Get off that treadmill!

And go for a walk in the park - you are on holiday!

 Does anyone in their right mind spend time on a treadmill while on holiday at one of the best hotels in the world? That thought popped into my mind as I walked past the gym at the Four Seasons in Koh Samui (and yes, before you ask, that’s exactly where the forthcoming season of  White Lotus was shot). Why would you waste your time pounding away indoors — no matter how great the view — when you could just as easily be walking on the beach or hiking up the verdant hills that dot the resort? Surely combining aerobic activity with some sightseeing is the way to go while on holiday? 

Well, that’s how I feel anyway. Nothing would induce me to work out indoors when I could be totting up my 10,000 steps a day by doing something interesting outside. One of my top five things to do while on holiday is to take a turn around neighbourhood parks to get a sense of local life (my favourites so far are St James’ Park in London; Il Retiro in Madrid; Central Park in New York; and Lumpini in Bangkok). I try and walk around new cities as much as I can. On inclement days, traipsing around a museum makes the most sense (the National Portrait Gallery in London is a particular haunt of mine), especially when they have a snug little cafe attached to it. And if you are in the middle of the countryside, there is nothing quite as invigorating as a hike uphill to see some interesting vistas. 

When I am on holiday, there is just a small set of activities that are acceptable to me. I don’t, for instance, mind joining a cooking class if it means getting an insight into the cuisine of the host country. This doesn’t always work of course. I once signed up for an afternoon’s class on Sri Lankan cuisine — only to be taught how to make (wait for this!) a dal. But it does work on occasion — and that makes it worth the effort of slaving over a hot stove in the middle of your break. I also love the idea of a food walk, led by a knowledgeable local, which gives you the opportunity to savour the flavours of that region.

But, not to worry, it’s not just about the food (though that is a huge part of it!). I am not averse to doing a bit of yoga in the open air as long as guided meditation is not part of the deal (sitting around with eyes closed, trying to still my mind, is not my idea of holiday fun!). And I can while away entire afternoons by the hotel poolside, kidding myself that I am exercising, even as I waddle lazily from one side of the pool to the other. 

I guess everyone has their acceptable level of activity while on holiday. Some may prefer to spend the entire day lazing in the sun, reading a book while sipping on a cocktail. Some others may find satisfaction in heading for a hike in the evening, armed with bottle of water. 

And then there are those who insist on beginning their day with a six-mile long walk on the treadmill in the hotel gym. It is this group that leaves me mystified. But then, they would be equally baffled by the likes of me!

Break Time

Taking a vacation amidst the Coronovirus pandemic? Here’s where you can go…

I don’t know about you but I must confess to being consumed with envy when I look at the Instagram posts of those of my friends who live abroad. Here’s one who is holidaying in Florence with his wife and adult children, traipsing through near-empty museums, and feasting on the most amazing Italian food. Okay, so they have to wear masks while out in public, but frankly that’s a small price to pay for being able to finally get out of home and explore the world beyond your own four walls.

There’s another group of friends, who live in London but are currently coasting along the Amalfi coast, enjoying the azure skies and the indigo waters. And then, there’s my friend who is a chef and runs restaurants in both India and abroad, who is wandering the length and breadth of the Ligurian coastline, trying out the local cuisine as she seeks inspiration for her new menus. (Yes, I see it too: it seems Italy is the destination of choice these days, even though it was one of the countries to be hit hardest by Coronavirus pandemic.)

I have no shame in admitting to travel envy. In fact, after five months (and counting) spent in my home, it seems an entirely reasonable reaction to me. But given that jetting off to my favourite Italian holiday spots (Venice is top of the list, though these days – after bingeing on the Godfather trilogy – I am dreaming of exploring Sicily as well) is out of the question, with the quarantine rules in both countries being what they are, I am setting my sights nearer home.

And when I say ‘nearer home’ I mean that quite literally. There is no way that I would risk getting on a plane right now, so any holiday destinations I consider have to be within driving distance. And I am guessing that that is the preferred choice of most other people as well. Some of my Mumbai friends, for instance, are heading off to their holiday homes in Alibaug, Khandala and Mahabaleshwar, to escape the incessant rain and flooding in the Maximum City, while the more adventurous are even planning to drive all the way down to Goa. All that verdant post-monsoon scenery will probably act as a balm on their bruised and battered souls.

Those of us who live in Delhi have a slightly more diverse group of destinations to choose from. If you want a resort just a short hop, skip and jump away from the city, you could drive to Manesar or Neemrana, to enjoy some stunning architecture, acres of manicured gardens, and perhaps a round or two of golf (that’s one sport where social distancing is no problem at all). Sadly, going to Agra – even though it’s just a little further afield – is more complicated for now because of the quarantine rules imposed by the Uttar Pradesh government.

