New Year resolution
Why worry about the year that?s past.india Updated: Dec 29, 2003 16:43 IST
Now that Christmas is over, it can safely be revealed that Santa Claus is one of the brethren. His real name is Sant Karve, and he lives in Wembley. Look at the evidence: Sant K is portly from his over-consumption of samosas, just one of which, according to a recent health warning, is like swallowing a slab of butter.
He’s grey-haired from worry over Munni and Pappu’s university fees five years hence. No-one ever saw Santa go down a chimney because he didn’t; Sant Karve hates being covered in soot and looking any darker than cruel Nature intended. If you think Santa’s ‘Ho Ho Ho’ is a worn Christmas cliché, it is, in fact, Sant Karve saying ‘Yes’ three times over in Marathi. Parsimonious Sant Karve opts for free transport; hence the reindeer sleigh. Some desis believe there is a conspiracy afoot to appropriate Christmas (and curry) as British.
For some (like the Queen), this past year was an annus horribilis in a dog’s world, although technically it’s a worm’s world, for 2003 was the Year of the Worm when computer viruses and worms slammed the infrastructure and the Internet. Virus and worm families Slammer, MSBlaster and Sobig bypassed the cinema near you and came into your home, spreading from machine to machine and insidiously mass-mailing. Slammer delayed more airline flights than drunken pilots, while MSBlaster attacked Windows NT, Windows 2000 and Windows XP machines. Sobig-F was named the fastest spreading virus in history, causing billions in damages and crippling thousands of email boxes. What does all this mean? That no Apple is free of the worm. Sobig Brother Worm might be watching you in 2004 for your credit card and bank information.
Should I continue, is a review of 2003, the year that was, really necessary? And do we really want to watch TV’s 100 Greatest Moments, 100 Greatest Kisses, Misses, Wishes, Dishes? Wife Swap, Candid Camera Cop, Idle Pop? The celeb at the top? Do we really care whether Liz Hurley tied or untied the (dress) knot in 2003?
This time of year, there are other pressing issues: Depression, depression and depression. There’s the weight to shed before you head back to no, not bed, but work. Who would have thought that you would meet the fate of the stuffed turkey you ate? That the trifle jelly would be your belly? The mince pies settle in your thighs? It’s time to be wise (top tip: Havabaan Harde and Pudin Hara).
Then there are the till bills that make you ill and reach for a pill (Auntyji’s too tight hand-knitted sweater isn’t helping the breathing, either). Christmas came and went and you thought what you spent wouldn’t make a dent. It was the season to be jolly and for folly, and now it’s Lent.
The worst part is realising we are going to be older and no wiser next year. Henry Reed put it this way in 1946:
As we get older we do not get any younger.
Seasons return, and today I am fifty-five,
And this time last year I was fifty-four,
And this time next year I shall be sixty-two.
There’s only one way of beating thinking about being old in the end of year cold. Kal Ho Na Ho, make a resolution for the New Year without fear or a tear:
2003 went by so fast
It didn’t last,
Why worry about the year that’s past?