First and foremost, I hope more people pass on this year, having lived fully realised lives, of old age, by natural causes, celebrated by family and friends, than those who are taken away suddenly in their prime, leaving their loved ones in shock and grief. I wish more couples break up, divorce, and move on, to begin new journeys instead of staying in mutually destructive relationships. I hope more children grow up having a single parent who is responsible, loving and capable of providing them a stable, happy home than two parents who are permanently at each other’s throats. I hope there are more seniors living on their own, or in assisted-living facilities, fraternising with peers, having active, independent, fun lives than those who remain with children who don’t want them.
I hope there are fewer books on bookshelves, less music to listen to, less art in galleries and fewer movies in theatres this year because quality wins over quantity.
I wish that there are more negatives in this world, starting with Covid-19 test results. Also, the negative that has come to describe those who take it upon themselves to talk about all that is wrong around us. For how else can these wrongs be righted? Let’s go with that rather than the toxic positivity that insists that there are no problems at all in this world, and nothing needs to be changed except one’s attitude.
I wish there is far less grand celebration this year, less cake and champagne, less bell ringing and thali clanging, fewer serial lights and less drone-camera videos, and more intimacy with friends and family, marking each other’s special days and good fortune — one to one — with a kind deed or comforting word instead of showy, meaningless, public gestures.
This year, I hope children don’t do as well in school as their parents and teachers would like them to, and instead get to paint, play, climb trees, bond with animals, be bitten by bugs, express themselves, fight and make up with each other, and find their passion. I wish that children don’t obey parents, teachers and all elders blindly and question them because they have learnt to think for themselves, and figured out that all parents, teachers and elders can’t be right all the time.
In 2022, I hope to see more grown-ups behaving like children by being less cynical, rediscovering their lost innocence and sense of wonder, their playfulness and, above all, the ability to share and trust one another.
I hope people have more arguments this year, and that differences of opinion and divergent points of view are dealt with through dialogue, debate, discussion, and agreeing to disagree, instead of profanities, fists and clubs.
I hope we have more intolerance this year: intolerance of hate, violence and inequality. Intolerance of abuse, bullying, misogyny, patriarchy, racism and bigotry. And, above all, intolerance of intolerance.
I hope fewer names make it to the Forbes List this year, and more children get eggs and milk for their midday meals. I wish there is less development this year and more forest. I wish there are fewer corridors for human-made things, and more corridors for elephants. I wish we start listening to godmen less, and start listening to our hearts more. I wish we start believing in gods less, and start believing in our fellow human a little more.
You get my drift.
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is a satirist. He has written four books and edited an anthology.
