Midlife Euphoria Day 33

Refreshing Interlude

We all enjoy holidays, visiting friends and family, taking time out to spend some days with children and so forth. Primarily, a digression from “normal” adds a lot of spice to our lives. But very often, we come back from an expedition feeling exhausted—especially if it is a sightseeing excursion, a walking tour or an animated trip involving hiking, skiing or cycling. Even if it is a celebration like a wedding, anniversary or just a lot of formal get-togethers, one is worn out in a couple of days.                          

The journey, be it on the road or a plane, always seems more excruciating when you go back than when you were venturing out. On return, the thought of a pile of clothes waiting to be washed, buying groceries, ensuring that there is milk, butter and bread in the refrigerator, resuming the help to start work and what not wears you out. In fact, restarting the old routine to “normal” takes a lot of effort. So, you wonder if the respite was really worth it.

While returning from our mountain abode back to our home in the plains, we were invited by our friends, CK Mahajan and his wife Savita, to spend some days with them at their ancestral house in their village Bhadwar. It is also located in the hills but at a lower altitude from Mashobra. We were a bit skeptical initially but gave in willingly due to their sincere bidding.

What followed was beyond belief. After an eight-hour road journey, we reached their charming property in the village. This place is in Kangra district in Himachal Pradesh, tucked away between two busy towns, Pathankot and the popular hill station Dharamshala. If not looking for it purposefully, one can easily miss this tiny hamlet which has a meagre population of some 690 odd people.

The property is situated within five acres of land, and the house was built circa 1910 in ancient style—with rooms all around and a large courtyard in the centre. There are countless numbers of rooms with gardens at the back where vegetables like cauliflower, carrot, cabbage, spinach and turnips grow. Further, there are fruit trees of apple, pear, sweet lime, lemon, guava, papaya and kiwi. At the back, there are outhouses which the caretakers use, and there is even provision for keeping cattle such as cows and buffaloes.

Since it is not used most of the year by the family, the house is a little rundown but one look at it and one could imagine its erstwhile splendour. For all practical purposes, it was very liveable with all the comforts of modern living—running hot/cold water, Wi-Fi, television, fireplace for heating and so on. The kitchen, though built in the old style, is now equipped with all necessities like an oven, griller, cooking gas, electric kettle; and has all the pots, pans, crockery and cutlery required for functioning.

We had driven to our hosts’ home along with them from Mashobra. On reaching, we were greeted by a very amiable staff. They had dusted and cleaned our rooms, and the beds were ready for our welcome. After a refreshing drink, we were served a lovely hot meal. After an afternoon siesta, we had tea in the veranda and explored the sprawling grounds of this amazing place. There were several rooms, most of which were not being used. In the good old days, these were continually occupied by family and friends.

CK Mahajan’s grandfather, Justice Mehr Chand Mahajan, was the third Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of India. Prior to that, he was the Prime Minister of the state of Jammu and Kashmir during the reign of Maharaja Hari Singh, and had played a key role in the accession of the state to India. He lived king size. This was his ancestral home where he continued to live like a king even after his retirement.

In the evening, we sat in the sitting room which looked enticing with a blaze of glowing wood in the fireplace. We were enveloped in the impending warmth around. This stately luxury matched the aura of the setting. Every now and then, a fresh log of wood was put in to carry on with the majestic ambience. One just wanted to sink deeper and deeper into the couches, not wanting to leave this milieu.

After the newness of the first day, we fell into a pattern. It was a routine without any agenda and completely at ease. It began with a leisurely breakfast in the sun and went on till noon with a break for tea and coffee. Thereafter, lunch would follow under the sun kissed porch. Since it was December, the warm sun was very welcome, especially after Mashobra’s bitter cold. After lunch, we would rest for an hour and venture out for a brisk walk in the village.

The Shivalik hills loom on one side of the village, remitting an ethereal feel. Subsequent to the walk and evening tea, we would plant ourselves in the sitting room in front of the blazing fire, enjoying the warmth of the room and our gracious hosts. We would watch television, chat, discuss politics and watch movies or popular soap operas. It may sound mundane, but it felt blissful to the core of our soul—no parties, no dolling up, no excursions, no schedule. I would knit, which I enjoy, and also made Savita indulge in my passion.

