I like to stay at home. There is nothing new in this as I keep shouting about it from my rooftop.
I do not like to venture out of town and go travelling or doing touristy stuff.
My idea of a holiday is –
- to wake up early, maximum by 6 am,
- do nothing for the next 2 hours or maybe meditating or reading,
- cook a hearty breakfast and a perfect cup of tea, 2 hours later, and
- to devour the tea and breakfast in absolute silence and solitude.
The rest of the 2 members are at their best supportive and co-operative attitude at this time of the day to let me get soaked in my solitude. It is not by design or intention but a coefficient of coincidence. They happen to be night owls.
Enough of praise for them since the way my birthday was celebrated (or not) is still etched in my memory.
After the breakfast, I like to go on a walk to one of the many parks in the small city, where I live. My favourite parks are those which have a water body in the form of a pool, big or small, or a river flowing along the periphery. Sitting on a bench overlooking the water body, internalising the tranquility of the time and space for a long time and heading over to the park cafe to have a coffee and a sandwich before heading back home is my idea of a perfect holiday.
I have been upto this twice a week these days, thanks to the summer vacation, minus the coffee and sandwich plus Dhruv in tow minus the tranquility and plus the need to keep moving. Yet, we are having a good time.
Any plan for a holiday other than this leaves me exhausted even at the planning stage. Howsoever middle-class am I, the middle-class way of holidaying – having another hardcore middle-class being for company, rushing from one place to other in order to cover the maximum number of tourist spots to arrive at the optimum utilisation of money spent on accommodation for that day in combination with the never-ending talks, search and run for the Indian food even at places where it is not easily available – does not satisfy my soul’s quench leaving it squeezed and stretched at the same time.
I bet reading the above lines was a bit taxing, wasn’t it? Now, just imagine the practicality of going through it.
And, I have not yet detailed what it means to prepare for a trip as a mother because then everything becomes ‘M+1’.