The lost summers of ‘naani ka ghar’: What 90s kids had that Gen Z doesn’t

NEW DELHI,MAY 20 : In the India of the 1990s, summer vacation didn’t begin when the last exam ended. It began with a question whispered in excitement-“Kab jaa rahe ho Naani ke ghar?”

That one destination held the power to transform two plain months into a magical saga. Whether it was Kanpur, Coimbatore, Bhubneshwar or Bhopal, Naani ka ghar was the annual pilgrimage of joy. Trains were booked months in advance. Cousins were counted. Gifts were packed. The smell of mangoes and pickle-making would hit you the moment you entered the house. There were no resorts, no five-star itineraries. Just a floor to sleep on, ten people in one room, and a kind of happiness that came from shared meals, shared stories, and shared secrets.

THE TRAIN JOURNEY WAS THE VACATION

Back in the 90s, the summer vacation didn’t start at the destination-it began the moment we boarded the train. Mothers would pack steel tiffin boxes with aloo-puri and mango pickle wrapped in newspaper. A bottle of water from home and a stash of Tinkle, Champak, or Chacha Chaudhary comics kept us entertained long before smartphones ever existed.

There was always that one chatty co-passenger who would share stories, snacks, or sometimes even life advice. And then, as the train neared the final stop, the real excitement kicked in. We’d stand by the open door two stations before, faces lit up with the rush of wind and anticipation, looking out for familiar landmarks, shouting, “Agla station Naani ke ghar hai!” That thrill-the kind that came with no seatbelts, no selfies, just pure, unfiltered joy-is what many kids today might never know.

COUSINS: THE FIRST AND FOREVER GANG

Cousins weren’t distant relatives; they were your friend , philosopher and guide. Summer was your yearly reunion-one long sleepover that lasted weeks. You didn’t need a Netflix account when you had seven cousins, each funnier than the other.

You played cards, you fought over ludo, you took turns on the bicycle with a broken pedal, and you never needed an adult to keep you entertained.

AND THEN, CAME THE ULTIMATE GAME: DARK ROOM.

A game that turned ordinary rooms into haunted mansions. Lights off. Curtains drawn. One person blindfolded. Everyone else hiding behind curtains, under beds, behind doors. Shrieks, giggles, accidental bumps, and the thrill of being “caught” – all in the name of innocent fun.

THE NIGHT SHIFT: GHOST STORIES UNDER BLANKETS

Once the power went out (and it always did), a new ritual began. You gathered under mosquito nets or on the terrace, under a blanket of stars, listening to someone-usually the eldest cousin-whisper ghost stories. Some were made up, some inherited from older cousins, all terrifying.

“My older cousin would whisper ghost stories that he claimed were true. We were petrified, but no one left the circle. That’s how memories were made-no filter, no phone, just fear and fun,” -laughs Maitreyee Ghosh, a writer and mom of a 7-year-old.

The result? Nobody wanted to use the bathroom alone, and everyone ended up sleeping in a huddle. But oh, this fear created memories instead of trauma.

WHAT THIS GENERATION IS MISSING

Summer is filled with structured productivity-online courses, hobby workshops, and carefully planned vacations.

Instead of playing dark room, kids play Call of Duty.

Instead of ghost stories, they watch horror shorts on YouTube-alone.

The real loss? Connection. Chaos. Community.

This generation may have better gadgets, but they’ve missed out on the warmth of sleeping next to five cousins on a mattress on the floor, stealing mangoes from the kitchen, or laughing until your stomach hurt because someone farted during antakshari.

“In the 90s, the extended family played a central role in raising children, and summer vacations were often seen as a time to strengthen those bonds-especially through long stays at grandparents’ homes with cousins. But with rising urban migration, the growth of nuclear families, and increasing career demands, many parents today opt for experiential or aspirational getaways-be it resorts, beaches, or amusement parks-as a way to compensate for limited family time,” explains Ms. Kshitija Sawant, University Psychologist-Counselor at Somaiya Vidyavihar University.

She adds, “We are living in a hi-tech, AI-driven world where aligning with global trends has become the norm. This shift toward Western models of development has restructured traditional family systems-many children now grow up in nuclear or single-parent households, often without siblings or close relatives nearby. As a result, the focus for parents has moved away from fostering extended family bonds to prioritizing physical growth, personality development, and skill-building. Enrolling children in courses, bootcamps, or summer camps is now seen not just as productive, but also as a marker of economic prosperity and modern parenting.”

WHY WE STILL CRAVE THAT TIME

Ask anyone who grew up in the 90s, and they’ll tell you: no vacation, no foreign trip, no five-star experience compares to the joy of a summer spent with your entire ecosystem under one roof.

“The things we remember from childhood aren’t the gadgets. They’re the moments. The stories. The mess. I want my kids to have that,”

-says Nidhi Arora, a schoolteacher in Jaipur.

Can We Bring Some of That Back?

Maybe we can’t fully recreate those 90s summers, but we can revive parts of them.

Take that train ride. Visit Naani without an agenda.

Bring cousins together for a few days, no screens, no schedules.

Introduce your kids to dark room, chor-police, or storytelling nights.

Don’t fix their boredom-let them sit in it. That’s where imagination is born.

“We recently stayed with my wife’s family for a week. My 9-year-old daughter said it was the best part of her year-just being with her cousins. That made me realise how starved this generation is for unstructured joy,”

Children themselves, when given a taste of the old-school summer, light up.

Today’s kids may never know the joy of getting 5 rupees from Naani to buy orange bar ice cream, or the mischief of secretly using her talcum powder to play ‘shaadi shaadi’. But maybe, if we pause, unplug, and let go of the urge to fill every hour with a purpose, we can give them a taste of what we had.

Because the greatest summer memories are not made in malls or on tablets. They’re made under fans with no speed regulator, in homes with too many people and too little space-but hearts overflowing with love.

-The India Today