Pandemic praise

Now that life has returned to normal, here are some things I miss about Covid lockdowns

 

I suppose it was bound to happen. After many months of celebrating the end of Covid lockdowns and rejoicing in the fact that life was returning to normal, I suddenly find myself in the decidedly odd position of missing the pandemic. 

 

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to go back to the bad old days, when we were all locked in our houses and had to wear N95 masks even to open the door for deliveries. And, like so many others, I suffered personal bereavements at this time, the sorrow of which still lingers. But strangely, there are moments when I find myself thinking back to the pandemic with nostalgia rather than dread.

 

What can you possibly miss about those dark days of Covid lockdowns, I hear you ask, in tones of utter incredulity. Well, here are just some things I miss, in no particular order

 

·       What I loved best about the days of the pandemic was how my world shrank down to my core group. All those casual acquaintances, distant family members, professional contacts, all fell victim to social distancing. And what I was left with was the people I truly cared about: my immediate family, my best friends, my closest neighbours. It made me realise that we don’t really need the vast social circle we build around ourselves. All that matters is the handful of people who make your world complete. Everything else is extraneous – and that is a truly liberating feeling.

 

·       The thing I treasured most about this period, when we were all locked up in our homes, was that I had almost unlimited time to myself, where I could do exactly what I wanted without the thousand other distractions that are usually a part of life. This is what allowed me to concentrate on the writing of my novel, Madam Prime Minister (a sequel to my first political thriller, Race Course Road), ensuring that I finished it in record time. Now that I am struggling to finish the spy novel that I am currently working on, I find myself longing for those Covid lockdown days, when it was so much easier to concentrate on my writing.

 

·       Going for walks in my favourite parks when the lockdown became less severe was, without fail, the highlight of my day. There were very few people around because not many folks were venturing outdoors. So, I had vast, vacant spaces to myself for the most part, and I could enjoy the spring flowers and the summer blooms in splendid solitude. Now that the parks are overflowing with picknickers, those Covid-tinged days seem like a dream that ended too soon.

 

·       It was during the pandemic that I rediscovered the romance of the road trip and discovered the charms of places closer to home. Not only was it a relief not to have to brave airport security and long flights to go on holiday, but I also found that road trips brought me closer to the country that I was driving through, giving my experiences an immediacy that air travel sorely lacked.

 

·       But the absolute best bit about the pandemic days was the air that we got to breathe in Delhi. Thanks to the lack of construction work, and absence of vehicular traffic, the pollution virtually vanished. Every day was a blue-sky day and the air quality varied between good and moderate.

 

So yes, the pandemic brought with it death and desolation. But it came with some blessings as well – which can perhaps only be appreciated in retrospect. 

 

Pandemic praise

Now that life has returned to normal, here are some things I miss about Covid lockdowns

 

I suppose it was bound to happen. After many months of celebrating the end of Covid lockdowns and rejoicing in the fact that life was returning to normal, I suddenly find myself in the decidedly odd position of missing the pandemic. 

 

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to go back to the bad old days, when we were all locked in our houses and had to wear N95 masks even to open the door for deliveries. Perish the thought! But increasingly, there are moments when I find myself thinking back to the pandemic with nostalgia rather than dread.

 

What can you possibly miss about those dark days of Covid lockdowns, I hear you ask, in tones of utter incredulity. Well, here are just some things I miss, in no particular order

 

·       What I loved best about the days of the pandemic was how my world shrank down to my core group. All those casual acquaintances, distant family members, professional contacts, all fell victim to social distancing. And what I was left with was the people I truly cared about: my immediate family, my best friends, my closest neighbours. It made me realise that we don’t really need the vast social circle we build around ourselves. All that matters is the handful of people who make your world complete. Everything else is extraneous – and that is a truly liberating feeling.

·       The thing I treasured most about this period, when we were all locked up in our homes, was that I had almost unlimited time to myself, where I could do exactly what I wanted without the thousand other distractions that are usually a part of life. This is what allowed me to concentrate on the writing of my novel, Madam Prime Minister (a sequel to my first political thriller, Race Course Road), ensuring that I finished it in record time. Now that I am struggling to finish the spy novel that I am currently working on, I find myself longing for those Covid lockdown days, when it was so much easier to concentrate on my writing.