But if you are willing to drive for another couple of hours, then Rajasthan is just the place for you. The obvious stops are, of course, Jaipur and Udaipur, with their beautiful palace hotels and other heritage properties, but there are plenty of smaller, scenic cities to visit as well. Yes, it will be hot and muggy, and you won’t really be able to hit the shopping districts without a mask in place. But if you choose your hotel well, you can enjoy a break away from home, swim laps in the pool, sip on a cocktail, and enjoy the sinful pleasures of room service.

If the thought of the sweltering heat in Rajasthan is putting you off, well then, the hills are the right place for you. The good news is that if you have a Covid negative test (which you have to upload on the government site before you head out) then you don’t have to quarantine in such states as Uttarakhand. So, you can drive down to any hill resort you choose, and enjoy the misty mountain air, go for bracing walks (or treks, if that is your thing) and enjoy some Pahari food chased down by a nice glass of wine of a peg of smoky whiskey.

But if you do decide to head out for a holiday in the midst of this pandemic, then do keep a few rules in place for a safe vacation.

First off, if at all possible choose smaller properties that have fewer guests in house. That will ensure that your interaction with strangers is kept to a minimum. Before booking into a hotel or an Airbnb, get all the information that you can about their disinfection and cleaning policies. If you have the slightest doubt on that score, then look elsewhere. Make sure that the hotels you book into have adopted contactless service so that you don’t have face time with staff as far as possible.

And most importantly, just because you are on holiday, don’t skip on the usual precautions to keep safe in the times of Corona. Keep your mask on in public areas, keep washing your hands, and observe social distancing. Remember, this is a vacation from real life, not a departure from it. You may be on holiday, but the virus is still out, working hard at trying to infect you.  

So while you can slip your mask off when you’re relaxing by the poolside, always remember to keep your guard up.

Take a break

But not you, though. You're a politician!

Poor old Rahul Gandhi. The chap simply can't catch a break. Actually, scratch that. The man does take breaks. And entirely too many, judged by the sanctimonious chorus of protest that always breaks out whenever he heads abroad for some time off.

Initially, it was the secrecy and the lack of information that people (well, mostly hyperventilating media people) objected to. Why couldn't he just tell us where he was going, for how long, and what he intended to do while he was there? What did the man think? That he was entitled to privacy when it came to his private life? Honestly, was there no limit to his sense of entitlement? (No, don't answer that. The questions are purely hypothetical.)

Well -- perhaps as a reaction to all that criticism -- the Gandhi scion has become more forthcoming about his travel plans. He now tells us why he is travelling though there is still no information about his exact destination (apparently the secrecy is a precautionary measure because he forgoes SPG security when he is abroad). Now he is off to escort his mother back after her medical check up abroad. Now he is heading out to spend time with his 93 year old grandmother. Now it's time for a little light meditation and a spot of Vipassana.

You would think that the timely disclosures would help. And you would be quite wrong.

Even when Rahul tells us in advance when he is heading abroad and why, he gets little joy from his critics. Doesn't he know that the Assembly/municipal elections are on? Doesn't he realise that there is a farmer's agitation raging in Madhya Pradesh? And so on and so outraged.

Which brings me to my question of the week. Are politicians entitled to any time off? Can they take holidays like the rest of us to attend to family matters, recharge their batteries, or just chill? Do they have the right to a vacation without having the wrath of a self-righteous public descend on them?

Well, if you were to ask me, the answer to all of the above questions would be a resounding yes. But going by the outcry every time Rahul goes on vacation, I am clearly in a minority.

Not that it's Rahul alone who gets flak for indulging in too much downtime. Donald Trump famously attacked Barack Obama for spending too many days on the golf course when he was President. It is another matter that, in a delicious irony of fate, President Trump is now being ridiculed for playing too much golf (though on the bright side he can do relatively less damage when he is on the golf course as opposed to when he is hard at work at the Oval Office).

Over in the UK, David Cameron was routinely accused of 'chillaxing' when he headed for his summer/autumn/winter break when he was Prime Minister. What on earth was he doing on a beach in Cornwall/Ibiza/insert destination of choice when the world was going to hell in a hand basket? The poor chap even tried to deflect criticism by a) holidaying in the United Kingdom and b) flying budget airlines like Ryanair. But it was a lost cause. "Cameron away on vacation while the world burns" (I exaggerate, but only a little) remained a perennial headline that could be reliably pulled out and recycled every holiday season.