Coming back to our hosts. CK is a very caring person. His love for people is genuine, and he is always inviting people over to his house, starting with breakfast. Savita keeps up with his gregarious disposition. Her day starts with a walk in the morning, and then a couple of hours in the kitchen. She has very efficient staff but she puts in time in the morning cooking/baking/instructing and organising the day. She is a very accomplished person who has varied interests and doesn’t compromise on anything. She is known as the social queen of Mashobra. She and her husband are busy for all meals including breakfast. Either they are entertaining or being entertained. She makes it a point to ensure that anybody visiting Mashobra gets a hot meal or snack on arrival.

During the Covid times, she would send food to people’s homes when they arrived. Further, she is an intense bridge player. She would never miss a game in the afternoon, after which she would go for her customary walk in the evening. She is very conscientious about her husband’s nourishment, and ensures that he gets whatever he needs in time the way he likes it. She is a wonderful person with an excellent disposition, and is beautiful. How can one person have so many attributes? Her best quality is the way she organises her time. Never flustered, stressed or compromising on anything that she likes to do. To pack in so much in a day, day after day, and always with a smile on her face! How does she manage it? Hats off to her.                        

From a bohemian lifestyle of fancy eating, partying travelling abroad and entertaining lavishly they, slip into this rustic life naturally. They consume the local organic produce and make brief appearances at rural rituals like "dhams" where the entire village is invited. It is like being in an avant-garde naturopathic spa. The difference is that one is not paying through one’s nose. After a couple of months in this body and soul purification lacuna, knock on wood, they are glowing, healthy and spreading cheer for the rest of the year.    

There is enough to keep them constructively occupied. CK gets involved with the trust that his grandfather had started for the welfare of villagers, which involves education, health and general upliftment for the residents. There is always something to do around the humongous property, which keeps Savita busy. A drive on the meandering roads towards Dharmshala leads to water bodies formed by the river Beas that flows through the village. The greenery of the region’s natural flora is really rejuvenating and will be cherished by us forever.

One day, I made a pickle which my mom used to make. Till she was alive, I never ventured into territories which in my mind were her patent. Knitting is one of them. There was too much competition, and she was clearly the expert who had an edge. When you are younger, your confidence levels are low. There is fear of comparison; the notion of perfection kills the joy to strive. Also, you are scared to waste raw material if you fail. But when you get to our age, we are not bothered about any of the above. In fact, you even tweak recipes to your taste. We use less sugar than specified in desserts, less masala in the savouries and improvise if an ingredient is not available. This skill only comes with age and maturity. #midlifeuphoria. Knitting and making pickles….I was inadvertently turning into my mom.

Having said this, I remember I once baked a coco cake for my brother who has diabetes. In my endeavour to make a healthy cake, I didn’t put any sugar and garnished it with sugarless cream and chocolate flakes. It looked like a gourmet’s delight. But when my brother put it in his mouth, he almost choked. When I told him about my concern for his health, he had a hearty laugh which continued till he was almost rolling on the floor. I seriously thought he was having a heart attack. The cake tasted like sawdust. Nevertheless, we ate it with ice cream. So much for improvising.

I kept telling Savita that my time in Badhwar was very soothing to my nerves. It was almost a meditative experience, and extremely relaxing for my restless mind. I could not pinpoint the real perception till it dawned upon me one day. It was the same feeling that I would experience when I visited my parents after marriage. The sense of calm and nonchalance was similar. Minutes would diffuse into hours, and hours into days. I would simply drift with the flow. Sanjay also felt equally at ease just like when he would visit his parents. Our hosts are not that much older than us but their amenability had put us to ease—making our stay a very memorable one.

My take from this experience is that every holiday is not meant for “doing” things. You can make your guests comfortable only if you are not on pins and needles yourself. Your household can run smoothly on oiled wheels, if you organise and manage your time well. Lastly, the real test of a successful life is to have the ability to carry out arduous chores seamlessly while making them appear effortless. 

Midlife Euphoria Day 32

Covid Drama                                                                                                 

As soon as the lockdown was declared on 22^nd March, 2020, there was panic all over the country. The unknown quality of this mysterious virus, Covid-19, shook everyone. We were wearing gloves, masks and sanitizing our hands like maniacs. Every time we stepped outside the house for the mingiest of chores, we would rush back, tear our clothes off our body, throw them into a wash and bathe before touching anything in the house. We discontinued all the household help to come to the house in order to keep ourselves safe from the deadly virus. This madness continued for two months.

In the beginning, we took it as a challenge to clean, cook and wash without help. Then, it became routine. Soon, this bad dream would end and we’ll go back to our original lifestyle is what we kept saying to console ourselves. But the news on every channel predicted just the reverse. Every day, Covid victims were multiplying and it seemed to ruthlessly engulf all areas rapidly. It was spreading like wild fire with no mercy on sufferers. The media was reporting casualties and sufferings of people afflicted by this queer malady every day.

