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Humour: To escape or not to escape?
That is the question as the festive season nears this unclassifiable year
Something about October makes us humans want to take stock. As the fury of the summer and relentlessness of the rains subside, the year slows down. The festive season appears, always expected yet always sudden. The poetry of the waning year lightens the prose of the preceding months. But this, of course, is 2020. And I shudder to think what the winter of our discontent might bring.
I’m dreaming of a quiet Diwali
Whether we are able to gather together or not, Diwali will punctually arrive. I’m dreaming of a quiet celebration this time round, somewhere in the open with those I love. This innocent dream, however, requires planning that rivals that of a World War II master strategist. The questions begin quite benignly: Who’s in? What dates work? Things get more complicated from here. Gone are the days when one could spontaneously fly over to a beach somewhere in Goa or Phuket and regret the decision at the overcrowded home airport itself. I miss that sense of niggling regret while suffering the torments of the overzealous one-man band while simultaneously trying to get the bartender’s attention and avoiding my city neighbours. Ah, to be impulsive and disappointed again!
Now it’s the reverse. Googling holiday destinations is a task riddled with dangers. If you’re not careful, you’ll get deflated at the mere mention of exaggerated security measures and diminished offerings. For instance, you might get your own private fumigation equipment at the hotel, but the kitchen will be closed. Or the pool will be cordoned off but you’ll get shrink-wrapped sandwiches for the ride back home.
A village called Namoona
We are now in that zone where the virus has come knocking on our doors – or the house next door, at the very least. And it’s tough to be tough all the time. Any sense of lightness and freedom may be (temporarily) lost, but I can attest to the fact that there are joys lurking around the corner along with the monsters.
Driving from Delhi to Uttarakhand recently, I decided against a dhaba stop. When the mandatory loo break arrived, at a well-appointed restaurant, I glanced at the sign just outside the premises. The village the driver had stopped at was called ‘Namoona’. The board further informed me that it was an open defecation-free zone, imbuing my restroom stop there with special meaning.
These are the travel moments that we have all craved this sordid year. It’s not just about breakfast buffets and mints on the pillow. It is these random little moments that one only experiences while travelling on Indian roads. From biryani vats in Rampur markets to pine-scented stretches in Corbett territory, it was reassuring to know that the outside world still exists in all its variety and promise. And there’s still a way to enjoy these, armed with masks, sanitisers and sprays. And that one friend on WhatsApp eternally worried on your behalf.
What’s the WiFi password?
The constant scouring of villas to rent might be the favourite activity of us WiFi-enriched housebound millions. Scrolling through sites listing these properties makes one misty-eyed: a spectacular sunset here, a freshly powdered carrom board there. But what everyone really wants to know is about the WiFi. Diwali break or not, never before have we been so attached to the internet, our primary means of survival this year. My mind goes back to an off-the-grid vacation a couple of years ago, where the management was proud of the fact that their estate in the forest was electricity and network-free. So when people missed human contact, or needed to engage their minds, they actually spoke to one another, making eye contact and all. Imagine that!
The pandemic has made everyone a travel writer. Social media is fuelled by nostalgic posts about past journeys, or dreams of future ones. In the middle lies the present in all its uncertainty. Those crazy adventures through exciting cities are clearly on hold right now, but there are worlds out there to get lost in, not far from our urban coops. Planning a holiday in your Covid bubble will throw up all sorts of challenges, from sudden panic to long-simmering dissatisfaction. Be strong. If you persist, you’ll all come out of this smelling of rose-scented sanitiser.
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From HT Brunch, October 25, 2020
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