Clearly, no matter where in the world you are, nobody likes the sight of politicians heading out on a vacation. Where do they get off just taking off when the world is in the state it's in? There is a terrorism alert on; elections are coming up; the economy is in a mess; and here are our leaders just packing their bags and skipping off into the sunset with nary a care in the world. It beggars belief, doesn't it?

Those who maintain that politicians should forget about holidays and buckle down to work 24/7 all 365 days of the year often hold Narendra Modi up as an example. Ever since he became Prime Minister three years ago, Modi doesn't seem to have taken a single day off. Even his jaunts abroad are work trips rather than vacations, with the PM keeping up a punishing schedule that would put much younger men to shame.

But while we can all take pride in the fact that our Prime Minister is a superman, who thrives on a 18 hour day and doesn't need a holiday to recharge his batteries perhaps we can also accept that that is not necessarily true of lesser mortals. While the supermen of the world can go on and on and on (much like the Duracell bunny) the rest of us tend to flag at some point or another. That's when the cares of the world get too much to bear, when our everyday routine gets us down, and when we need a change of pace, of space, and of routine.

There comes a time when all of us need to get away from our quotidian lives so that we can come back reenergised, recharged and rejuvenated. We all need to step off the treadmill occasionally to catch our breath so that we are fresh and raring to go when we clamber right back on. We all need to take that break, to go off on vacation when it all gets a bit too much.

So why do we assume that politicians are any different? And why don't we cut them some slack when the holiday season comes rolling by once again?

School's out!

This summer break, grant your children the gift of boredom

I still remember the giddy joy I felt as I made my way home after the last day of school before the summer holidays began. True, there was a ton of ‘holiday homework’ weighing down my knapsack, but even that was not enough to dampen my spirits that soared sky-high as I contemplated the month-long break that lay ahead of me.

There were four – yes, count them, four! – whole delicious weeks in which I could do as I pleased. I could stay up late at night, reading my favourite mystery novels. I could get up when I pleased and have a leisurely breakfast. I could spend the entire afternoon getting up to no good at with my neighbourhood friends. I could visit the Botanical Gardens or the zoo (as you can probably tell, I grew up in Calcutta) and deepen my acquaintance with the natural world. I could station myself in my favourite lending library until I practically blended in with the furniture.

But most important of all, I would have all the time in the world to do nothing at all: to remain absolutely idle; to just sit around and daydream; to let my mind wander where it would; and yes, on occasion, get utterly and thoroughly bored.

Looking back now, I realize that that was the most precious gift of all: the opportunity to court boredom, and to learn to cope with it.

And learn to cope with it I did. Sometimes it was by inventing unlikely scenarios in which my future adult self would save the world. Sometimes it was by exploring deep in the recesses of my mother and sister’s wardrobes to play dress-up with their glamorous, grown-up clothes. Sometimes it was by badgering my grandmother or grandfather to play Ludo with me. And sometimes it was by press-ganging my father to watch the latest dance moves I had learnt from the last Hindi movie I saw (no, we didn’t call it Bollywood in those innocent days).

In retrospect, I must confess that boredom and learning to deal with it made me a better person. It helped me develop interpersonal skills (you have no idea what tough negotiators my grandparents were), which came in useful in later life. It helped me discover those inner resources lurking within me that would have remained buried forever if it hadn’t been for those dull-as-ditchwater afternoons. Boredom taught me both to spend time with myself (without always looking for external stimuli) even as it helped me build up my social skills.

So much so, that I often wonder if I would have, in fact, become a writer (of sorts) if it hadn’t been for those enforced periods of boredom in which I had only my imagination with which to entertain and regale myself. Somehow, I think not.

Which is why I am often troubled by the fact that the generations that came after me seem to be raising children who don’t quite know what to do with themselves when – and if – they are granted any downtime. Kids of today have become so used to being ferried from tennis lesson to maths tuition to dance classes, or even special ‘learning camps’ during the summer, that they seem to be at a complete loss when left to their own devices. Or, more accurately, when the devices (smartphones, tablets, game stations, and whatever else they are into these days) they rely on so completely are denied to them.

And, in my view at least, that is a terrible thing. The best way to help children develop their imagination or to create any sort of inner life is to leave them on their own for a bit, without a structured activity to participate in or an electronic scene to gaze into. It is imperative to allow them some breathing space so that they can hear themselves think. And more important, to leave a fallow field on which they can plant their own imaginary seeds, without any help from the significant adults in their lives.

