I witnessed from my window, the orange-golden hue of the evening sun, fast-resigning to dim and disappear behind a stand of thick grey clouds; an aftermath of a utopia, exiting to a perfect cold-crisp New Year’s Eve.

“One more day gone,” my mom said. My parents were at the fag-end of their visit to the U.A.E.

“2022 would be gone soon,” she sighed, to which, I gave a soft laugh.

I didn’t want to retrospect much about a year which had its own share of highs and lows. It was annoying, as I had played my part in it.

It was dark. I could see the ruby-red tail lights exiting Sharjah. A long chain of honking and hurrying. Some possibly heading to down-town Dubai to enjoy the night, some just to enjoy the grand fireworks at the fabulous Burj Khalifa, and some just to welcome 2023.

“What’s your plans for the New Year?” she asked.

I remembered that I had no plans, whatsoever.

“The last year-end, I had jotted down some resolutions which never really clicked. I had lost the diary, and then, lost the interest to continue with it.” It was a dry response that expressed nothing.

“Resolutions don’t work unless you are determined to achieve something. That means hard work,” she reminded.

Working hard wasn’t really difficult for me, unless I had plans to achieve something. Mom was right. I had a successful debut as an author in 2021. It intrigued me, and I immediately set sights for another book. It spruced my writing life and I was experiencing the Deja-vu of success prime. However few months later, the spark diminished, and with it went my dreams, gradually.

I sat on my bean-bag still looking out of the window. The honking was becoming louder, at least for 500 metres.

“Instead of spending your time on binge watching, you should focus on your writing,” she continued focussing on her sweater knitting job during winters.

I was stuck by a dilemma. The sense of passion was there, however, the fear of failure was obvious. But, you don’t win battles just by prejudice, especially the battles that decide your character. Life often teaches you a hard lesson and only the grit gains in glory abundance.

“Maybe you are right. I need to plan a resolution. Perhaps a couple of them which would help me write again. Last time I think I was overwhelmed by the expectations. This time I should be more careful.”

“That’s my boy. Chona Kuttan. You learn by experience,” she beamed.

Perhaps, I should start from where I had left. I was certainly overwhelmed, but, not disheartened. My article was published in a magazine this year, and was about to be featured in yet another newsletter. I knew I could do better, if I make an honest attempt.

“Perhaps, I could focus on short stories and articles.”

Lately, I was trying to up my writing skills by reading literary magazines. Although, my preferred kind of writing was limited to Genre fiction as opposed to literary fiction, I was not being pretentious. But it was an honest effort.

“Perhaps, I could focus on my book writing.”

“Decide, plan and execute boy. You will see the difference,” she said.

“Thanks mom. I won’t be idealistic that I fail even before I try. I would rather focus on the present and my strengths.”

“It can be overcome and I always knew you are a capable kind. Good luck with your resolutions and writing. Let it be some start to remember,” she said.

I took a pen and a diary again, when my mobile buzzed.

It was my friend asking me to join him for the New Year celebration.

I looked out of the window. The ruby-red tail lights were never ending, and I knew my car would be a part of it shortly.

“Down town Dubai, here I come,” I said.

I looked at the diary, smiled at it and kept it on my table. “Maybe later. Tomorrow, I promise.”

Mom who was looking at me continued with her knitting.

“You learn by experience,” she murmured.