Satheesh Vellinezhi
| Photo Credit: Satheesh Vellinezhi
It was Aarti Shastri, who, before she transitioned to Agastya Shastri, wrote in her epic work The Monsoon of Hindustan that a family holiday is the ultimate test of love, tolerance, and friendship. Having just returned from a family holiday, I realise that Aarti, sorry Agastya is India’s greatest writer since just after Kalidas, and just before Chetan Bhagat. But why tell you? Most of you are part of families. You know the pressure, anxiety, the occasional glance at other happier families at airports, wishing you were with them.
The first challenge for the Broacha family was the Mumbai Airport, which I like to call the Mumbai scareport. However, first let’s meet the main actors in this theatre of the not too absurd. First, there’s my wife Ayesha, who we call Major General, (and not in an affectionate way). She’s the person that all families have. The one most of us dread. The enthusiastic one. Tell me, in the modern world, what can be more tedious then being around an enthusiastic individual? They can be a real obstacle to others, as they use every second of the holiday seeing things and doing things. We have to constantly remind her that we are not Hannibal crossing the Alps, we’re just mundane desi travellers going to Bali, slowly. Very slowly.
Speaking of slowly, there is a second character — Shree Kunal Vijayakar. The slowest member of our entourage. To understand his walking style, you’ll have to imagine a group of three adult humans, and a small immobile crab. Ayesha’s speed, and Shree Vijayakar’s lack of the same means we’re always going forward and backward at the same time. Oh, and whoever said just like our economy, er…. please calm down. Why is Shree Vijayakar on a Broacha family Holiday? The answer is nobody knows. But just like a good old government job, if you don’t know what you are doing, you can do it successfully forever. Whatever it is, he’s always there, like Orry in an Ambani wedding video.
The third character is my 17 years old daughter Maya. Now, which 17-year-old wants to be stuck with three aging adults for more than four minutes? As for me, I have one and only one function on these holidays. Not to have fun, not to chill out, not to enjoy R&R, no I’m there for the singularly noble act of paying the bills. Of course, as if nothing else, I’m known for my generosity, so I’m very happy getting Shree Vijayakar to share in this act of bill payment.
Sadly, as it often happens, every time I sit down to write this column, I start running out of column space, before I reach my main point, my actual plot, my real body of work. We have two choices then, dear reader, wait for a part two, or abandon the main point and end with a quote mistakenly credited to Winston Churchill. I’ll take a show of hands. Thank you, the verdict is clear, nobody wants to see Winston Churchill misquoted. Thereby, using the scientific method of the process of elimination, I am forced to get back to you with a second part, of the Bali Diaries. Till then, as we say in Balineese… ‘Too much traffic’.
The writer has dedicated his life to communism. Though only on weekends.
