By Paree Punnj
I watch the fireworks from my window,
Tightly clutching my brown diary,
All of its 365 pages filled with
The usual banter of my otherwise silent heart,
A couple of ink spills, tear smudges
And scribbles of anxiety.
I reluctantly set this diary down,
Contrarily feeling a slight relief of surviving last year,
I pick another brown diary of 366 pages,
Each being a crisp and untouched white leaf.
I almost didn't want to taint them
With the cloudy disposition of my little heart.
Last year, this time, I was standing
Next to someone who didn't bother
To hold my hand while watching
The dance of the lights in the sky.
This year, I write my first resolution,
"The fireworks shine brighter without
Someone blocking the view.
Resolution 1 - appreciate and embrace
the beauty of being alone."
My first day back at work,
I realised that a new year
Does not mean a new boss.
The camera that was collecting dust
In the corner of my messy wardrobe
Smiled, as I write my second resolution,
"The only thing that feed your soul is your dreams.
Resolution 2 - make room for the things
That lighten up your spirit from within."
When I watched this world
Try to justify violence, competing about
Who is better at playing the blame game,
While those who suffer are often more educated.
I remembered all those times I stayed quiet.
I picked my diary and scrawled with a fury
"NOTHING GOOD HAVE EVER COME FROM YOUR SILENCE.
Resolution 3 - Stand up for what you believe,
Speak louder and louder till they hear you."
And just like that, I already know
That this new brown diary, like this year,
Will be my guiding star on a journey of
finding myself and also, who I want to be.
Three hundred and sixty six chances
Of pure and unadulterated self evolution.