As the year ending ceremonies begin with flowing champagne and throbbing music, and end with the birth of countless new hopes, every little heart feels the in-escapable sadness arising out of that fleeting last moment, the emotion lasting perhaps for a split-second. But then in the next blink of an eye, the glitter of shining new promises take over. Tomorrow will be a beautiful new day, and even if it is not, perhaps I will be stronger to still hold onto you, wonderful life. Like every other celebration involving a public holiday, people party, and that too within huge groups. Countless new resolutions are made. Some old ones are renewed, yet again. As if resolutions made this night are consecrated by the collective goodness of the nocturnal participants. People hold hands, kiss and cry with complete strangers, share (coincidentally) similar sounding stories, as they look back at the year just passed. All this, I am sure is familiar madness to you. At the strike of 12:00, I dec
Articles, Poetry and Short Stories by Proma Ray.