I often joke with my family that we get to “reset" our lives three times a year. Like most people, we begin with the Gregorian calendar’s New Year, complete with reflection posts, resolutions, and the silent pressure to wake up improved. Being Telugu means we also celebrate Ugadi, which is our cultural New Year rooted in ritual and symbolism. And now, having married into a Gujarati family, Diwali marks yet another New Year, filled with light, prosperity, and the promise of new beginnings.

Three New Years. Three chances to start over.

It’s strange how these entirely arbitrary dates that have been collectively agreed upon and socially reinforced carry such weight. We’re expected to be more disciplined, mindful, and aligned with some ideal version of ourselves soon after the clock strikes midnight. Why can’t change just quietly begin on an ordinary Tuesday?

Ever since COVID-19, these dates stopped feeling like opportunities to reset or reinvent myself. Instead, they became reminders of what I actually get joy from and a reason to return to that. The shared meals with people I love, a long seaside Sunday walk with my dogs, building things (sometimes my business, sometimes Lego), conversations that don’t necessarily lead to anything but fill your heart, and anything that feels like home to me.

Each New Year has a unique emotional thread. The Gregorian New Year arrives after a glamorous night of celebration, with the need to optimise, fix,........

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