I was born in 1996, right in that odd little space where we don’t fully belong to Millennials, nor do we feel like pure Gen Z. We’re what the world now calls Zillennials — a micro-generation caught between two tides of time. And if you, like me, sometimes feel lost, I want you to know this: it’s not your fault.
Think about the life we grew up with. As kids, we still remember landlines and tape recorders, standing in long queues at PCO booths to make calls, waiting for Sunday TV shows on Doordarshan, and carefully saving every SMS because our phone memory was limited. At the same time, we were also the first ones to jump onto Orkut, Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp as teenagers. (Guys, do you remember the time YouTube was ad-free? Oh those good old days! ). We straddled both worlds — the slow, analog India of the 90s and the hyper-digital India of the 2000s. That’s what makes us different, but also what makes us confused.
Our teenage years and early adulthood collided with turbulence. The 2008 financial crisis quietly shaped our households. I remember this vividly because my birthday falls on the day of the Mumbai attacks. There was no celebration that year. Many of us saw parents tightening budgets, relatives whispering about “stability.” Then, as we tried to step into adulthood, the pandemic hit. Weddings were postponed, careers were stalled. I left my job about three months before the lockdown happened and started my business. The first order we received was on the second day the lockdown was announced.
And now, in our late 20s, we are still untangling the mess of expectations: earn well, get married, settle down, build something of our own — all at once.
Sometimes we blame ourselves for not having it figured out. But here’s the truth: we are the middle generation of the century. We’ve lived through two Indias — one where dreams were simpler and life was slower, and one where everything is fast, global, and overwhelming. We’ve had to adapt without a guidebook. No wonder we feel stretched thin.
But the beauty of being a Zillennial is also this: we know how to hold contradictions. We can enjoy chai at a roadside tapri and also a cappuccino at Starbucks. We can respect our parents’ need for “security” while still chasing our own creative passions. We can write in notebooks, yet thrive on Notion boards. We are the bridge between what was and what is becoming.
Yes, we are all struggling in our own way. Some of us are trying to build businesses, some are trying to find love, some are just trying to breathe. But none of it is wasted. Because struggle is not a sign of weakness — it is proof that we are trying to make sense of a world that keeps changing faster than us.
So if you’re a 90s-born like me and you wake up some days feeling like you don’t belong anywhere — remember this: we are not meant to “belong” to a single box. We are writing a new story, one where contradictions are allowed, and confusion is simply part of being alive right now.
And maybe that’s the most Zillennial thing of all: to keep moving, even when the path isn’t clear.
