To binge or not to binge

That is the question, as streaming services make it all too easy to devour entire series in the course of an evening

I must admit that I am a little bleary-eyed as I sit down to write this column. And that’s because the second season of Sacred Games dropped on Netflix at midnight and I stayed up late – as you do – to binge-watch. All I managed were three episodes, though, before sleep got the better of me. But I am pretty sure that if the season had been released in the afternoon, I would have swallowed all of it down in one greedy gulp.

But as I resolutely turned the TV off and sloped off to bed, I couldn’t help but wonder if this kind of binge-watching was the best way to see a show. Would it be better, I pondered, if TV series like these dropped one episode at a time and allowed us all a little time to absorb events and plot twists. Watching it in one go, I was a bit overwhelmed by all the turns in the story, and felt, on occasion, that the narrative was getting away from me.

One reason why these thoughts popped up in my head last night was because I had just caught the first episode of the second season of Succession, and had enjoyed it thoroughly. It left me craving for more, given that only one episode drops every week. But that interval also gave me enough breathing space to think about the story so far, to speculate about what could or would come next, and to discuss the episode threadbare with my friends and family.

Much the same thing had been true of Big Little Lies. That show, too, was not available to binge-watch unless you waited for a month and a half for all the episodes to be released. And in retrospect, I think the series benefitted from this kind of drip-drip-drip release. For one thing, most of us saw the episodes at much the same time, so we could have a kind of cooler-talk conversation about it for days on end on social media. We could marvel at the sinister edge Meryl Streep brought to her role as a bereaved mother. We could discuss whether Laura Dern’s unhinged portrayal cut too close to the bone or was just madly over the top. And we could all admire the steely presence of Nicole Kidman who was the perfect counterfoil to Streep.

The week’s gap gave us enough time to think about the show as we waited impatiently for the next episode to drop. That sense of delayed gratification meant that we enjoyed the next installment even more than we would have if we’d been speeding through the episodes late into the night. And the show itself benefitted by having its shelf life increased to the six to eight weeks that people spent watching it – unlike binge-watched shows that can only hold the public imagination for a week or so at best.

I know what you’re thinking. There is no law that says that you have to binge-watch a show just because it is released in its entirety on streaming services. Nobody is holding a gun to your head and insisting that you watch every episode of Made in Heaven the very same evening it appears on your TV screen.

But honestly, how can you possibly resist? Especially when a show is as compelling as Made in Heaven, with the narrative propelling you forward from one episode to another almost as if you had no free will in the matter? I certainly didn’t. I kept promising myself that this would be the absolute last episode I watched that night. But when the cliffhanger presented itself and a little box on my screen started uploading the next episode, I found myself powerless to power off the TV. I ended up going at bed at 4 am, but if you ask me, it was totally worth it.

Perhaps this is the time to confess that I have form in this matter. Even before streaming services made zombies out of all of us, I was a greedy devourer of box-sets. It was 24 that started me off, with its conceit of all the action taking place in real time. As Jack Bauer tried to save the world (okay, America) one torture-session at a time, I watched in horrified fascination until the sun came up in the morning. More recently, the crazy antics of Carrie Mathison in Homeland kept me up all night as well. And it isn’t just action series or spy thrillers – that are geared to keep us on the edge of our seats – that have this effect on me. I was similarly transfixed by the two seasons of The Marvellous Mrs Maisel.

But while shows like Fleabag (both seasons of which I binge-watched shamelessly) are perfect for being consumed in one giant bite, given their linear form, clear narrative arc and economical style of story-telling, others with a more sprawling structure benefit from deferred viewing. And after last night, I think the second season of Sacred Games could fall into that category. This is a show that needs space to breathe, and when we watch it, so do we.

So, from now on, it’s only one episode a night for me. But you go right ahead and binge if you want to. I will see you on the other side.

