New years. New dreams. New resolutions. I find this hype just cliché. I remember Dec. 31 of 2015 well, as well as the day in 2014. Today is just another day. As will be the days all through the year.
I have never made any resolutions till now. I know as everyone does that they will never be kept.
I know too that life doesn't change overnight with the change in calendar.
Ask any happy person, they will say they were happy yesterday and they were happy today.
Ask any person who is hell-bent on being sad, they will see the change in calendar as just one more year to sigh.
'Caught in a strange land in a net with other butterflies, I'm a caterpillar yet undecided to remain a caterpillar and perish or turn into a beautiful butterfly and live a life full of joy.' Readers don't laugh. But I came up with this one night recently when I was travelling in a train. I tossed and turned, not being able to sleep, upset over unexplainable things and frustrated over events not in my control. Then it occurred to me that our life and its usefulness depends on our decisions -- whether to remain a crawling caterpillar whose existence otherwise is either ignored by all and sundry or who is cursed for just being there and thrown out with a stick, or to develop wings of life and metamorphose into a beautiful butterfly whom everybody adores for its beauty and colour, for its flitting liveliness, for its service to the flower's pollination... I thought that I should be a butterfly, of service to others, but then again I thought, anyway, who really cares?
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