New Year Resolutions – A Futile Pursuit

Sunday Musings :  As 2023 headed for burial, “Let us make our resolutions.” I suggested.

“What is the use?” the wife responded, “We had made some last year but….?”

“Well, they lasted three whole weeks. That is nearly 6% success rate.”

“What about the remaining 50 weeks?” she asked.

“49, not 50.”

“Well, whatever”, she said dismissively.

I recall at the time we got engaged, her father had sounded me on her being ‘not too good’ in maths. As time passed, I discovered the old man’s words were a gross under-statement.

“What about repeating our last year’s resolution …. of avoiding arguments?” I suggested.

“It won’t work, because you never listen.”

“How can I listen when I don’t hear?”

“What about the hearing gadget for which you had paid a high six-figure sum to a private vendor?”

“Well, it doesn’t work”, I said, somewhat timorously.

“Why don’t you complain?”

“I have done that plenty” I said meekly.

{Literally every month I have been visiting the supplier. Each time the audiologist tells me the appliance was fine but my hearing had declined further since the previous visit.” When I questioned how my hearing could decline so fast, she switched to a honeyed sales talk. “Sir, your auditory system is not ordinary. It is very delicate and sensitive. Your presbycusis is actually rare and unique.”
No respectable man likes to admit ignorance, particularly of terms pertaining to his own infirmity.  I would nod understandingly and slink away}.

“What about the free hearing aid the Army has given you?”  She questioned.

My loyalty to the alma mater suddenly took over. Neither wanting to tell a lie nor hide the truth of it being purchased from the lowest bidder, I said, “Well actually, the items supplied by military are designed to work only during parade hours.”

Then, not giving her time, I quickly side-tracked.

“You remember how we enjoyed the free army rations from 1983 onwards?”

“Yes. But I also remember how some ladies used to complain about their quality when you were Corps commander in Mathura.”

{I do recall that. To bolster confidence, I had once invited all ladies of the station and asked the Brigadier in charge of supplies, to deliver a talk. Being a high-end professional, he gave a thorough briefing about the ration regulations and the system of distribution. He started with the basic item – onion. After explaining its prescribed colour, shape, taste etc, he came to its size, smallness of which was a cause of perpetual grumble. Using a mesh and a sack of onions brought from the supply depot, he demonstrated how all pieces that fell through the perforation, were rejected.  To a question who had designed the mesh, he simply said the same was ‘as per regulations’. QED.
Next came sugar. Having generally described its colour, moisture content, granule size etc., he talked of its laid-down qualitative requirements. When he read the very first one, ‘Sugar should be sweet’, there was an audible giggle}.

Reverting to the subject of resolutions, I decided to use a guff, so as to retain ample elbow room.

“I am going to enlarge my comfort zone in 2024”, I said, sounding decisive.

“You mean you will take a bigger quilt?” she obviously had in mind my usual grouse of not being able to make both ends meet.

“No” I replied, “I was speaking metaphorically to convey that I would make my own hours and do what I like best”.

“But isn’t that what you have been doing all your retired years?”

I was still groping for an appropriate response when she announced her resolve. “I will sit out in the lawn daily at sunrise to get some vitamin D” she declared yogaically.

“But our house faces north-west and the sun shows in our front lawn only after 11 am?”

“You made a huge mistake when you built this house. But you never listen.”

I envied Adam who did not have to construct a dwelling. But then, size and design of Eve’s fig leaf perhaps could have generated an animated argument. Domesticity is always a minefield.

As the clock struck midnight, the only change from 2023 to 2024 was that of just one digit.

Life gets spiced up and moves delightfully on the sturdy wheel of discordance.

Cheerio!

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(Representative  photos credit-iStock & NDTV)