Table for one

Eating out alone has its pleasures – but it’s not the only activity you can enjoy on your own

I’ve lost count of the number of people who look at my pityingly when I say that I often head out to lunch – and sometimes even dinner (shock! horror!) alone. Don’t you have any friends, you sad little loser, their eyes seem to say. Does your husband not love you enough to have a meal with you? Why can’t you manage to rustle up even one lunch companion from among the dozens of people you know? 

Of course, they don’t say any of this aloud. Instead their ‘concern’ is expressed in any one of the following ways. Don’t I feel embarrassed and exposed eating a meal on my own? How can it be any fun going out to eat without having someone to share the experience with you? Don’t you miss having someone to talk to you while you are eating? And so on and on and on.

Well, the truth is while I enjoy eating out with my husband (and do so all the time) and have great fun doing my ‘ladies who lunch’ thing with my girlfriends, I also really, really enjoy taking myself out for a meal ever so often. Sometimes, I take along a book that I am currently immersed in, and bury my nose in it as I make my way through starter, main course and coffee. Sometimes I spend my time surfing on the Internet. And then, there are times when I don’t put any barriers between me and the world and simply indulge in one of my favourite pastimes: people-watching.

In fact, I love people-watching while eating so much that I even have my own phrase for it. I call it ‘catching the cabaret’, and as a speculative exercise there is no beating it. Is the teenage couple seated to the left of me breaking up or is it just another regular fight in a volatile relationship? That middle-aged couple seated next to the window? Are they eating in companionable silence because they have been married so long that they have nothing left to say to one another? That group of loud young men having a largely liquid lunch? How many of them will leave the table sober? And why is it that the decibel level of a kitty party group is always higher than that of any other?

But while eating out on my own is a fun thing to do, so too are a whole host of other activities.

Shopping, for one. Most of my friends enjoy going out shopping in a group so that they can have the benefit of other people’s opinions on the things they try one. And they have a point: you can’t really ask a shop attendant, “does my bum look big in this,” and expect an honest answer. But frankly, if you feel impelled to ask that question, then take it from me, your bum does look big in it. As far as I am concerned, my eye is the only one that matters when I go shopping.

I am also one of those people who find browsing in shops and window-shopping a complete waste of time. My modus operandi when I go shopping is to make a list of what I want, make a beeline for it, make my choice, pay up and head home. Spending hours looking at merchandise I am never going to buy – which is what inevitably happens while shopping with a group – is my idea of hell. So, solo shopping trips are what work best for me.

The same goes with exercise, whether it is a yoga or Pilates session or a walk in the park. With both yoga and Pilates I prefer to set my own pace, rather than try to slow down or speed up to keep up with a group of people. And when I am out for a walk, I like the idea of spending some time in contemplative silence or just listening to my own thoughts rather than chattering away with a friend or two.

I also find solitude restorative when I am in the kitchen so cooking, for me, is always a solo activity. After spending the whole day with people, there is something therapeutic about finding yourself alone in front of the stove at the end of the day. There is a certain meditative quality to mindlessly chopping vegetables, stirring a curry or a risotto, or even getting ingredients together to bung into the oven. Turn on some music, pour yourself a glass of wine, and suddenly cooking seems like fun rather than just another chore to get through.

The one thing I haven’t tried my hand at yet is watching a movie alone, though those who do so swear by it. There is no distracting chat from those accompanying you, and nobody steals your popcorn after refusing to order their own. But somehow I don’t think this would work for me. For one thing, a cinema hall is always full of people, even if you have ventured out alone. And for another, these people are always doing annoying things like taking phone calls, or texting or even chatting to one another. So watching a movie in a hall can never truly be a solitary activity.

Which perhaps explains why I have become such a fan of streaming services like Netflix and Amazon Prime Video, which give you the movie experience in the privacy of your home and the comfort of your sofa, where you can binge away to your heart’s content. And where the popcorn is far, far cheaper.

