I know that this is not going to be just another year starting from somewhere and ending up in the same old twenty-something crisis. I know I have a fresh list of exams to get through and a countless number of pages to sub edit. I know I have a house to build and a book to write.
I know it’s time to get my thoughts together to sit and do some serious writing. I know I should be on the look out for inspiration that comes to me in most unusual packages. I know I should stop reading teenage love stories and move onto more sophisticated books. I know instead of yearning for a book-light, I should get treated for the dark circles around my eyes.
I know I should find more time to spend with family and interesting places to go loafing with them. I know I should help out more with Malli’s homework and contribute to Nangi’s pocket money.
I know I should eat more vegetables and less chocolate. I know I must learn new recipes and modify the old ones. I know I have to perfect the art of draping a sari in five minutes before I end up in a place where wearing sari will be a must.
I know I should be more disciplined when it comes to keeping my table tidy and my mind clutter-free. I know I have to get myself organized without waiting for someone to bring me an organizer.
I know this is going to be a hard year, with very less visible challenges and perhaps quite a few invisible ones. No matter in what condition, I know I am going to survive and help others survive. I know I will fight for the things I deserve and gift what I already have to those who are more deserved.
I know I will continue to be the same anger-absorber, the listener and the annoyer to my friends who are around me. I know I will keep missing my childhood friends, my school friends and the friends I made at my former workplaces.
I know I will grow fat with the amount of junk food I eat and look old with the silver hair that appears one by one. I know I will try to be more politically-literate and pragmatic enough to call myself a true journalist.
But, despite everything, I know, in this year or for the coming hundred years, I am not going to grow up.
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