As the darkest hour of the night was ushered in with a crackling sky and a hooting air, I wondered if the celebrations marked the beginning of a new year or the approach of an end the world seems to have been eagerly waiting for. Even as the anguish of an innocent life being brutally slaughtered had not been subdued, even as the fear of the darkest hours and the dark side of humanity had not faded, even as assurances by the police and the politicians had barely managed to reinstill confidence... The new year arrived unaffected and unperturbed making its presence almost ironic in a nation that is trying to cleanse itself of the past and is uncertain of the future. As hooligans came out on the street on their bikes and rode in herds at neck breaking speeds on the longs stretch of road below putting their lives and those of others at stake... I began to wonder were their lives so worthless that they didn't mind spending those on cheap bike tricks. There was no bravery in their acts. Just a strong desire to be 'noticed' and 'known' even if not 'admired' because to be known for good reasons has perhaps become one of the most difficult things in the country. It's always the bad that has managed to secure the place of headlines and breaking news. I always thought new year was about ringing in the new and the good and ringing out the old and the bad. However, that night as I saw innocent lives at stake and thanked God that my dear ones were safely nestled at home, I wondered if we had anything to look forward to or was the new year just a reminder that it's not over. At least not yet.