  

Monsoon Survival Kit

Some handy tips to keep you frizz-free and stress-free this rainy season

Is it my imagination or do civic services seem to get worse every monsoon? The traffic snarls increase, the number of potholes proliferate, and the flooding – even when the volume of rain is not out of the ordinary – gets more apocalyptic with every passing year.

So, I wouldn’t blame you if you regard the onset of the rainy season with dread and trepidation, wondering what fresh hell will be unleashed this monsoon. I would, in fact, understand completely, and make sympathetic noises even as you moaned and groaned.

But what good would that do you? None at all!

Which is why I have decided to compile my own Monsoon Survival Kit to provide you practical tips and advice to get through this season with your feet dry, your hair frizz-free and your sanity intact.

·       Grant yourself rainy-day holidays: When the rain is coming down so hard that complete and utter traffic dislocation seems guaranteed, call in sick. If you think that won’t wash (pun alert!) then claim to be flooded in and ask if you can work from home. Then you can hunker down on your bed (or sofa) with a nice, steaming cup of tea, and work on your laptop with one eye on the amazing monsoon sky raging and raving outside your window. And when the rain finally comes down, you can take a little balcony break to feel the fresh spray of rainwater on your face. Bliss!

·        Better still, hold over some of your annual summer leave for the monsoon. Then when everyone else is dealing with traffic jams and car breakdowns, you could be walking the beach in Goa or Kerala, getting soaked to the bone as your feet squelch across the wet sand. And while swimming in the sea may be out of the question in this season, you can still enjoy its stormy beauty as you sit at a beachside shack, knocking back some fish fry with a beer or a vodka tonic. (If the beach seems too messy, then head for the mountains to feast your eyes on the mist, the fog, and yes, the rain, from your vantage point in the hills.)

·       If you do have to go to work, then work on making your commute fun. If you are driving, load some nice rain songs on your music system or pop in the earphones to listen to your latest audio book. If you are being driven, catch up on your reading, whether it is with an e-book reader, an actual book or the Kindle app on your phone. Phone a friend you haven’t spoken to in a long time. Check out your favourite feeds on Instagram. If you can fill this empty time by doing something you enjoy, something that makes you happy, even the interminable jams won’t seem intolerable.

·       There will be several days during this season that you will find yourself marooned at home. So make sure that you have everything you need to keep yourself entertained. Subscribe to Netflix, Amazon Prime or Hotstar, so that you can binge-watch the latest shows. Make sure the liquor cabinet is well-stocked. Keep lots of microwaveable popcorn handy, so that you can replicate the movie-watching experience at home. (Added bonus: at home, unlike at the cinema, you can pair this with a glass or two of wine!)

·       But while there is a lot to be said for chilling in the dry comfort of your home when the monsoon is raging outside, you will be missing out if you just stay indoors. So, when there is a break in the rain, head out for a walk in the neighborhood park. The rain will have had a cleansing effect on all the vegetation, the leaves will be sparkling, the flowers glistening, the grass greener than ever, and the world will seem like a happier, shinier place.

·       This is the season of bad-hair weeks (rather than days). The humidity will make you sweat gallons and you will feel like washing your hair every single day when you get back home. But don’t just stop at a shampoo, pamper your hair with a frizz-free conditioner. And to make sure your ends don’t curl up by the next morning, squeeze on some frizz-free mousse for good measure before you blow-dry it. (Alternatively, you could just embrace your curly-hair avatar. But while there is something to be said for philosophical acceptance, it still smacks of defeatism to me.)

·       Whether or not you have kids of your own, this is as good a time as any to relive your childhood. As a child, rains to me always meant heading straight for the terrace to get soaked to the skin. Then, it was time for a quick shower and settling down to some chai-pakora, served up by my long-suffering mother. Now that she is no longer around, I go through the ritual all on my own. But I can feel her presence even in her absence; and I feel like a six year old again. And I have the rains to thank for that.