Off to the movies!

Watching James Bond do his stuff in the cinema hall, it felt as if life was finally returning to normal

 

Streaming services have kept me sane during the pandemic, and I will always be grateful to them for the cheer they provided during this difficult time. But even as I was binge-watching all my favourite shows from the comfort of my couch, I still missed going to the cinema. There is something special about sitting in a large, darkened hall, with a bunch of other people and watching a movie on a giant screen. And no matter how hard you try to replicate that experience at home, it simply does not work.

 

So, you can imagine my excitement when Delhi cinemas opened just in time to air the new James Bond movie, No Time To Die. But that excitement was shot through with more than a smidgen of apprehension. Was I really going to sit in close proximity with strangers in a closed space for around three hours? Did the risk-benefit analysis really work? Was it worth taking a chance on getting Covid simply so that I could watch Daniel Craig on a big screen, doing the final honors by Bond? 

 

Well, after much agonizing and discussion with my husband – a die-hard Bond fan himself – I decided to bite the bullet and head out to the movies. Cinemas are only allowed to sell 50 per cent of their seats, but we decided that discretion was the better part of valour and chose an afternoon show on a weekday, on the grounds that this would be less crowded.

 

It’s hard to describe the thrill when we entered the darkened hall to be shown to our last-row seats by an usher. Looking around, we were delighted to note that our strategy had worked. The hall had only a smattering of people, all of them seated at some distance from one another. In fact, we had sat in closer proximity to strangers in some restaurants we had dined at recently; not to mention some flights we had taken since the pandemic began.

 

Somehow those comparisons made me feel rather more secure. And even though I had arrived wearing an N-95 mask, which I was determined to keep on for the duration of the movie, I soon began re-evaluating my decision. As the smell of buttered popcorn wafted in the air, and my mouth began watering in anticipation, I began to wonder why I was so reluctant to unmask in here. After all, I unmask and eat in restaurants and airplanes all the time, when other people are seated so much closer to me. So, why was I so scared to do so in a cinema hall, where there was far more social distancing?

 

My husband must have been having the same kind of thoughts, because the next thing I knew we had giant tubs of popcorn in our laps (with Diet sodas on the side). And as the ads finally ended and James Bond appeared on our screens to scattered applause, we settled down to the movie experience that millions have enjoyed over the past decades. A crunch of salty popcorn in our mouths, washed down with a rush of sugary sweetness, and a cracking good story on the big screen to lose ourselves in. 

 

It felt so great to be back at the movies. But more than that, it felt great to have a taste of normalcy in our lives. To do the kinds of things that we did before the pandemic struck. For those three hours at least, we could pretend that Covid 19 did not exist and all was well in the world.

 

Of course, the moment the movie ended and we put our masks back on to exit the cinema hall, reality came crashing back. The coronavirus is still very much among us and will probably be around for years to come. But the only way to cope, I believe, is to take joy in little things – like being able to go to the movies. 

 

You should try it – but pick an afternoon, weekday show if you can!

 

Thrill a minute

Here’s a list of books that will keep you reading late into the night

 

I am happy to report that the sequel to my book, Race Course Road, is finally done. I spent the last month putting the final touches to the manuscript before sending it off for typesetting, and in a couple of months, Madam Prime Minister will be available in all good bookshops across the country (and on Kindle, obviously).

 

So, how did I celebrate, you ask. Well, having spent so much time writing, revising, and proofing, I treated myself to a reading extravaganza, bingeing on my favourite genre: thrillers of every persuasion. Here’s a small sample of what I devoured. You might want to taste a mouthful or two as well. 

 

A Slow Fire Burning by Paula Hawkins

 

If you loved The Girl On The Train, you will enjoy this new thriller from Hawkins. The story begins with the murder of a young man on a houseboat, with suspicion immediately falling on a blood-soaked girl who is seen leaving the boat soon before his body is discovered. But as is usual with Hawkins, nothing is as it seems, and the suspects pile up as the plot becomes more and more complicated. And the denouement, when it comes, will be nothing like you imagined. 

