So what is it about the holiday season that has us all perked up? While in the USA, and most parts of the outside world, holiday season dawns around Christmas and New Year’s. But in India, holiday season translates into the break that we get around Diwali. But of course we are Indian and we love to celebrate! So with the same fervor as we celebrate Dusshera and the Festival of Lights... we also hop around when New Year’s comes along. People apply for offs in their offices, make travel plans, get excited on Christmas eve and are part of a big party on New Year’s night.

Getting drunk and happy is a fad, new winter clothes are purchased to flaunt, families go on an overdrive and install Christmas trees (‘install’ too mechanical a word?), teach their children about Santa and his stockings, have family dinners and rum cakes. All a big package of happiness. While on most years I am clueless about my plans and hate the festive season... this year I am happy.

When I was a child, my relatives from the great United States of America gifted me a huge 5-book collection of Santa stories in a giant book jacket... packed up like a gift. That green, 100 by 100 inches box (I am not kidding), was the most prized possession of my yesteryears. I held it close to my heart, showed it off to my friends and read each book carefully... turning one banana leaf discreetly after the other, to absorb and memorize each line. I learnt about Santa, his habitat, reindeers, mistletoes, stockings, chimneys, sleighs, Antarctica, decorations, confetti, rum and fig cakes... all from those five precious books. The last page of the fifth book had a full two page rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’ and my toes would stand up for a tap dance each time I read it. Now as an adult, I might have misplaced my box-set... but fond memories remain. The feel of those creamy pages and the smell of freshness linger in my head. I was blessed with a colour-filled and playful childhood. Touché.

Having attended a fancy school where conversing in English right from the first grade was a fad (we were punished if someone was heard talking in Hindi), the Christmas (and subsequently New Year’s) festivities lingered on. In my fourth grade, I would hang a sparkling white stocking with my gift wish-list scribbled and stuffed inside it, on the doorknob. But to my disappointment, there would be no gifs in the morning. That was because my parents were blissfully unaware of any such activity going on in my room as me and my brother both had a separate room to ourselves. So sadness dawdled there.

But that didn’t stop me from pestering my father to get us the most baroque New Year’s reservations. While in some years he would succumb to that demand and spend oodles of money getting us a good spot... in the others, we would have street golgappas at midnight, or be snuggled in our beds watching New Year’s programming on TV. In one of those years, SaReGaMa was big and I have clear recollections of watching Anu Kapoor usher us into the New Year with his cheerful voice.

Last year, I was lucky enough to spend both Christmas and New Year’s in the Big Apple. The place to be - NEW YORK CITY. Eat your hearts out. Amazon Kindle as my gift, Times Square on 31^st midnight and an American Diner for dinner. Total and absolute bliss. In the Americas, this time of the year is angelic. Most major tech companies launch their line of new advanced tech offerings to woo the buyers. And it’s a shopper’s delight to indulge in the joys of the latest iPhone or iPad, Amazon Kindle Fire or Barnes and Noble’s Nook. They are everywhere and if you don’t bag one, your New Year’s sucked.

The ‘Food’ around Christmas - means different things to different people. To me, it’s a lot of cakes and wines. And chocolates! Who can forget the chocolates?! Molten, brown, white, dark, bitter, sweet, Belgian, desi, etc. No end to this list. The more the merrier. Ho ho ho.

The ‘Clothes’ – India or abroad, there are HUGE discounts on clothing in this season. Latest fashion brands selling at cheesecake rates. Or hot bread rates. Or hot dog rates. Best time to hoard them, wear them, buy some, throw some more (money) and hoard some again for the rest of the winters. Victoria’s Secret, Louis Vuitton, Van Heusen, Gucci, Jimmy Choo and Ray Ban. Time to get the best deals on everything!

The ‘Movies’ – Oscar and Grammy nominations are released. And the best movies of Hollywood hit the screens in this month. For 2011, the list is as impressive with – Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol, Sherlock Holmes 2, The Descendants, Ides of March, The Iron Lady, etc. I have watched the ones that have released and have plans too for watching the rest of them. The list last year was as glorious with cinematic gems like – The King’s Speech, The Black Swan, Rabbit Hole – being doled out. Then too, I watched each and every one of them, including a Spanish film ‘Biutiful’.

