The year gone, questions remain: India in 2025

With the New Year’s arrival, a strange buzz begins in our society. The calendar changes, mobile phones are flooded with greetings, TV channels start airing “New Year Special” programs, and we all try to reassure each other that “everything will be fine this year.” But, as every year, the question remains: is anything truly new, or are we simply changing the date and continuing in the same old ways?

In a country like India, New Year’s Day shouldn’t be just a celebration, but an occasion for introspection. Because New Year’s Day isn’t the same for everyone. For some, it’s a time of holidays, parties, and resolutions, while for others, it’s the same old routine—four-a-morning naps, unfulfilled desires, and a constant stream of responsibilities. For mothers, working women, daily wage laborers, farmers, teachers, nurses, drivers—New Year’s Day often becomes just another date on the calendar.

On New Year’s Eve, as we celebrate with lights, fireworks, and music, a mother goes to bed early, worrying about the next day’s lunch. A laborer tosses and turns, wondering if he’ll find work the next morning. A farmer looks to the sky, calculating whether this year will bring rain or debt. We often say, “New Year, new beginning.” But is this new beginning possible for everyone?

As long as societal structures remain the same, mindsets the same, and inequalities persist, the New Year remains merely an emotional illusion. Real change comes when, amidst the celebratory noise, we begin to listen to the voices that are often suppressed. The New Year gains true meaning only when we acknowledge that not everyone’s life is the same, and that equal opportunities are impossible without equal vision.

Most New Year’s wishes are addressed to women. They are expected to smile in every situation, manage everything, and never complain. But rarely does anyone ask them if they are tired or if they need a break. A working woman’s New Year often begins with old struggles. She is expected to manage the home, her job, her emotional balance, and, amidst all this, forget herself.

Society glorifies her tolerance as her strength, but avoids seeing the fatigue hidden behind that tolerance. If this New Year is to be truly new, then first and foremost, we must recognize women not as embodiments of sacrifice but as equal citizens. We must give them the right to feel tired, speak out, disagree, and even ask for time for themselves.

The New Year isn’t just about personal resolutions; it’s also a time for collective responsibility. We often make resolutions for ourselves—to work harder, earn more, live better lives. But we rarely make resolutions for society. Can we decide to treat household chores as a “responsibility,” not “help”? Can we think about teaching children compassion, not just competition? Will we accept that not everyone’s trajectory is the same?

The family is society’s first school. If there’s no equality at home, how can there be equality in society? If a woman’s fatigue is accepted as normal at home, then talk of her rights outside will ring hollow. If there’s one true resolution we should make this New Year, it’s to start change from our own homes.

For the younger generation, the New Year symbolizes dreams and hopes. New goals, new plans, and new flights. But today’s youth are also surrounded by many pressures—competition, unemployment, social comparison, and the mental burden of the digital world. Every New Year, they are told to do something big, to prove something. But rarely does anyone say that it’s okay to stop if they get tired, that their life doesn’t end if they fail.

May this New Year reassure young people that their worth isn’t solely measured by their achievements. Mental health, self-esteem, and balance are just as important as success. Society must recognize that every young person is not a machine, but a sensitive human being.

On New Year’s Day, governments, institutions, and the media announce new development plans. Roads, buildings, statistics, and targets—everything is touted in the name of development. But development cannot simply mean material progress. True development occurs when even the last person in society feels that they are not alone, that their suffering matters.

Unless empathy becomes part of the language of development, the new year will simply be a list of new plans. We need to consider whether, in the pursuit of development, we are forgetting our human nature. Is there something beyond profit and gain that needs to be preserved?

The greatest meaning of the New Year is introspection. The courage to question ourselves about where we went wrong, what injustices we witnessed, and what we remained silent about. This introspection must be both personal and societal. Because until we recognize our role, it is futile to expect any change.

It’s our responsibility to decide what the New Year will be like. If this year is limited to just good wishes, it will be like any other year. But if it can make us a little more humane, a little more responsible, and a little more just, that will be its greatest achievement.

The New Year doesn’t draw a magical line that transforms everything. Change comes from within—from our thoughts, our behavior, and our small decisions. If this New Year can allow us to see, understand, and be sensitive to the suffering of others, that will be its true celebration.

Because the New Year is new only when

When the vision of society is new.