 

You Love Me by Caroline Kepnes 

 

I remember being completely blown away by You, the first novel to feature Joe Goldberg as its anti-hero, when it first came out. Written from the point of view of a stalker, and later, murderer, it was quite unlike anything I had ever read. The second book in the series, Hidden Bodies, was quite as unsettling – as was the Netflix adaptation of the series. But this, the third outing of Joe, finds our protagonist looking to put his past behind him and settle down, thanks to the love of a good woman. Needless to say, nothing goes according to plan, as Joe’s essential nature reasserts itself. 

 

Hostage by Clare Mackintosh

 

This is another edge-of-the-seat thriller by the Queen of Suspense. Flight attendant Mina, grappling with marital woes, volunteers to do duty on an inaugural 20-hour non-stop flight from London to Sydney. But soon after take-off, she is handed a note by a passenger: the plane should not reach its destination, or else something will happen to her five-year-old daughter back home. How do you balance the lives of so many strangers on the airplane with that of one life: that of your daughter? There are no good answers to that question.  

 

Big Summer by Jennifer Weiner

 

Daphne Berg and Drue Cavanaugh were unlikely friends in high school until a humiliating (for Daphne) incident destroyed their relationship. Now, six years later, Daphne – always a big girl – has become a plus-sized influencer on Instagram, when Drue reappears in her life, contrite about what split them apart and insistent that Daphne attend her upcoming society wedding on Cape Cod as her bridesmaid. Daphne agrees and that’s when things take a turn and this book turns from a lighthearted comedy to a murder mystery. This abrupt switching of genres might jar in the hands of a lesser writer but Weiner, as always, makes it work. 

 

Not A Happy Family by Shari Lapena

 

Fred and Sheila Merton host Easter dinner for their three children (and their partners) and make an unexpected announcement that causes tempers to flare and disagreements ensue. The next day, the couple are found dead, murdered by person or persons unknown. Were the murders the result of a break-in gone wrong or did one of their children finally snap and kill them? Suspicion falls on every member of the family as the story unfolds, and the suspense is built so skillfully that you will find it hard to put this book down.

 

False Witness by Karin Slaughter

 

Your past has a way of catching up with you no matter how hard you try to leave it behind. Leigh Collier has overcome a traumatic childhood to build an ordinary life as a defence attorney with a teenage daughter she co-parents with her husband, from whom she is amicably separated. But then, she comes face-to-face with a client, who knows exactly what she is trying to escape from her past. And the only way to deal with him is to enlist the help of her younger, estranged sister, Callie. Part family tragedy, part thriller, this story will keep you up at night.

 

Mask? What mask?

Negotiating a world in which no one believes in Covid protocols can be a scary experience

 

What do you do when you are the only person wearing a face mask in a room full of unmasked people? What do you say when the unmasked lady sitting next to you asks, in a very passive-aggressive manner, “Are you very scared of Covid?” 

 

Well, I don’t know what the etiquette in such circumstances is, so I can only tell you what I did. I kept my mask – an N95 no less – resolutely on, refusing to take it off even for the pictures that everyone was posing for. And I responded, as coldly as I could, to the question I was asked. “Yes, I am scared of Covid,” I said, and then added after a beat, “And so should you be.”

 

It’s probably needless to say that she paid no attention to my advice, and continued to keep her face mask off for the duration of the event that we were both attending. As did the rest of the audience in that large hall. 

 

I should not have been surprised, really. Ever since we landed in Amritsar for a book launch, the one thing we had noticed was the complete absence of mask discipline in the city. Nobody on the roads wore masks, not even the policemen. Guests at our hotel cheerfully ignored the signs that specified masks in all public areas and moved around barefaced. And those who did put them on, kept them around the chin area, leaving their noses and mouths unencumbered. 