·       Going for walks in my favourite parks when the lockdown became less severe was, without fail, the highlight of my day. There were very few people around because not many folks were venturing outdoors. So, I had vast, vacant spaces to myself for the most part, and I could enjoy the spring flowers and the summer blooms in splendid solitude. Now that the parks are overflowing with picknickers, those Covid-tinged days seem like a dream that ended too soon.

·       It was during the pandemic that I rediscovered the romance of the road trip and discovered the charms of places closer to home. Not only was it a relief not to have to brave airport security and long flights to go on holiday, but I also found that road trips brought me closer to the country that I was driving through, giving my experiences an immediacy that air travel sorely lacked.

·       But the absolute best bit about the pandemic days was the air that we got to breathe in Delhi. Thanks to the lack of construction work, and absence of vehicular traffic, the pollution virtually vanished. Every day was a blue-sky day and the air quality varied between good and moderate. Bliss!

 

So yes, the pandemic came with some blessings as well – though we may have been blind to them at the time.

The long and winding road

This summer, rediscover the romance of the road trip

 

It was the lockdown that first made me appreciate the romance of road trips. When flights shut down, my husband and I fell back on taking little mini-breaks to destinations that were within easy driving distance of Delhi. So, we ventured forth to Agra, Alwar, Jaipur and sundry other destinations in Rajasthan. Once flights began operating, we went a little further, taking flights to Chandigarh and Dehradun and then driving up to various mountain resorts to escape from the heat of the plains.

 

But once the skies opened up, it was back to doing the Delhi-Mumbai, Delhi-Kolkata or even Delhi-Bangalore routes. So, it was a bit of a revelation when we set off again on a road trip last month, driving from our home in Delhi to attend the Jaipur Literary Festival. In the intervening time I had quite forgotten how amazing it is to travel by road rather than plane. But this trip brought it all back.

 

So, what is so wonderful about road trips? Well, here in no particular order of importance, are just some elements that make it an absolute pleasure.

 

·       Packing is a breeze when you are just piling things in the boot of your car. There is no worrying about staying within the luggage limits set by the airline. You can pack your liquids anywhere you like. Can’t decide between two pairs of shoes or two handbags? Bung them all in. You can make up your mind when you get dressed at your destination. What’s not to like?

 

·       The part I hate most about air travel is going through security. First you queue for half an hour in close proximity with people who think masks are chin guards. Then it’s time to take off your jacket; remove your shoes and belt; take your laptop out of the case; put your phones in the tray. And even after all that, your bag will still be put through the X-ray once again because you neglected to take out your house keys or your spectacles. Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that if you are heading out on the road in your car; and that alone makes it worth it.

 

·       Best of all is the flexibility that road trips allow. You can set out at any time you like. If you are a morning person you can get up at the crack of dawn and power through to your destination before traffic hits its peak. If you are a late riser, you can have nice leisurely breakfast and then set out with a packed lunch that you can eat on the road. Or alternatively, you can plan your journey such that you hit your favourite dhaba at a time when you’re feeling the most peckish. You can drive through in one concerted spurt if you so wish. Or you can take frequent breaks to stretch your legs, enjoy a particularly scenic spot, or use the facilities at a motel or restaurant along the way. 

 

·       If you are travelling with your spouse or family, this is probably the biggest chunk of uninterrupted time you will get together. Use it to have meaningful conversations that you have postponed because of lack of time. Or spend it playing silly games like I Spy with your children. Or put together a playlist for your trip and sing along as your favourite music powers you on. Or simply use this time to decompress from the stresses of your everyday life by gazing idly out of the window. This is your time to use as you see fit.

 

·       But more than anything else, a road trip spells ‘Adventure’. The possibilities are endless when you set out on the road. You can discover a brilliant new ‘Maggi stop’ as you wind your way up the hills. You can stop by a small stall on the roadside and stumble upon the best achar you have ever tasted. You can suddenly come upon a valley of flowers that looks like Monet painted it on a good day. You can find yourself in the midst of mustard fields that demand that you run through them a la Dilwale Dulhaniye Le Jayenge. When you are on the road, life is yours for the taking. Just seize the moment.

