IT’S that time of the year again when two momentous decisions have to be made. First, where will we spend th New Year’s Eve? Second, what New Year resolutions should we make?
The decision regarding resolutions is easy. List five lofty, insurmountable goals — buy a new car, walk daily, avoid swear words, get an increment/promotion and hate lies. Since New Year resolutions last for about 12 hours on an average, at least in my case, this process does not bother me inordinately.
However, deciding where to spend the New Year’s Eve is an uphill task.
Should we go to 5/7 star hotels and squander a hefty sum? It would be prestigious. And we can really brag about it for weeks when colleagues are around, “Wow, the party at the 7-star hotel was superb! I should know, because I was there!”
Or, should we attend the party hosted by Mrs Kumar in her elegant villa at Emirates Hills? Alluring too, for you can put on airs, “We are so-o-o weary of hotels. We are going to a party that is exclusive and private!”
Sure, one would like to shake a leg on the New Year’s Eve, but that would be indoors, since the Barsati Bar is now taboo!.
Or, should we just dine at an exotic Mongolian or Paraguayan restaurant? Then we can say, “Oh! We decided to go international.” To make the occasion even more global, we’ll invite the Kirpekars, Smiths, Wahabs and others.
Life was simpler, many years ago, when the company I worked for organised a New Year’s Eve party. I was not required to make any decision. The company paid for the venue, food, drinks and entertainment. Attending the company’s party also enabled me to reject all the extravagant options suggested by Patricia, my wife!
The New Year’s Eve decision was easy in Brazil. You landed at the Copacabana beach, where about 1.5 millions local “cariocas” and tourists would mingle, all dressed in white, and jive to the Samba beats to usher in the New Year. Similarly in Lima, you just walked the streets teeming with tiny Italian restaurants and pizzerias. Young Peruvians would welcome you warmly into their fold. If you did not get your steps right, they would hold your hand, and guide you through them.
In our first year in Dubai, Patricia and I did not get invited anywhere, since we did not know anybody. So I suggested, “We hardly get time these days to talk to each other. Why don’t we spend a quiet evening by ourselves, chatting with each other?” I assured her that I would hire an abra, and we could usher in the New Year, cruising by the creek, watching the lights on the banks. She loved the idea and suggested we dress up for the occasion.
Just before midnight, on 31st December, we made our way to the abra station in a taxi in our finery. Tucked under my arm was a music system, with Patricia’s favourite CDs of Loreena McKennit. But, our plans went awry. We learnt that abras do not ply after midnight! There was no way I could hire it exclusively for three hours. Patricia could have slaughtered me.
My cup of woes was overflowing. We could not get a cab back to the hotel. So, we spent the New Year’s Eve, walking through the empty Al Fahidi Street. I bought Patricia with a crown of flowers! She dismembered each flower, petal by petal, during those three hours of frozen silence. Finally, we got a cab around 2.30 am.
This year I am safe though. The company I work for is hosting a New Year’s party. I do not have to make any decision. I find that the cocktails and food always taste better, when the company is paying for them!
I hope you too are lucky as I am! Anyway, Happy 2008!