Last night when the grandfather clock in our living room struck 12, I was fast asleep almost dead to the world. I’d spent the better part of the day tidying up the house, getting rid of things and making way for a clean start to a new year. Besides with the TV blaring bad news of gangrape in Delhi, I was glad to shut out this awful news that was going round and round in my head.

So my New Year’s Eve was quiet, just curled up in bed.