Isn’t it marvelous to wake up on this chilly morning and realise that it’s the first day of 2016? Don’t you feel wonderful? Aren’t you brimming with new energy? I realise that if you were at a good party last night, this is probably a rhetorical question. (I’d recommend some Panadol Extra and a litre of water in a toilet adjacent to the room). Hangovers aside, suddenly there is a bright and shiny clean slate ahead of you, filled with unknown possibilities and endless wonders. I’m a huge fan of new beginnings - like when the first of the month falls on a Monday - and New Year’s Day is the best of them all. It’s like an automatic reset button on life after a dewy rain shower, much like the first day of a new school year, and one on which I feel unencumbered by the tendrils of my past.
I know I’m not the only one who feels like this, as those of you who have promised to quit smoking, join a gym, read more, and fight less can attest. We all have resolutions come January 1 (don’t roll your eyes, even not having resolutions is a resolution, meta-style). I know, for instance, that the gyms will suddenly be crawling with people for the next three weeks until the novelty wears off. A friend of mine once had an idea to open a gym called “Resolutions” that would be stocked with weights only for January and then turn into a bakery or bar for the next eleven months. Some of us will keep diaries again, give up the rooh afza once and for all, run everyday, be nicer, and decide to commit to our significant others or even end toxic relationships. Two people I know left their spouses on the last New Year’s Eve, but I caution you: that’s not the kind of resolution you can usually renege on, come February (talk about an awkward Valentine’s Day). I say all this not to scare you, but rather to encourage you to make some resolutions for yourself, because even the act of setting goals forces you to confront and de-clutter the amorphous desires of your own head. I find the exercise can be as rewarding as it is revealing.
Nawaz Sharif's pink turban - for the author, a sign of new beginnings
Looking back on my own 2015 (I’d like to know about yours but let’s face it, when has this ever been a two-way conversation?), I think I am semi-proud of my accomplishments, which is both boastful and disturbing. It started off in a bit of a funk, a lingering depression after the Peshawar massacre that I think affected us all in ways that are difficult to articulate. Then I danced with Jaundice for three months. Any serious sickness will make you reconsider all the things in your life that you have been filing away without thought into the dusty, darkened recesses of your mind. Post-sickness, I felt it was time for a change. I knew I wanted to quit smoking, so I did (and continue to every day). I knew I wanted to read more non-fiction, so I started. I wanted to move away from Lahore for a while, so I moved. I knew I wanted to overhaul my professional life, so I started to. Punchy sentences like that make it seem easy, like a quickened makeover montage of a movie set to 80s music with me going through my life with a spiral note pad putting tick-marks on a list of “Life Goals”. Life is never a montage. It’s not easy. I assure you, chance and self-actualisation feel a lot like cleaning a toilet: unpleasant until you see a gleaming surface.
I believe the secret is to do something small about your goals every day. Large gestures rarely work out in real life, but after a series of small steps you may find you’ve gone further than you could have with one giant leap, and it didn’t hurt the day after either. All in all, there isn’t a part of my life, personal or professional, that hasn’t been completely overhauled in 2015. My astrologers say this is because Saturn in is my sign for the next three years but I think it mainly has to do with being 31 and thinking “So really? No one has the answers? Why didn’t they tell us that in school?” This latest experience of change is kind of like when I lost 100 lbs several years ago: once the dust had settled, I found it difficult to recognise myself and therefore easier to streamline.
But half the fun of something is in its planning, so be warned that achieving your goals can leave you feeling very… underwhelmed. It follows then that getting used to the New You can be daunting. I’m happy I quit smoking, but I also bemoan the ten pounds that have latched onto my midsection like white on rice, and they are not going anywhere (I’ve launched a campaign “Lipo 2016”). The move to New York has been fun of course, but at times also disorienting and, as with any major life event, I find myself bursting into spontaneous tears at the mere mention of Adele or the words “Hello, it’s me”. Adele-inspired crying can only stop when I eat a chocolate croissant or have dessert wine, which is why I am also launching “No to Sugar 2016”.
Despite all this, I feel fulfilled and positive and I hope you do too. We are in a better position than we were last year and I think all of that is embodied in the glorious pink turban Nawaz Sharif wore on his granddaughter’s wedding (can we please make that a national headdress?). The optimist in me is convinced that 2016 will be amazing and life-affirming. My resolution is to believe this well unto February at least by repeating the mantra “fake it till you make it”. And so I wish you again, through what I am sure appears to be a semi-medicated sense of peace: A Happy New Year to a happy new you!
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