Memories of holidays past...

That’s all we have to sustain us as we stay closeted at home this summer

This is usually the time I would be heading out to holiday with my husband, escaping the worst of the Delhi summer. But like all of you reading this column, we are currently homebound, with no prospects of venturing out further than the neighbourhood market for the foreseeable future.

Even if international flights were to resume this month or next, I can’t see myself donning full PPE gear to vacation at some scenic destination. Not that the rest of the world is holding out a welcome banner for us Indians – given that we currently rank third in the list of nations with most infections, we are, for all practical purposes, international pariahs. And the few countries that would take us in would insist on a 14-day quarantine, which is about the length of the average vacation.

Of course, there is always the possibility of vacationing somewhere within driving distance of our city. Agra and Jaipur come to mind but, honestly, who would want to drive a few hours to another equally hot destination, and become prisoners of their hotel rooms rather than their homes? You could drive to the hills but most states are asking for a fortnight’s home quarantine, which doesn’t exactly make for a memorable vacation.

So, it’s time to face up to some tough, incontrovertible facts. We aren’t going anywhere this summer. We have to stay home and make the best of it. And my way of doing that is to dwell in the memories of holidays past, so that I can satisfy my wanderlust in my mind, if nowhere else.

Here, in no particular order, are some of the holiday memories that have sustained me as I continue to isolate within my home.

Japan: This was the most magical vacation ever. The night we arrived in Tokyo was the day that the sakura – as the cherry blossom is known as in Japan – flowered. The next day, along with what seemed like the rest of the city, we headed for the central park to feast our eyes on this magnificent sight. The Japanese have a name for this activity; they call it hanami. And as we mingled with the locals amidst the blooming cherry blossom trees – which took in every shade from white to a deep pink – we truly felt part of the inner life of the city. In those transcendent moments, it was easy to forget that we were just tourists and come to believe that the city, and its beauty, belonged to us as well.

Spain: I know that everyone raves about the energy of Barcelona and that the stately beauty of Madrid has its fans as well. But while I love both these cities too, when I sit back and dream of Spain, it is Seville that comes into view. The shimmering gardens of the Alcazar and its magnificent buildings – familiar to Game of Thrones viewers as the Palace of Dorne – had an almost unreal beauty to them as we wandered through in a veritable daze. And it was from Seville that we drove a couple of hours to visit the legendary Alhambra, the castle built by the Moors, in Granada. We were so blown away by its magnificence that we ended up visiting it twice!

Italy: Rome has its antiquities and Milan is justly celebrated as the centre of Italian fashion and style. But is there a more stunning city in the entire world than Venice? I think not. I first visited it more than a decade ago, arriving in the dead of winter when there were no hordes of tourists cluttering up the streets and piazzas. And as I wandered the near-empty alleys gazing on the jewel-like buildings, wandered wide-eyed through the museums and explored the tiny canals that wound their way through sleepy neighbourhoods, I fell in love with this city. I have been back several times since, each time discovering a new facet of Venice which makes me adore it anew.

England: Every summer, London turns into India central, with everyone from Delhi to Mumbai to Ahmedabad and Nasik making their way to this city. For most affluent Indians, summer holidays mean London, even if they are just using as a take-off point to head elsewhere in Europe. Which is why I much prefer London later in the year when the temperatures drop a little and the tourist throngs thin out. That’s when I can make the most of its splendid parks, its superb museums, and its buzzy restaurant scene. Though I must confess that of late when I think of England, it’s not London that comes to mind first. It’s the English countryside in general, and Oxfordshire in particular, where I spent a blissful birthday in the sylvan surrounds of Soho Farmhouse.

Maldives: This one is an eternal favourite, and I have visited it almost every year for the past decade or so. And what I have discovered is that it doesn’t matter where you go in the Maldives, or which hotel you stay at. What makes this destination memorable is the amazing water that encompasses every shade of blue, the pristine white sand beaches, and the blazing sunshine that makes every corner of your resort brighter and more beautiful. There are no distractions as you would have in a city, so you have no choice but to relax, enjoy the view, and order up another cocktail. Bliss!

Blooming glory

The Japanese make such a fuss about their Sakura; why don't we do the same with our Chinar, Laburnum and Shiuli?