We had almost resigned ourselves to stay at home, do all our chores ourselves, not socialise or eat out for the entire year ahead. Thinking optimistically that post the pandemic we would become independent of the household help, learn to look inwards and find some wonderful dormant gifts within ourselves that would enlighten our life.

It may sound terrible but we are a generation that requires constant interpersonal relationships. We prefer to go to a bank and do our work—in the process meet the bank manager who offers us a cup of coffee, go for a walk, meet someone and chat our way for an hour. Time is what we have in ample—an hour of walking and a trip to the bank is half a day well spent before siesta time. A walk in the evening and a couple of hours spent with friends before bedtime is an ideal day spent—exhausting and fulfilling. No parties, weddings, walks, trips to the drycleaner, grocery store or bank! Life had come to a screeching halt.

Delhi-NCR is unbearably hot during the summers. April onwards is pretty intolerable and we were confined entirely to the house. Every year, we escape to the hills during the summer where we have a small abode. This year, the states had sealed their borders to avoid the spread of Covid. We were feeling trapped in our Gurgaon house. Finally, the government made provisions to travel interstate for which an e-pass was required. This was a ray of hope. However, there were a lot of ifs and buts, and a lot depended on the whims and fancies of the authorities to issue an e-pass. With great trepidation, we applied for one, and lo and behold, it was granted to us. We had to travel within two days of the pass being issued.

We lost no time and threw our bare necessities into a bag, jumped into our car and were off to the mountains. The bare necessities this time were of a different nature. Not knowing what the situation in the small rural hamlet of Mashobra would be, we loaded the car with milk powder, masalas, wheat flour, rice noodles, pasta, breads, vegetables, fruit, sugar, chocolates and every other conceivable item which we thought would not be available to us. The car was stuffed like a can of sardines and we were squeezed into our two seats. Still it was bearable, as we were coming out of a prison maybe to get locked into another one. But a definite advantage was the cool, pure air to breathe.   

After a ten-hour long journey in which we didn’t even stop for a cup of tea and our e-pass was checked a couple of times, we were advised 14 days of home quarantine on arrival to our mountain home. We were well stocked and used to the confinement in any case. The house was cleaned before our arrival, after which the staff said that they would not see us for two weeks. They were terrified of us as if we would inflict them even if we set eyes on them. Since the staff would not touch anything that had come in contact with us, I imagined how the untouchables must have felt in the bygone era.  

During the 14 days when no household help stepped into our house, we discovered a lot of stuff that we had not used in a long time and had no clue about. We got an opportunity to clear the mess and downsize some of the things that we could do away with. In the process, we stumbled upon some interesting things like a waffle maker, a coffee percolator, some cook-and-serve bowls and other interesting knick knacks. During the quarantine, we indulged in exotic culinary delights as I wanted to try these new gadgets. The confinement seemed charming after the monotony of the furnace-like internment of our Gurgaon house in the plains.

Fourteen days really flew and we were thankful to be in a good place away from the grime, dust, heat and pollution of the plains. We enjoyed the sunrise every morning, the chirping of the birds which was our morning alarm, the lovely blue sky throughout the day, the glorious sunsets which seemed new and different every day, and then the sparkling stars in the clear night sky. Before this time, I had rarely noticed the sunrise as I always contented that a sunrise is simply the reversal of a sunset—and was quite content watching the sun decent. Now, I know the difference.

After the 14-day confinement, our regular help took over. We had been consoling ourselves on how “Atmanirbhar” (independent) we had become without the household help. But once they were back in action, it was simply wonderful. Now, we had time to indulge in our favourite pursuits—simple things like reading, walking, knitting, playing online bridge, watching television—all the things we took for granted before the Covid scare seemed like hard-to-find luxuries. To have gratitude is a lesson we learnt during this difficult time.

Life in Mashobra was pretty normal, as there were no Covid cases for miles around us. The government had restricted the entry of tourists strictly, which gave us a feeling of security. A couple of us had managed to come before the e-pass became very difficult to acquire. The sense of freedom that one felt is indescribable. We could walk freely morning and evening as well as entertain and socialize in small groups outdoors.

