A break from work-hard, party-hard life

MUMBAI: Radhika first thought of quitting her high-pressure media planning job in September. The 28-year-old Warden Road resident was keenly aware of her pronounced work-life imbalance. In her three married years, Radhika had barely managed to sneak in personal time. Then, the terror attacks happened, and her decision was made. "The attacks were a trigger to get my priorities right.I want to start a family. I will take up a less stressful job after this break," says Radhika, who quit earlier this month, and is now learning the fine art of relaxing and letting go.
The ominous combination of terror-induced paranoia and recession has made urbanites such as Radhika sit up and wonder whether contentment means endless partying, and happiness a bigger car. Earlier, Radhika and Tejas, her 31-year-old husband, would spend their precious weekends watching movies, dining out or partying with friends. Now, they prefer to stay at home. "I did watch `Rab ne...' last week because I love Shah Rukh. But that's it. Going out sounds so frivolous now," she says. They even turned down a Pune friend's New Year invite. Hotels and clubs toning down or calling off their Christmas and New Year bashes is not the reason for the couple's volte-face. Radhika would have stayed home anyway. "Last year, we struggled to get passes to an event," she says with a quiet smile.
Most Mumbaikars TOI spoke to insist they would rather bond with people over lunch-at home. The good old Indian way. Evidently, cheap money is gone and with it, unbridled consumerism. People could also do with some peace.
Agreed, there are those who have returned to their old routine. Meghana Bhatt, a 29-year-old creative group head of a digital advertising agency, says her habits haven't changed. "Only I am a bit more alert now." But she is the exception that tests the rule.
For people, like movie buff Niyati Sheth, even multiplexes have lost their charm. The 32-year-old Chembur resident is uncomfortable visiting them, as they are running "khali". Instead, Niyati, her husband and another couple spend time at home. "We watch movies at home. We also sit and speak about interesting stuff, something we hadn't done for a long time. A lunch then turns into dinner, and dinner, sleepover."
Shruti Mehta, a dealer in the interest rate swaps market, is enjoying the phase. "It is like family away from family for me." Visiting or calling over friends is not time-bound and formal, a fact the 27-year-old Vile Parle resident realised inadvertently. Nobody was willing to shell out money for eating out or even going dutch. Her generation had never learned to scrounge. "Now, we think a 100 times before even buying a t-shirt. It's a corrective measure," she says.
Whether the rediscovery of bonds and the simple pleasures of life will outlast the current gloom is anybody's guess. "It depends on the motivation for bonding in the first place," says Minnu Bhonsale, a consulting psychiatrist and relationship counsellor. "If it is over fear and because you've lost a job, you will go back to your comfort zone as things improve. A couple would return to accompanying each other to the multiplex and watching movies sitting side by side like zombies."
But if you have started to value your one-on-one interactions with family and loved ones-because earlier you were too busy eating, drinking and pubbing-it amounts to "paradise regained".