What's the Zzzz on New Year?

I have nothing planned - in the conventional sense that is; and yes, I have turned down a handful of offers to get the last chance to be sociable in 2015.

I still remember the night of 31 December, 1999. Not only was it New Year's Eve, it was also New Century's Eve and New Millennium's Eve. Extra special. I, along with a sundry billions, had been fortunate enough to witness the turn of the century and the turn of the millennium. Talk about timing.
On that night, I returned home from work, switched on the telly and started watching a movie called Kaho Na. Pyaar Hain (it was marking its "debut" on the small screen that special night). While watching Hrithik Roshan cavort around with Amisha Patel, I chomped on homemade 'chicken chowmein' with lots of chilli sauce (that our cook had made specially for 'New Yaar'). At midnight, my parents (who were watching something else on the telly in the living room) walked into my room to wish me happy 3-in-1, gave me a hug and proceeded to call it a night. I continued watching Hrithik and Amisha, riveted, till about 1.30am - which is when the movie ended.
Later, when I recounted my night in, most of my friends looked at me as though I had totally lost it. How could I pass up this oppor-tunity: ushering in new year/new century/new millennium? I had no answer really. but mostly because the question had no relevance for me.
As 2015 drew to an end, I found myself wondering if I should "plan" anything momentous. Unsurprisingly, I decided against it. My agenda was to somehow beat traffic (and the crowds) and make it home before the end-of-the-year madness started in right earnest. So yes, there would be people blowing strange-sounding whistles (that they somehow reserve for the nightof 31 December), children shrieking on the road in front of my building when they see fireworks erupt and general white noise, but I'd just have to turn up the volume on my television set proportionately.
I undertook a quick survey at the office to gauge the celebratory barometer. Everyone has something planned. One of my colleagues has booked a table at The Beach; he and his wife will raise long-stemmed glasses and toast 2016 at midnight, while watching the skies open up to dazzling lights. Another is undertaking a desert safari. "Desert safari? Why now?" I asked. "It's New Year's Eve, we have to do something special," he said solemnly. Many others are going to house parties; some are hosting house parties; a few are going to a nightclub to dance the end of the year away.
I have nothing planned - in the conventional sense that is; and yes, I have turned down a handful of offers to get the last chance to be sociable in 2015 (house parties, "join us at the nightclub", "let's have dinner somewhere", etc).
Am I anti-social? I don't think so. Do I consider myself twice removed from the madding crowds - at least, mentally? Again, I don't think so. Am I a far-gone cynic, who's given up on life's little (and big) extras? Yet again, I don't think so. My contention is: you don't need a 'special time' to celebrate life. For instance, why don't we celebrate a month-end? Going by the ritualistic "annual" argument (New Year's comes only once a year and all of that), a month comes once a year, and it will be one full year before the next suchlike month comes along. Really, this New Year logic baffles me. I'd like to celebrate the end of the day with equal gusto if it all comes down to celebrating life (what about an hour? For all I know, an hour like the one whose motions I am going through right now may not ever come my way again).
Having said that, I realise do have an unconventional New Year's Eve plan - like I have a plan for every evening. It will roughly be along the following lines: Take the Metro back home and try not to roll my eyes and mutter "Seriously?" when I see everyone festooned all around me in the compartment. Pick up groceries from the supermarket and cook something; I've not had a chance to cook for almost a month now, time to make amends with my kitchen. And then, watch a couple of DVDs that I've already set aside (one will be a re-run). By the time the movie quarter-marathon is over, I hope there will be silence outside. And then, in the new year, I shall dive into bed.
Happy New Year. - sushmita@khaleejtimes.com