So in conclusion, as I sit here in the yellow glow of my room’s lighting, snug in a blanket on a crisp white winter Christmas morning, I revel in the celebratory aura that hangs in the air. I shall visit the fanciest mall in Delhi to gawk at their biggest Christmas tree, have a rum cake, walk in the evening cold and finally end the day with a few drinks to warm up. Merry Christmas to ye all :) Tons to do this year!

It gives you a high when you begin your year in the valleys with close friends. I started mine in the with a train trip to Himachal Pradesh…

Jan 1, 2010
Kalka Shatabdi leaves Delhi at around 7.30am in the morning. We reached at the nick of time, thanks to a very slow taxi-driver who despite our constant protests, insisted on stopping at the red-light outside the New Delhi Railway Station. Once boarded, and we were traveling first class, I remember looking out of the window and seeing beautiful landscapes slip by. Amidst the pink ambience of the interiors of my train, it was a joyride all the way to Kalka.

Upon reaching the destination, a taxi took us to Shoghi. The driver this time was a Sikh who, I distinctly remember, stopped at a highway dhaba to fill up his stomach with tandoori chicken (or was this detail a fabrication of our idle minds?).

Shoghi was beautiful. Valleys were steep (:O) and we were staying at the emerald-queen of Shoghi vacation stays, Parkwoods Rustic Resort. My cottage was plain wood and basic, the bed was wrought-iron, and the bath-fittings were decent. Everything run on LPG… right from the geyser, all the way to the heater (prolonged use of an LPG heater can give you a headache, by the way).

While the day was spent in settling down, advent of the night saw a bonfire. Argumentative as we are, discussions followed. Tempers flared. Drinks flew around. Ashes left a weird stench in my locks. Retired for the night post 1am… slept almost immediately upon hitting the bed.



Jan 2, 2010
And woke up early. With a throbbing headache. Picked up a high-resolution Canon camera and stepped out to shoot after popping in a crocin. The high valleys and hammock, the scattered pine-cones and the early morning mist, interesting flowers and beautiful hills. I clicked some of the best pictures of the trip here. Wooden huts with chairs and tables outside. The grey ashes of our previous night’s bonfires were still fresh.

In the afternoon, we set out for a mountain trek. It might interest you to know that the author of this post suffers from vertigo. So basically for the most parts of this 1.5hrs trek, I was a nervous wreak. At one point, I even remember asking our trek-guide if anybody had ever slipped from these valleys and died (:O!). He was kind enough to just smile. Others laughed (grrr :P).

Post-trek came the body massages. Callous village people were called to ‘massage’ us with mustard oil (think: dara singh champis). After my turn, I was impatient to take a bath and get all the mustard oil off me. What an ordeal. For everybody traveling to Shoghi, please skip the oil-massages.

The beautiful night saw another orange-aura bonfire. Food was delicious, I got served Top Ramen on request. Someone was kind enough to hand-feed me because I was feeling whimsical. That same someone lit up the night with resplendently-sung soft Hindi songs and ghazals. I made a video. This someone made the trip worthwhile. There were no arguments this night. Only discussions about a game of Scrabble played earlier in the day, and some nostalgic school talks, and lot of reminiscing. I slept like a baby that night too.



Jan 3, 2010
A cab was called to ferry us to Shimla (15kms away from Shoghi). Although distance wasn’t much, the route felt longer with all the circular mountain tracks of Himachal Pradesh. This time the taxi guy was calmer (and not a Sikh!). A friend insisted we stopped along a grocery shop on the way because he had to (had to!) buy his cans of Diet Coke. Almost his staple diet, I’d say.

In Shimla, we zeroed in on an ITC hotel for our stay. The wooden interiors were missing, but this place was more swanky (obviously!) that our Shoghi place of stay. A walk on Mall Road proved good. Some scandalous pictures were clicked on Scandal Point. The clouds overpowered us mid-way and it started to pour. Amidst the cloud-walk, we foot-soldiers struggled to find a shelter. Café Coffee Day was encroached upon after satiating our hunger with hot pakoras on the road. I splurged on a sinful, but fuzzy serving, of Chocolate Excess. Temperatures outside were sub-zero. I could almost see virtual cats and dogs in the rain.

