Bon Voyage

It all began with a start! Dad waking me up with a cup of tea and I habitual of romancing Mozart looking at it dismally. Why had it let me down? I didn’t remember putting it on snooze. 10 mins to 4am and am checking mail, instinctively. Who raised a storm in the cup of life in the last 3 and a quarter hrs of my being away? No one. Absolutely no one. Its these moments that being inconsequential is blissful to otherwise one’s belief in self –love and indulging in Ptolemic theory until the disruptive heliocentricism strikes
I wonder where I get abundant energy and enthusiasm to spring into action at unearthy hours like these. On other days it takes innumerable snoozes in a span of 1 hr, which needless to say is not sans grunts and moans.
Here I am getting everyone into action. Assuming my dads role for once. We have landed at weddings while the florist and caterers were setting up the place and the girls side still absconding, at dinners before the host , so much for abiding by his clockwork. Punctuality in Delhi is so mediocre. Delay, to my father, once an NDA cadet and forever an officer, is blasphemy. On all other occasions I hold true to Indian Standard Time, but this one time, an exception. This, one more time, am my dad’s daughter, this one time am ready a complete half hour before time. I have already begun to surprise myself.
Car reversed and ready to load, paper foot mats from last night’s servicing discarded, two sticks with abundant music plugged, and an ISB Alumnus sticker displayed! Phew hadn’t found the time to do this in a month. Had purchased it from campus during my last trip with Di and Pratima, my niece.
Windows rolled down -Mom, Dad and I join our hands for a pact- a fun filled, memorable holiday as the car rolled out of the driveway. Driver? Me.
God bless mom for all the goodies she packed for the journey. Traditional picnics have been a while and may I add the chai in a thermos with sandwiches, paranthas and biscuits, bargained rather poorly. Thanks to her had enough to chomp on shakad pade, crackers, chocolate cookies and fruits. Of course I dig the unhealthy munchies, afterall have just started my way to cleansing, it will be a while. Mum recited her morning prayers and side view mirror captured the crack of dawn in its full glory.
Those monster faces, I can imagine them come alive, or at least did when I was 17, in a session with my driving school instructor. He urged me to drive through the most busy streets and chug along trucks that although had been adorned lavishly yet it didn’t take away from the angry gluttonous look they wore. The truth, I thank him. Today their gangs didn’t bother me.
When you are driving towards perfect state of mind, uncanny how the things move towards perfection. A perfect frame of laden clouds against a backdrop of verdant Aravalli’s, luscious fields, full wheat cods, tar road and music. Music to which mom and I crooned away. I could see,Dad, from the corner of my eyes drumming his fingers, sitting beside.
Paranthas, masala tea, customary visit to the washroom, couple of stretches and a photo shoot later at the pitstop we resumed the road trip.
We overshot the bypass for Ajmer and the navigator who had been deputed to receive us lead us to our accommodation at Jaipur. We loomed into the thick of traffic, coordinating on calls and stopping several times to seek directions ( the benefit of women drivers).Here is a tip when asking for directions in Jaipur. Watch the hand, cause what they say is left/right agnostic, everything is “seedha” while their hands are thrown all over the place in a truly animated manner. At their expense we had many laughs and of course my driving skills tested through narrow lanes.
Chai is the red bull of India. It energizes, revitalizes, and brings us back to life. Sipping tea, I knew, now there is no rush, I have time on my side, am not running and I could hear the birds chirp. The holiday has begun.The Road trip to Rajasthan.

An ode to Udaipur

A spec in the dust
raises a storm
of its sand.

Carries with the wind
a whistling whirlpool
of dying roots
and staple citrus rind.

An arid land,
thorny bushes and cacti.
Changing hues of the sky,
from blues to grey to tan.

Topography changing hands
where past and present blend.
Mirages of civilization
in the narrow alleys of palaces
tourists smitten by eerie fascination.

Copper pots and pans
women adornd with silver embellishments
men with overt masculine demonstrations
a culture entrenched in rich tradition.