 

When we mentioned this on Twitter, we were told by some people who had visited the Golden Temple that they had been asked to take off their masks by the guards before they were allowed inside the Darbar Sahib. “Don’t you trust in God to take care of you?” they were asked. There was only one way to respond: and that was to remove their masks.

 

Hurriedly cancelling our own plans of visiting Harmandir Sahib – hitherto an essential stop on every trip to Amritsar, given my Punjabi roots – we settled down in the safety of our own room to recover from this culture shock. Coming from Delhi, where mask discipline is strictly enforced and adhered to (especially after the second wave), this mask-less world took some getting used to. 

 

When I tried to explain this to some of the guests at the book launch the next day, they waved away my fears with an airy, “Oh, there is no Covid in Punjab now. Only 30 cases in the entire state.” Yes, I agreed, but there are only around 30 cases every day in Delhi too, and yet people wear masks to make sure that we don’t have a third wave in a few weeks’ time. Oh Delhi, they muttered exasperatedly, that is nothing like Punjab.

 

There was no good response to that, so I kept my peace and moved on. But this exchange – and many others like it – did get me thinking. Were these people being totally irresponsible and risking sparking a third wave in their city? Or was I being needlessly nervous about contracting Covid in an environment in which nearly everyone was double vaccinated? Were they being stupid or was I just virtue-signaling?

 

Well, you can make up your own mind about that. But, as far as I am concerned, in these times, discretion is the better part of valour. And in the age of Corona, discretion involves masking up in public, especially when indoors, practicing social distancing from people who are not in your bubble, and sanitizing your hands ever so often. So, that’s what I did during my short stay in Amritsar, ignoring the pitying looks being cast in my direction from all the mask-less people around. 

 

And it came as something of a relief to finally land back in Delhi, at an airport where everyone was masked, driving back home on streets where people observed mask discipline. Of course, it felt even better to take off my mask in the sanctuary of my own home. But that, as the saying goes, is another story.

 

Come, dine with me

If you are feeling stressed about entertaining at home after a long hiatus, here are some tips

 

I am happy to report that I have crossed another milestone in my post-pandemic life. I had friends over for dinner for the first time since Corona upended all our lives. My husband and I had been venturing out to the homes of close friends over the past couple of months. But somehow we hadn’t got around to entertaining at home. Last week, however, we decided it was time to bite the bullet and get some friends over for a home-cooked meal, instead of venturing out to restaurants as we had been doing until now. 

 

And I am so glad that we did. It was such an amazing feeling to sit around the table with friends we had known forever, eating a simple meal – sausages on a bed of peppers, a pasta with tomato sauce, roasted potatoes, and a caprese salad – that I had spent the entire afternoon cooking, sipping on some red wine, and chatting endlessly about topics both sublime and ridiculous. 

 

Laughter rang out all around the house, the pink roses I had bought specially for the occasion permeated the air with their sweet smell, and all felt right with the world again. In fact, it felt so right that I wondered why I had spent so much time agonizing about the evening, worrying about what to cook, what tableware to use, what drinks to serve, and other useless stuff like that. As it turned out, all we needed was some simple food, some full-bodied wine, and the company of one another to have a fabulous time. 

 

In case you too are agonizing about entertaining at home after a hiatus of a couple of years, here are some tips based on my own personal experience.

 

·       A little clutter never hurt anyone. Don’t agonize over getting the house looking pristine just because you are having friends over. There is no need to erase every sign of your presence in the house just because you are entertaining. You can leave your books and magazines strewn about, you don’t have to plump up every cushion, and you certainly don’t need to dust every house plant. This is your home, the place you live in, not a sterile, impersonal hotel room. So, don’t try to make it look like one.

