Being A Millennial And Yet Not The Stereotype

Digital Marketers tag kids my age “Millennials.” Those of us born in the 80s and 90s, who’ve grown up with technology and an apparently hungry appetite for life. We think in English and our Hindi has a strange accent. They define our T.G as explorers, curious people who barely sleep, are always on their toes and juggle between tasks better than any circus professional. We’re active on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. We don’t go out without a check-in.

We’re also the ones who hit the clubs, the stories of our lives full of one night stands and those nights spent with friends and F.R.I.E.N.D.S. We define success as going to work on a Monday and not knowing when we’ll get out. Or staying in office, making groundbreaking presentations till 3 am, and coming back to work at 9 am craving an XXL sized coffee barely having slept a wink.

We rock. We don’t know when the week ends and when weekends end. Our schedules fuller than Kylie Jenner’s lips. This is the blueprint of the best life possible. We’re living the best life possible.

I’m a millennial. But I don’t have the same ideology, and I believe that’s okay.

My friends give me major side-eye when I opt out of plans because I wanted to catch up on my sleep, and one time I got a lecture when I said I look forward to being a monk someday. My friends think I’m an idiot for not “living” and “having fun” in my 20s. #YOLO, right? But my new, and perhaps true, definition of life has come with a huge price — the death of my parents.

I was busy living my “youth,” spending away my life at the office, chasing success, chatting blissfully on WhatsApp not looking up even for a minute not knowing all of this will come back to bite me in my wholesome rear. I wish I’d have spent that precious time with them instead of staring at a screen, indulging in conversations I can’t even recollect right now. I look back at my life and the memory of them is most clear from the times when I was a kid, and then from the time when they were dying/had died right before my eyes. Everything in between is faded because I barely gave them my time.

This was perhaps their last lesson to me–to live a more meaningful life, with those who add meaning to it. I lost a lot of friends because to them, I had become boring. My circle became smaller and ironically, richer. I discovered the true me.

I choose sleeping peacefully over dressing up and going to a club. I’d rather save the money over spending 3 grand on an EDM music festival. I like having a job that lets me go home at a reasonable time. I like making tea for my sister, listening to her stories from the office and telling her mine. I like making lunch plans with my friends where I can actually talk to them. I like having plans with my family in the city, and spending time with my cousins. I don’t take many pictures, I try to record the feeling, the sound of their voices and their laughter in my memory.

I like my meaningful, millennial life.