One of my oldest memory of the New Year¡¯s Eve is my entire family snuggled inside one blanket with pizza boxes on our laps watching Honey, I Shrunk The Kids! on TV. Back then, we didn¡¯t have television channels overcrowded with award functions playing on loop and the concept of ¡®hitting the pub¡¯ hadn¡¯t yet occurred to my brother and I.?
My elder brother was the first one to break the tradition. When he turned 19, he asked for the permission to spend the night with his friends instead of us. I was only 16 then and furious that he would be so inconsiderate. Family time had to come first, always. Right?
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Cut to two years later, during my first year of college, my friends made it clear that I had to attend the party on 31st - it was going to be amazing! And it was! I had my first proper night out and on our way back home at 3 AM, I remember thinking how beautiful the streets of Delhi looked in the wee hours.
I have to do this more often, I decided, and then there was no looking back¡ until now.
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It¡¯s been seven years to that night and my New Year¡¯s Eve has always looked different - sometimes it¡¯s beer and pizza with friends, clubbing night, or at other times it¡¯s a weekend getaway. This year was supposed to be similar except none of my plans seemed to get materialised. I was sitting with my mother one evening and I asked her ¡°What are you guys doing on 31st?¡± with a wistful smile on her face she replied, ¡°This time we¡¯re thinking of ordering from that new pizza place that has opened up.¡±
A hard moment of realisation hit me then - For my parents, the New Year¡¯s Eve still meant snuggling under the blanket with pizza boxes.
Surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t a hard decision to make after that. The unprecedented guzzling of alcohol and a lousy countdown in drunken stupor seemed trivial compared to warm blankets and looking at my mother get sleepy even before the clock struck midnight. I speak for myself, and even most people my age, when I say that my independence in life came at the direct cost of the emotional dependency of my parents on me.
For me to make my way in this cold, harsh world I had to step out and explain to my parents through actions that now I am a ¡°grown up¡±. But does growing up mean growing apart?
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This year, for me, growing up means being present. It means catching up on all the other New Year Eve¡¯s I¡¯ve missed out on.
It means figuring out if my parents are still eating the same pizza flavours all these years. It means laughing at their old school humour and nostalgia, because honestly¡ I¡¯ve missed it.?
Geographical distance would still keep my elder brother missing from the picture but we¡¯ll video call him in. Other than that, my plans for NYE are set - olive & cheese pizza, Honey, I Shrunk The Kids! after ages and the entire family under one blanket, once again.