·       If you plan to cook for your friends, spend some time and effort in planning the menu. I always try to make one dish that can be cooked in advance the day before and benefits from overnight refrigeration. If you are making three things on the day of the party, then try and make two things that can be cooked in the afternoon and finished/reheated in the oven or microwave just before dinner is served. Don’t make more than one dish – or, at a pinch, two – a la minute, or you will be too stressed to actually enjoy the evening. And don’t be shy about supplementing your efforts with a couple of store-bought items (salami, sausages, etc.); not everything has to be made from scratch even if you did promise them a home-cooked meal.

·       The secret to hosting a good dinner party is to keep your hosts – and yourselves – well lubricated. If you are feeling nervous about entertaining at home because you feel you have lost the knack of hosting, pour yourself a drink before your guests arrive, and spend 15 minutes just chatting with your other half to calm yourself down. Keep the drinks coming once your guests get there, until everyone is just a tiny bit merry. You can switch to wine with dinner, and slip in some brandy or port with the cheese and dessert. Just make sure that nobody is driving home after, before you begin pouring!

·       And if things do wrong, don’t fret about it. If your souffle doesn’t rise, it’s not a calamity. If the pasta is a bit overcooked, the heavens will not fall. If the meat in the biryani is not perfectly tender; it doesn’t really matter. Your guests are not Michelin inspectors who have come to grade your meal; they are friends who have come to enjoy an evening in your company. The food is not the point; you are. Remember that, and you can’t go wrong.

 

Deja Vu

Watching old shows is a way of reminding ourselves that nothing ever really changes in this world

 

The more things change, the more they remain the same. I was struck anew by this thought as I began re-watching Homeland, as part of my resolution to revisit all my favourite shows to see if they still resonated with me. And even though the show premiered ten years ago, it really could have been made this year. The Americans were enmeshed in an endless, seemingly futile war in Afghanistan, Pakistan’s ISI was playing both sides before betraying the USA in a spectacular fashion, the war in Syria was raging, young impressionable Muslim girls were being brainwashed to go join the global jihad, and much more in this vein. 

 

It was almost as if the writers of the show had time travelled to the present, read all the headlines in the newspapers, and based their scripts on them. The Americans were negotiating peace with the Taliban. The refugee camps were overflowing with people fleeing the conflict in Syria. Israel was attacking Iran’s nuclear scientists with magnetic bombs.

 

That same sense of déjà vu ensued while re-watching my other all-time favourite series, The West Wing, the first season of which was released way back in 1999. But even though we are now in the third decade of a new millennium, the themes of the show still seem current. One of the earlier episodes focuses on the border tensions between India and Pakistan, with the American President, Josiah Bartlett, feeling worried about the prospect of a nuclear confrontation between the two South Asian neighbours. Season five ends with violence on the Gaza Strip, which prompts President Bartlett to try and persuade the Israeli and Palestinian leadership to come to some sort of settlement (spoiler alert: he fails!).

 

It’s much the same story with the British spy drama, Spooks, which premiered in 2002. There is an ongoing conflict with Iran, because of its nuclear ambitions, that threatens to escalate into a full-on war, with the US planning air strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities. The Saudis are under suspicion of being involved with or giving succor to Al-Qaeda. And, with a certain inevitability, the two nuclear neighbours, India and Pakistan, are on the brink of war (yes, again!).

 

But, in case you think this feeling of déjà vu only extends to actions dramas and involves the themes of terrorism and war, well, think again. Re-watching the early seasons of The Crown, as I wait for the latest season to be released, I was struck by the parallels between the saga of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor and the Duke and Duchess of Sussex. Both Edward and Harry fell in love with and married two American divorcees, Wallis Simpson and Meghan Markle. Both couples gave up on royal life in the United Kingdom and left for foreign shores, the Windsors to France and the Sussexes to America. Both couples became immensely unpopular with the British media and public. And both seem consumed with anger and resentment at their treatment at the hands of the British royal family.