Since our children are far beyond the age of school, I had not realized the trauma parents and children of school going ages were facing. Kids at home were bored, and becoming a nuisance for their parents. This was more so in underprivileged homes where parents were at a loss at keeping their kids suitably occupied. I spoke to the staff in our complex and asked them to send their kids to me for help in their school work. They were delighted. I was a bit apprehensive as to the kids’ reaction as I may be invading their freedom. The next day, a couple of them came with their books. I asked them for their difficulties and was amazed when they opened the first page of their book in all the subjects. They had not opened their books for the last three months. I realized I had enrolled myself into a major project.

Within a day or two, I became quite efficient in dividing my time between kids of varying ages. They needed individual attention as their requirements differed vastly. We would keep the last half an hour for singing songs. I began on an ambitious note by introducing songs and poems that they had never heard. They started reciting well known poems such as “Daffodils” by William Wordsworth, “Home, They Brought Her Warrior Dead” by Alfred Tennyson, “Where the Mind is Without Fear” by Rabindranath Tagore and songs such as “Do Re Mi”, “Old Mac Donald”, “This Old Man”, “Brown Girl in the Rain”, “We Shall Overcome” and many more.

Initially, it seemed like a failing battle as the kids were not familiar with this kind of vocabulary. But after the first month of repetitions and practice, they started memorizing the verses. From a rollercoaster ride it became a walk in the park….literally as the classes were held in the garden. We would end the session each day on an animated note. A few breathing exercises for healthy lungs, especially during Covid times, a healthy jog around the park, a couple of yoga stretches ending with the Suryanamaskar and finally, relaxing meditation. They loved the regime and requested me if they could invite a few more kids. I involved other people from the complex to join in, and one person agreed to tackle Mathematics. This was a great load off me, as I was spending a considerable amount of time unravelling their math problems.

When they became sufficiently proficient, we decided to invite everyone from the complex, including their parents, to witness a programme presented by the kids. It was a great success. One of the residents sponsored the samosas, jalebis and tea, so the little initiative became an event. Now, their thirst to learn and perform became ravenous. I had to bend over backwards to satiate their ever increasing demands. Giving them a day off in the week was almost like a punishment for them. They would look at me accusingly whenever I wanted a break or left them before time. It gave me a great thrill, but honesty I needed some breathing space. Now, putting up a performance every month became a ritual. In August, the theme was Independence Day. The kids spoke about the freedom struggle and we sang patriotic songs like Vande Mataram, and concluded with the national anthem. The next month was devoted to nature, and the following month to the festivities of Dussehra and Diwali.

In September, my daughter came with her little daughter who had turned three in June. They came with great difficulty after obtaining a Covid-negative test and an e-pass. My granddaughter was to join preschool, but due to Covid she couldn’t as schools were shut all over the country. Now that she was here and I was running a school of sorts, we decided to sign her up too. Initially, she found the situation very unusual. I was “nani” to her but in class, the kids called me “ma’am”. At first, she wanted her mom to be present in class. But soon she became accustomed to not having her mother around all the time.

Each day was a new learning for her. Gradually, she started singing with the kids and retaining the words in the verses and songs. Some days, I would take time off and my daughter would hold the classes. She recognized that mummy in the class also becomes a “ma’am”. It was very interesting. Incidentally, I was also in my daughter’s first school and she used to address me as “ma’am” in school. Even at home if I called her by her full name, Neha Kirpal, to everyone’s amusement, she would stand up immediately and say “Yes, ma’am!”. This was history repeating itself. I would say we made the most of a bad situation and came out winners. The kids benefitted, the staff was happy, we were constructively occupied and my granddaughter didn’t miss out on her first school experience.

Now, it was getting frightfully cold in the hills. We had to declare winter vacation. My daughter left for her home and we stayed back as Covid numbers were still playing havoc all over the world.

Earlier on, Covid cases were just statistics for us. But disturbingly now, it was afflicting people we knew. Many of our friends and family were becoming victims of this illness. It was taking a frightful turn, and coming closer to home.

Just then we heard that a very dear friend of ours, Sweety, also acquired the infection. Earlier, her family had got it but thankfully, all had recovered. But in her case, the mysterious virus took a nasty turn and Sweety's body gave way. We lost her. She was a wonderful person. She and her husband used to come to Mashobra and spread cheer around. They were excellent hosts and the life of every party. Sweety would croon beautiful old numbers and it was a delight to see them both dance their way to everyone's heart. Losing her to this awful malady was a great shock for all of us.

The Himachal government had thrown the doors open for all to travel freely. Suddenly, there was a surge of tourists who invaded our so-far safe haven. Soon, we heard of some Covid cases close to us. Life became guarded again.

