The Resolution!

The office cafeteria was a graveyard of crumpled napkins and smears of chocolate frosting—the aftermath of the mandatory New Year’s cake-cutting ritual. Over tea and coffee that were getting colder by the minute, the conversation had inevitably turned into a competitive sport: the listing of New Year’s resolutions. “I want to travel to a different destination each month”, “This is the year of me working on my own start-up”, “I will get my music video out”!

Rati sat back, cradling her mug, watching the exchange with a quiet, persistent smile. She was a spectator to the noise rather than a part of it.

"Rati, you’re being suspiciously quiet," one colleague noted, pointing a stir-stick at her. "What’s on the grand agenda for the year? Or are your aspirations too high-profile to share with us?"

"She’s been sitting there like a sphinx while we’ve poured our hearts out," another added with a laugh. "Come on, spill."

Rati shifted, her shyness momentarily visible. "I only have one," she said softly. "To be happy."

There was a beat of silence, then a burst of skepticism. "That’s it? That’s a bit generic, isn't it? It’s like saying your resolution is to breathe."

"It is and it isn’t," Rati replied, finding her footing. "It’s been my resolution since last year, and I suspect it will be the only one I keep for the rest of my life."

"But how is that a resolution? Where’s the plan? The gym membership? The 'New Year, New Me' hustle?"

Rati took a deep breath, her gaze steadying. "Look, this might sound a bit philosophical—maybe even like a lecture—but if you’ll just hear me out..."

"Oh boy, here goes the Professor!" someone called out. The table erupted in good-natured groans and laughter. "The nerd is coming out to play!"

"Quiet, you lot," a friend interjected, leaning in. "I’m actually curious. Let her speak."

"I can't believe we're getting a sermon on January first," another whispered loudly.

“Let’s hear her out first! We could get to diss and dissect her afterwards!”

"Hem, hem!"

"Fine, fine! I’m all ears now. Maybe it’ll cure the hangover."

"Or give us a fresh one!"

The table dissolved into another round of chaos—people talking over one another, lighthearted ribbing, and the genuine, messy sound of friends enjoying a moment of shared irreverence.

Rati didn’t cut them off. She simply watched the laughter ripple across the table, the way her friends leaned into each other, and the bright energy of the room. When the noise finally dipped into a small lull of expectation, she didn’t deliver a speech.

She simply gestured to their smiling faces.  "This," Rati said, her smile widening. "This is what I meant. My resolution."