 

Last but not the least, there is that old classic, Yes Minister, and in its later incarnation, Yes Prime Minister. Even though the first episodes aired way back in 1980, the series speaks to us with an immediacy even today, with its portrayal of the general uselessness of politicians and the canny way in which they are manipulated by the bureaucrats who seem to be actually in charge. 

 

And then, of course, there are the one-liners that land with a zing even so many decades later. Here is Sir Humphrey: “Well, almost all government policy is wrong but…frightfully well carried out.” And in answer to Bernard saying, “But surely the citizens of a democracy have a right to know,” Sir Humphrey goes: “No, they have a right to be ignorant. Knowledge only means complicity in guilt; ignorance has a certain dignity.” And when Prime Minister Jim Hacker asks what he can do to continue the “run of success” of his government, Sir Humphrey replies, “Have you considered masterly inactivity?”

 

As I said, the more things change, the more they remain the same!

 

Life is too short...

To hoard your nice things; use them every single day instead

 

As part of my resolve to resume normal life – such as it is in times of Corona – I headed out to dinner to the home of a dear friend last week. It was just the four of us and the ambience was nice and relaxed, as we ate, drank and gossiped to our heart’s content. It was a lovely, home-style meal, served on a table that was dressed in an elegant but understated style. 

 

What blew me away, however, were the demitasse cups in which she served coffee after. They were beautiful bone china cups with a floral design, embellished with 24 carat gold and platinum. How did I know that? Well, because I also had the same sets of cups lying in my dining room cabinet, gifted by some friends as a housewarming present when we moved in our home many years ago. I had taken one look at the description (24 carat gold and platinum!) and stored them away safely in the cupboard; and that’s where they had stayed ever since.

 

I confessed sheepishly to my friend that I had never summoned up the nerve to use these cups in my own household because I was so afraid of damaging them through daily use. She first looked at me pityingly and then told me a little story.

 

Her mother-in-law, she said, used to be a woman after my own heart. All the best china and cutlery was locked away in a tall cupboard, and none of it ever saw the light of day. And then, one day, disaster struck. The entire cupboard came off the wall, falling to the floor in an almighty crash, and everything inside it was smashed to pieces.

 

There is a lesson there, she said solemnly, for people like you. There is no point stashing away your nice things in a cupboard for fear of ruining them. They may well be ruined anyway and then you will rue the fact that you never got to use them. 

 

That story resonated with me because something similar had happened to my own mother. All my life, growing up in Calcutta, we had a similar cupboard in which our bone china tea sets and dinner sets resided. You really had to rank as a guest to be served in those delicate cups, saucers and plates. For the most part they remained tucked away, being pulled out every Diwali when they were ritually cleaned, dried and then stuck back in the cupboard. 

 

Then, long after I had grown up and moved away, my mother packed up her household to move in with my sister in Delhi. But there was no way she was entrusting her bone china to the packers and movers who were dealing with the rest of her stuff. So, the tea sets and dinner sets were packed in layers of paper and bubble wrap and entrusted to my cousin who was travelling to Delhi a few months later, with the injunction to bring them with him.

 

Well, he did just that – but instead of hand-carrying this treasure, he checked it in. And, with a certain inevitability, when the packet was finally opened, nearly every bone china piece was broken or cracked. I don’t think my mother – God rest her soul! – ever recovered from the shock.

 

With these two stories reverberating in my mind, I woke up the next day and headed straight for my dining room cabinet. I unearthed the coffee cups that I had stashed away all these years, gave them a quick rinse with soap and water, and stuck them under my espresso machine. It is probably my imagination, but my coffee never tasted quite so good. 

 

Since then, I have made a resolution: I am going to use all my nice stuff instead of locking it away for fear of damaging it. I will carry my best handbags even if I am just going grocery shopping. I will wear my expensive scarfs for a walk in the park. I will air my jewelry every single day instead of reserving it for special occasions.

 

And yes, I will drink coffee out of those 24-carat gold-embellished cups every single day.