 

Head out on the highway...

The romance of the road trip is alive and kicking

Yes, I know that everyone who has seen Piku has been giggling about the constipation trope and raving about how wonderful the cast was: Amitabh Bachchan playing the hypochondriac crochety old father to perfection; Deepika Padukone bringing the bad-tempered but essentially tender-hearted and devoted daughter alive on screen; with Irfan Khan bringing up the rear with his customary understated brilliance.

But for me, the most memorable part of the movie was the road trip. As all the lead characters piled into a car, their luggage strapped above (with Bachchan’s ‘toilet chair’ taking pride of place on top), and drove down Grand Trunk Road to make their way from Delhi to Calcutta, the scenes took me right back to my own childhood. Come the summer, and the Goswamis would set off to visit extended family in Agra and Delhi. And that’s exactly the route our two-car convoy always took.

Of course, we had a rather more leisurely approach to the whole road trip thing. We would stop by for lunch at a scenic spot, walking along verdant fields to stretch legs that were getting cramped sitting for long hours in the back seat of an Ambassador. We would halt for evening tea at shacks that sold the most amazing samosas, pakoras, or any other deep-fried delight. Night stays were meticulously planned at the bigger cities along the route so that we could spend the night in a comfortable room, and use a somewhat clean loo before setting out again.

In a way, the journey was almost as important as the destination. I would spend days agonizing on which books to pack, stock up on my Amar Chitra Katha comics, and take a pocket transistor along for the times when it would be too dark to read. But as it turned out, boredom was the last thing I should have feared. Head pillowed on my favourite cushion, I would spend hours just gazing out of the window as the world rushed by in a pleasant whirl of colours, sights, sounds and smells, taking in every detail until it felt that my head would explode with sensory overload.

If we were stuck in traffic we played silly games to while away the time. If nobody had the patience to play with me – and all too often they didn’t – as the youngest in the family I had infinite inner resources to cope with it. I would retreat into my private dream world, spinning tales of castles and princesses and fairies in my own head to entertain myself, inventing tales of derring-do in which I was invariably the heroine who saved the day.

Of course, there were times when tempers frayed, arguments broke out, sharp words were exchanged. Everyone took turns to sulk, to throw the odd tantrum, or even to have a complete meltdown (this was the height of summer after all, and things had a way of getting heated up very fast).

But nobody ever uttered those fateful words: “Are we there yet?” Because we all knew, without anyone saying so expressly, that we were, in fact, already there. The holiday had begun the moment we accelerated down the driveway, where it went from there was only a technicality. And often, after the romance of the road trip – with its unexpected encounters, the occasional breakdown, not to mention family sing-alongs – the actual ‘holiday’ itself felt rather tame and uneventful by comparison.

It makes sense then, that a road trip is often seen as a metaphor for our journey through life itself. We start off as relative innocents, being tutored in life lessons by all that we encounter along the way. And we finish the trip infinitely wiser than when we started out. Perhaps that is why so many coming-of-age movies rely on the road trip as a plot device, a journey in which the central characters confront some central facts of life, and grow up in the process.

Zoya Akhtar, for instance, has made the road trip a sort of leitmotif of her work. In Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, three male friends head out on a road trip, driving through Spain, and rediscovering each other and their friendship. In her new release, Dil Dhadakne Do, a cruise along the Mediterranean takes the place of the road trip. The Mehras from Delhi go on a cruise with family and friends to celebrate their 30^th anniversary, but end up re-examining their lives – and life choices – instead.

I have to admit that none of the road trips I’ve taken have been half as eventful. But nonetheless, I have no hesitation in recommending that you hit the road with your loved ones the next time you have some time off. There’s nothing quite like being stuck in close quarters in a car to stimulate discussion or even spark off meaningful conversations. And there’s nothing like talking to one another to bring a family (and friends) closer together.

Just be sure to lay down one ground rule. No smartphone usage allowed, unless it is to take a picture of a particularly beautiful vista (or a spectacularly silly selfie). No Facebook, no Twitter, no Instagram, no Pinterest; just interest in what the other person is saying or feeling. Remember, it’s only when you take the media out of social media that you can truly be social.