It has been on my bucket list for the longest time ever: visiting Japan during the Sakura season. It is trickier than it sounds. There is never any guarantee when the Sakura will bloom, though forecasters try their best to nail a period down. And once the Sakura does flower, the cherry blossoms have a very short life expectancy: a week if you are lucky. And the Sakura season itself lasts about a fortnight or so. So, unless you time your visit just right -- and have the luck of the Devil -- it is hard to be sure that you will catch the cherry blossoms at their finest.

Well, I am happy to report that even though I planned my trip last year, I was lucky enough to arrive in Tokyo and Kyoto at peak viewing time. And what a view it was! Sprawling trees of all shape and size overladen with blossoms that went all the way from pristine white to cherry pink, taking in every shade in between for good measure. The Sakura proliferated in the parks, it blossomed on every street corner, it lined the roads in its majestic glory, it even popped up along the rails of the bullet train from Tokyo to Kyoto and back. It was a sight that will live with me forever.

But what I found even more amazing was how Sakura viewing was a family activity for the Japanese. They even have a name for it: Hanami, which literally means 'flower watching'. And when you do your flower watching at night, it is called Yozakura, which literally translates as 'night Sakura'.

So, as the trees in all the parks in Tokyo and Kyoto bloom, entire families set out with a picnic basket to spend the day under the shade of the cherry blossoms. They lay down their plastic sheets on the green, and settle down to eat, drink and yes (this is Japan after all), use those ubiquitous selfie sticks to take selfies against the backdrop of the blooming Sakura. Not that I can afford to act all superior; I was doing just that as well (though without the obligatory selfie stick).

But as I clicked what turned out to be hundreds of pictures of the cherry blossoms, I couldn't help but wonder why we in India don't celebrate our seasonal marvels with quite the same passion, panache and elegance. It's not as if we don't have the same kind of natural beauty that flashes forth for brief periods to dazzle us before disappearing all too soon. And while we do appreciate it as we go about our everyday life, we don't treat these interludes like an 'event' to be savoured and enjoyed.

Take Kashmir's Chinar, for instance, which changes color to a spectacular russet and then a brilliant crimson in the autumn. The spectacle lasts only for a few weeks before the tree sheds its leaves and shuts down for the winter. This should be as special for us as the Sakura is for the Japanese. And yet, we don't see people from the rest of India descending on Kashmir to view this superb sight. Indeed, it barely registers with most of us, as we wait for the snowfall to descend so that we can plan a winter vacation.

Closer home, in Delhi, the roads and parks come alive in spring with the yellow gleam of the Laburnum (you may also know this as Amaltas) and the bright red of the Semal tree. The flowering period lasts only a few weeks but while it is on it turns the city into a vision of natural beauty. But we hardly spare the blooms a glance before going on about our day. At the most, we click a couple of pictures to upload on social media, but there is none of the overwhelming wonder that the Japanese experience with Sakura.

Sad, isn't it? Wouldn't it be wonderful if we too could engage in a spot of Hanami, taking our kids, our parents, our friends for a day out in the park, to just sit in the shade of a Laburnum or Semal tree and take in their beauty? If we could just lay down a blanket on the grass and bring out a picnic basket, and spend the day marveling at the beauty of nature? (Of course, it would be even better if we could emulate the Japanese in yet another way: in clearing up and carrying back our own garbage, leaving the area as pristine as ever.)

Growing up in Calcutta, I was as excited as the next child about the advent of Puja. But in all that excitement about shopping for new clothes and making plans for pandal-hopping, none of us paid much attention to the flowering Shiuli (it is called Harshringar in north India) which heralds the arrival of the Goddess every year.

The white blooms with a peach/pink centre carpet the floor every morning, spreading their sweet scent through the neighborhood. And then even before you had fully registered their beauty, the Shiuli flowers would vanish, reappearing only the following year as Durga Puja drew near.

The flowering of the Shiuli should have been as special to Bengalis as the flowering of the Sakura is to the Japanese. But I have zero memories of anyone making an almighty fuss about it. Everyone just took its beauty for granted and went on with the festivities. And I can't help but think that we missed a trick there.

Well, the spring is almost gone but how about this Puja, we have a special week of just celebrating the Shiuli in all its colorful and fragrant glory as a precursor to the main festivities. I am pretty sure that Ma Durga would approve.