After a cozy-cum-splashy walk back to our plush hotel, our jeans were wet. Snacks and food made an appearance in our beds that night (aka room-service). Scrabble was out again, I won a wonderful game. Proved some girl-power. A card-game of Bluff was the highlight of the night. Needless to say, yours truly won again.

That night I slept late… a stench of onions with chicken tikkas stayed in my head.



Jan 4, 2010
Early morning cab to Kufri. Snow has bestowed dear Earth with whiteness. We were going to Kufri to have our share of snowball-fun before catching the train to Delhi. Kalka was 4-hours away from where we were. Cab-ride was fun. Everyone jumped at the slightest sight of snow.

Cars were skidding, we decided to step out and play foot-soldiers again. The walk up the mountain was fun. Our pony-rides to the top of the mountain were more fun. Angers flared as we got a little late in returning to the cab. Some feared we would miss our train.

And train we did miss. But what followed later could have been worse. Destiny put all its forces together to get us late. On the 4-hour drive back from Kufri, we found ourselves stuck in a 6 kilometers long highway jam. No place to run. Hard mountain on one side, deep valley on another. Someone checked his watch 30 times in 30 minutes. Consequently, we missed our train by just five minutes. Cab guy was kind enough to arrange another cab to Delhi for us. Charged us quite a bit (scoundrel?). We hit town post 12am, I was in bed by 1.30. Before I drifted off to sleep, I smiled selfishly at a year begun adventurously. Lo and behold outside-world, you have enough reason to be jealous :) Amen.



P.S. Television writing in college has screwed up my sentence-length!

There’s something about Bombay that draws me to it…

3:30 at night, sifting through my albums, looking for snaps to pass on to a friend… I’m reminded of the two wonderful days that I spent recently in the maximum city. Reflecting on what enthralled my senses the most, the answer emerges almost effortlessly when I think of the sea. From carter road to marine drive… the sea held my attention for unusually long spells, much to the dismay of my Bombay relations who loathed the idea of even setting foot on the beach. So while the world was busy shunning away the waters, I rolled up my jeans and stepped in without any inhibition.

Two tranquil evenings in Bombay, both spent on the beaches, pondering over the vagaries of the everyday world. Standing on the shoreline, I had the hustle-bustle of a very busy metro city on one end… and the comfort of a serene endless sea on the other. Why am I going gaga over the waters? Well for one, having spent almost my entire life shuttling between Jaipur and Delhi, the absence of beaches or any other form of water-body made its presence felt early in my existence. Second, and this realization is relatively new, I recently discovered my love for Mother Nature.

Standing at the shore with the water hitting my legs and then retreating gently while slowly taking away with it the sand from beneath my feet, I shift my weight from foot to foot… staring aimlessly at the seams of the sea blending subtly with the blues of the sky at the horizon. Marine drive, famous as the queen’s necklace, affords the most scenic pleasures that the eyes could ask for. While progressing from evening to night, watching the sun disappear behind the high-risers and skyscrapers that define the Bombay skyline… I pat my back for having reserved an isolated spot on marine drive for soaking in the view that I knew I wouldn’t be seeing again in a very long time. While my friends grumble from behind that Goa has all the real beaches and this place hardly qualifies as even hygienic… I ignore the ranting and continue to revel in the moment. I think about Dharavi, and I think about the Taj. I think about gloominess, and I think about delightedness. I think about what lay buried deep inside the Arabian Sea waters, and I think about the untold secrets that the endless skies held up there for us. I feel like a free bird for whom the entire ocean spread ahead, while simultaneously I also feel like an insignificant speck in contrast to the spread of the whole wide universe. The senses betray each other. While the ears are engaged by the stillness of the sea, occasionally stirred by the sound of the waters hitting the shores… the eyes see the moving cars and constant motion in a city that is touted as never being asleep. There’s something about Bombay that draws me to it… the compounding of two polar fantasies here on the beach might have something to do with it…