There will be challenges. And yes, there will be pushback. And there will be times when your child – used to being overscheduled to within an inch of his/her life – comes crying to you with that eternal complaint of all kids: “I’m bored!”

And when that happens, I would suggest you respond the way my mother did all those decades ago. “Good,” she would say, with quiet triumph. “Now go and find something to do.”

And you know what? I did. And I was much better off for it.

So, this summer break, instead of booking some insanely overpriced camp, or organizing a series of outings for your kids, or even signing them up for endless classes, give them (and yourself) a break. And instead of endless, organized, enforced activity, grant your children the gift of boredom. They may complain for a day or two, but a couple of years – decades even – down the line, they will thank you for it.

I certainly do.

Let me count the ways...

 Of living by the maxim that life is too short

A couple of weeks ago, I had written about how I was reluctantly coming to the conclusion that life was too short to read bad books right to the finish. Ever since, I have been thinking about all the other things that I should excise from my life on those very grounds. After all, more than half of my life is over and it really doesn’t make sense to waste what’s left.

And it is in that spirit that I present the following list to you.

Life is too short…

• ·      To waste time on toxic people. You know the kind I am talking about, right? The ones who can never give you a compliment without making it sound like an insult. The ones who make you feel bad about your life choices. The ones who bitch about you behind your back. The ones who only remember you when they need something. Am sure there are many other categories that I am missing out on, but you get the general drift.
• ·      To look back with regret. Yes, we all mess up at one time or another. And yes, the natural human tendency is to relive all those moments, wishing that we could go back in time and do things differently. But for God’s sake, don’t. All those mistakes, all those screw-ups, all those bad choices are what went into making the person you are today. So, by all means indulge in a bit of nostalgia when the mood strikes but don’t beat yourself up over what is done and dusted. Remember what they say about crying over spilt milk? Just don’t.
• ·      To vacation in the same place twice. I know, I know, you just love that sleepy old beach in the Kerala. It doesn’t quite feel right unless you visit Shimla in the summer. And how can any visit to the West not involve a stopover in London? I know exactly how you feel, because that’s how I used to feel too. However much we tell ourselves that we want to get away from everything and experience something truly extraordinary, we also seek the familiar when we go on vacation. We stick to safe destinations that we know that the entire family will enjoy; we stay with the same hotel chains so that we know what to expect; we even eat the same kind of food. It took me some effort to snap out of this mind-set; but it was well worth it. Don’t believe me? Try it for yourself.
• ·      To drink bad wine. Now, before you all rush to your keyboards to send me irate emails about how pretentious and pompous wine snobs are, allow me to explain. ‘Bad’ wine is not the same as ‘cheap’ wine. Most expensive wines are good but not all inexpensive wines are rubbish. And the only way to find out is to drink the damn thing. But once you’ve drunk the good stuff, it makes no sense to go back to the bad. Have a beer instead, a vodka tonic, or even a Diet Coke. But bad wine, never.
• ·      To waste endless hours on the Internet. Facebook. Twitter. Tumblr. Pinterest. Instagram. Diggit. Reddit. Stumbleupon.There are as many ways of wasting time on the net as there are hours in the day. For my part, I am trying to wean myself off the habit of trawling trashy news sites with their ‘sidebar of shame’ featuring women in various states of undress (‘Cellulite!’ ‘Muffin top!’ ‘Wobbly bits!’ ‘Cellulite!’), even as I restrict myself to a tweet or two every day. It is, I admit readily, a work in progress, but I live in hope (and off-line, for the most part).
• ·      To meddle with molecular gastronomy. If I had a rupee for when anyone told me about how food is the new porn, I would be a rich woman. But I digress. Of all the new-fangled food trends, the one I find most annoying is the one called molecular gastronomy. This is something that should strictly be left to the experts like Ferran Adria, Heston Blumenthal and Gaggan Anand. It does the ‘movement’ no favours when talentless chefs run amok with liquid nitrogen and a chemistry set. Well, they can certainly insist on cooking it, but I sure as hell ain’t eating it.
• ·      To be a gym bunny. There is nothing more tedious than impersonating a hamster on a wheel as you walk on inexorably on a treadmill, quite literally going nowhere. Ditto, the cross-trainer, the exercise bike, the rowing machine or any other infernal device designed to torture our body into submission. Far more interesting to go for a walk in the park, watch the world going by, eavesdrop on fleeting conversations, play ball with your kids, gambol around with the dog, or cool off with an dip in the pool. If that seems too low impact for you dedicated exercisers, then play a game of tennis or badminton, anything that gets your heart-rate going. But running on a conveyer belt while staring sadly at a TV screen? Never.