I Hate New Year's Eve

Ranting over the pursuit of the 'perfect celebration' as a 'perfect family'

A good friend today shared a heartfelt Instagram post by the Bollywood actor Shefali Shah¹, where she candidly expressed her frustration about trying to align her family’s wishes for the perfect NYE celebration. Despite her best efforts, her kids and husband ultimately decided they’d rather stay home and ‘chill together.’ So, Shefali did the unthinkable - she spent NYE all by herself, doing exactly what she wanted. The post showed her on a boat, surrounded by mountains, blissfully solo. Who knew that for a woman, even in the glitzy world of Bollywood, making plans for herself and ‘leaving’ her family behind could be such a radical act?

Every year, I find myself in a similar predicament to Shefali Shah’s family. Even for a family of four, it’s nearly impossible to agree on a plan that works for everyone. My husband, while not a social butterfly, loves the outdoors and enjoys ticking off popular experiences. My son, on the other hand, prefers the cozy comfort of home and couldn’t be bothered with the chaos of NYE traffic or large gatherings. He’d rather snuggle under a blanket, order food, and watch a movie with the family. My daughter, like her father, loves the outdoors but struggles with decision-making, leaving me to finalize plans for her. As for me, I’ve always loved fireworks by the beach. However, over the years, I’ve learned that attending these events in Abu Dhabi means dealing with massive crowds, packed venues by 4 PM, and traffic that gets you home at 4 AM.

And then, there’s my personal nemesis at such events: public toilets. No matter how clean they try to keep them, the sheer volume of people makes it an ordeal for any management. Queueing up with kids in tow is even worse. My husband thinks I’m paranoid, but just the thought of it gags me.

While I think what Shefali did was absolutely liberating, I also think her family shouldn’t feel shamed into not wanting to ‘do’ anything ‘together’. Women normally take it upon themselves to orchestrate everyone’s plans and happiness, often at the expense of their own, simply because we’re conditioned to be the karta-dharta of the entire janata. We take on the mind-numbing pressure to pitch the ‘perfect’ plan - one that checks everyone’s boxes and is Instagram-worthy to the core.

Are we at the right venue? Have we packed enough snacks and blankets? Will everyone look happy in the pictures? Will the photos reflect a harmonious marriage and a happy family?

This year, I tried to break free from some of these pressures.

Step one was letting my 17yo son off the hook. He despises crowds and traffic, and honestly, I didn’t see the point in dragging him to something he wouldn’t enjoy. He’s old enough to decide for himself, and we shouldn’t feel guilty about letting him stay home.

Step two was tackling the indecisive duo - my husband and daughter. They start with “I’m okay with anything, even staying home,” but by 5 PM on NYE, they’re asking, “So, any plans?” By 7 PM, I reluctantly cave in and take charge. This time, I bravely vetoed the popular venue with its record-breaking fireworks of 53 minutes. The well organized ones were already there, setting up their BBQ station for grilling kebabs.

At 8 PM, I showered and packed the basics: cushions, blankies, a beach mat, chips, bottled water, some chikki from Lonavala, Kolkatta mukhwas from Mumbai, wet wipes, and light-up feather headbands for a festive touch (I was so proud of myself for remembering the last bit!)

Before heading out at 8:30 PM, my 12 yo daughter, Aleena, suddenly realizes she’ll have to be out for a few hours until midnight. She starts having second thoughts. Bear in mind, my husband and I are already wearing our shoes, bags in hand, ready to step out. This is the moment my teen son decides to take on the mantle of guilt, feeling responsible for setting a ‘bad’ example for his younger sibling, and takes it upon himself to ‘encourage’ her to leave.

“This was your idea. They’re leaving because you wanted to go!” he reminds her.

“I know, but I didn’t realize we’d leave so early! Why can’t I stay back with you?” Aleena shoots back with tear-filled eyes. She wants to go but not so early so she thinks not going would be better but she doesn’t want to upset her father who would like for her to come. And now she’s feeling bad because she seems to have upset her brother too.

The feminist in me feels the urgent need to protect my precious people-pleasing female offspring. “Guys, can we please let Aleena decide for herself? Aleena, you have a choice - you can stay back if you want. I’ll go with your father, and we’ll have fun,” I say, acting nonchalant.

Internally, however, I’m cursing the situation. Frankly speaking, the entire plan was because of her. If only she’d sided with me and her brother earlier, we could’ve pressured her father into agreeing to stay home. We’d all be snug under a blanket watching a movie by now, although, I’d probably still feel FOMO the next day, seeing everyone else’s fabulous NYE pictures which would then make me feel guilty for not executing the perfect evening for my family.

I remind myself to stay calm. I’d promised myself I’d enjoy the night, no matter what. Taking a deep breath, I watch as Aleena decides to come with us after all - not without me admonishing my son for pressuring her in the first place.

Before leaving, I say a quick prayer for minimal traffic and clean public toilets - or, better still, no need for one at all! With the GPS as our decision maker, we agreed on a local beach that wasn’t a popular destination - exactly what Aleena had wanted in the first place. We found parking nearby, settled into a perfect spot close to the water and restaurants, and waited. The night seemed promising again.

About 20 minutes before midnight, I noticed a pair of white birds taking flight. My heart sank, thinking about how greedily we humans have hogged this Earth, while mere miles away, families struggle to survive.

In between waiting and clicking selfies, my husband and I called our son twice - just to check if he was doing ‘fine’ - especially as our quick ‘bye’ that night was a little curt. I went through our pictures and wondered if people would judge us if they didn’t spot my son in the NYE family pictures.

Does a family have to be ‘together’ in every frame on every occasion to tell the world we love each other?

I brought 4 feather headbands with me, but we ended up with just one after giving away 3 to kids on the beach. One of them was a little girl, around 4 or 5, who was building a sandcastle when Aleena accidentally trampled on it in the dark. The smile on her face and Aleena's when Aleena gave her the glowing headband as an apology, was priceless!

The fireworks, while pretty, lasted about five minutes. Amidst crying toddlers, elderly folks in chairs, and teenagers spraying foam at each other, we were back in our car within 15 minutes and home in under 45 mins - despite the traffic. To me, it was a perfect evening. Oh! And we didn’t need a toilet after all!

Before calling it a night, I kissed the kids goodnight and climbed into bed. My husband, meanwhile, scrolled through social media, marveling at videos of the record-breaking fireworks. He remarked, “Agli dafah humein bhi wahan jaana chahiye!”

The next morning, I showed him messages from people still stuck in traffic at 4 AM.

“Bahot bore ho yaar tum…”

I grinned at receiving the compliment while encouraging him to pick a friend and decide for himself how to spend the next year’s NYE.

As for me? I’ll be sipping hot chocolate with marshmallows, watching a feel-good December movie, wrapped in my comforter with my cats for company.

Or would I?…..

1. By the way, if you like to read Zeenat Aman on IG, you should follow Shefali Shah. She’s got book recommendations and a blog running - so I dared to invite her to post on Substack too :)