Now, the choice was to stay on in the hills and freeze or go back to the plains and fight Covid and the pollution. What weighed in favour of the plains was no proper medical backup in the hills in case of an emergency. The crisis seemed to be looming close day after day, as Covid cases kept coming closer and closer. It was a case of from the frying pan into the fire. Finally, we decided to jump into the fire and headed homewards to the plains.

Just then, we heard the most devastating news of the year. My closest friend, Dolly, along with her family had tested positive for Coronavirus . She has a mother who is over 80. We were all very worried for them. Surprisingly, she and her mother started recovering but her husband who was fit as a fiddle, did not show any signs of retrieval. However, every time the doctors spoke to him, he would say that he was feeling better—but his parameters showed otherwise. He was shifted to the ICU where after a couple of days, he succumbed to the deadly virus. It was heartbreaking. The news shattered us completely. I felt the real impact of the terrible situation. This was hitting very close to home.

It was a totally helpless feeling. We could not go and hold her hand or embrace her, as one had to maintain social distance. How do you deal with such a terrible predicament without being able to reach out personally to people that you deeply care for? Her own daughter could not meet her mom and console her with a comforting hug. They were meeting each other from a distance. How ironical. In a time like this when we really needed to be with each other, we were forced to stay at a distance. No proper send-off for your dear ones, no prayer meeting—the closure doesn’t happen so easily. We were powerless against the cruel tricks that providence was thrusting upon us.

On my return, I quarantined myself for a week before meeting my dearest friend. No words were enough to express what I wanted to say, so I didn’t have to say anything. But what amazed me was the way my friend and her family had endured the tragedy of losing their loved one. There was no anger, no blame and no overwrought accusations. In fact after Surinder had passed on, his daughter wrote to the doctor attending on him to thank him for all his efforts and time. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. More than me, the doctor must have been so nonplussed that he took a couple of days to react. He wrote to her saying that he tried his best, and that Surinder was a fighter and one of the most cheerful patients he had encountered in this pandemic. Every time the doctor met him, he gave him a thumbs-up sign. However, his medical variables showed no signs of improvement.

That day, I learnt from Dolly that living with bitterness just spoils existing relationships and pulls you down into melancholy from which it’s difficult to pull yourself out. Their terrible loss had somehow given them enough fortitude to deal with the crisis. How can anyone be so rational in such circumstances? With each passing day, my respect for this remarkable family goes up many notches.

This pandemic has cost a lot to a lot of people. People have been rendered homeless, the condition of those with co-morbidities worsened, people lost their businesses and jobs, and most of all their lives. For me and a lot many, 2020 will go down as the darkest year for the loss of their loved ones just as we are still having difficulty coming to terms with the untimely loss of our dear friends Surinder and Sweety.

The year 2021 has begun with a hope for normalcy once again. The vaccine is round the corner. The number of Covid victims is decreasing in the country. Hotels and restaurants are functioning as before. After almost a year of living in fear, people are venturing out of their homes. Small social gatherings are being held.

Many people would have to deal with mental health issues post-Covid. This radical change of lifestyle has affected many. Some have been affected physically, others financially, several socially, emotionally and medically, which leads to mental stress and agony.

I wouldn't say that Covid came without some schooling. We learnt to be more self reliant and learnt to do with less. Not visiting any store to buy clothing, jewellery and household artefacts was not the end of the world. Necessities of one time now seemed superfluous. Not eating out in fancy restaurants and surviving was another feat that seemed unlikely pre-Covid times. One learnt to appreciate and improvise home recipes into more exciting delights, in the process discovering a healthier way of living. A lot of us attended webinars/courses to enhance our potentials. Keeping fit and healthy became a maxim. To invest within became more important than overt showing off. People did breathing exercises, workouts and yoga at home...rendering so-far essential gyms and spas futile. All beauty treatments were in-house, making parlours redundant. Travel, which was an aphrodisiac for survival came to an outright halt. 

Did we fall apart? No. Instead the earth healed. One heard the birds chirping; butterflies and fireflies were back in action. Wild animals came out of hiding and walked the barren streets of cities. Pollution levels improved, the Ganges and other rivers became clean. The plundering of the planet by humans had come to an end. Gratitude is one virtue that the pandemic has taught many. But how long will we remember this lesson given to us by the Almighty? The question is: will we go back to our old ways or come out as greater humans after this pandemic is over? Only time will tell.