I found out yesterday at work that I have a lot of leave pending. Good child that I am, and having taken what I can count on my one hand, are f o u r days off this year, my attendance is near perfect. Much like the only spark of brilliance on my board exam report card. This is good news. But so much for propagating notions of having a life, it's mid September, and I'm a little unnerved about how to kill that much time -- 45 days, maybe more before the year ends.
A month. I can officially take a full month off to recharge my batteries. How so, remains hanging, but my most easily do-able two options are:
a. Pure and simple, vegetate. Here only, in Delhi. Hit the treadmill, live online, grow my hair, join Yoga classes, and look forward to sundry Diwali melas -- the Blind School one most of all. Stock up on handmade paper diaries for the year, and token-buy some blue glaze pottery. There's no use for the latter other than them making for quirky presents, but if you saw my toothpick holder, you might change your mind and pledge loyalty to me and the advice I dispense.
b. Head for the hills, to my grandparent's gravelled-driveway home, and vegetate there. Maybe fumble around the big kitchen and learn to cook a something or two. Have breakfast out in the garden, drop eggshells in the rose carries for the sake of their nourishment and bloom, and lazily while the mornings away. Easiest thing to do: nod off to sleep with back to the sun, feet safeguarded from tan by big helpful garden umbrella. What joyful sloth. Oil hair even, or play scrabble, lose badly, and go back to sleep. Wake up in good time, raid the fridge, make milkshake, and go for long evening walks -- halfway to Mussorie and Ruskin Bond's shack, come back via the ashrams that have 6.30 p.m aartis and white batasha chips for dessertum prasaad. Right hand over the left. Winter will be around the corner, so night-lamp reading and Jaipuri razais will be unavoidable. No traffic sounds from the road, just crickets under the bed, jobless yowling neighbourhood mongrels, and the distinctly toxic spray of raat ki raani.
One way or the other, 'not quite sure what I'm waiting for.
A month. I can officially take a full month off to recharge my batteries. How so, remains hanging, but my most easily do-able two options are:
a. Pure and simple, vegetate. Here only, in Delhi. Hit the treadmill, live online, grow my hair, join Yoga classes, and look forward to sundry Diwali melas -- the Blind School one most of all. Stock up on handmade paper diaries for the year, and token-buy some blue glaze pottery. There's no use for the latter other than them making for quirky presents, but if you saw my toothpick holder, you might change your mind and pledge loyalty to me and the advice I dispense.
b. Head for the hills, to my grandparent's gravelled-driveway home, and vegetate there. Maybe fumble around the big kitchen and learn to cook a something or two. Have breakfast out in the garden, drop eggshells in the rose carries for the sake of their nourishment and bloom, and lazily while the mornings away. Easiest thing to do: nod off to sleep with back to the sun, feet safeguarded from tan by big helpful garden umbrella. What joyful sloth. Oil hair even, or play scrabble, lose badly, and go back to sleep. Wake up in good time, raid the fridge, make milkshake, and go for long evening walks -- halfway to Mussorie and Ruskin Bond's shack, come back via the ashrams that have 6.30 p.m aartis and white batasha chips for dessertum prasaad. Right hand over the left. Winter will be around the corner, so night-lamp reading and Jaipuri razais will be unavoidable. No traffic sounds from the road, just crickets under the bed, jobless yowling neighbourhood mongrels, and the distinctly toxic spray of raat ki raani.
One way or the other, 'not quite sure what I'm waiting for.
17 comments:
there should be a leave-bank thing, where u donate excess leaves, and needy ones like me will be blessed!
Planning little getaways can be so durn harrowing, as I've just discovered :P
How d'you handle a month of leave? I'd go stark raving mad!
WHAT are you waiting for??!! Woman!! Your grandparents' place sounds just like my Naani's - and I'd go there in a trice if I had that kind of leave! :)
Do a half and half… if I were you, I'd soak in a bit of country and a bit of the city – take a walk on a road less trodden, pluck those tiny pretty white wild flowers, pick blackberries and hope you don’t poison yourself when you hesitantly pop one in your mouth, eat grandma ke haath ka khana – and then be bored in a week to want to be back to apna dilli – do everything you didn’t get time to do – watch films all day at home – just vegetate around the house with the boyfriend, go to dilli haat – and then if some more time is left to kill, take the next plane and reach Mumbai where 2 women would be madly happy to have you over!
Anon: Heh. No such thing as excess leave, regardless of how much one whines about not not knowing what to do with all that luxury:)
MC: What recent getaways, man? You can't talk about what you don't blog about! iss not aeloud.
Stark raving mad, yes, but in a good way na?:)
Three Dee: You'd think the rightfully used emphatic punctuation would get me off my butt and moving.. yes yes, I'm going I'm going..
Mayo: Come with me lover. Let us to vegetate together. I need to take leave for you also. SO much plaaaaaning involved yaa! what to dooo. haan Baambay can be revijit. and P.S blackberry=jamun, correct? no poison involved then dufus lady.
Can't encash it? (Over-pecuniary.)
Hark the new Woodchuck poster.
you lucky lucky thing! but then again, i am student log, and have lots holidays coming up! joy!
I thought blackberry = QWERTY type phone...er.
save some money and get your butt over here. the weather is awesome and... come on woman.. new york city?? :) i promise you a blast! and men from every country :D
eh... isnt blackberry the thing that grows wildly in bunches? or maybe its raspberry then...the red tiny globes?
and Mr.C...how out of touch with nature are u...a fone indeed eh...smartass ignoramus you! :P
come eedhar phirst! I promise you "eat, sleep and have a blast".. eet ees me family motto that.
arrey waah.. see how people fight over you woman!
Pera: you over-pecuniary turd, as brilliant a suggestion as it is, I'd feel weaaaaly pathetic encashing leave! I can't let that happen. What of my hip has-a-life image?:) you like new woodchuck image? Good. Danke. Appreciated. pat pat.
Pixie P: It hasn't been that long; i can tell apart study leave from actual holidays, ye know. You will be taking exams very shortly, meanwhile, I tra la , would still rather risk getting my ass fired than cramming last minute. *shudder* thank goddd those days are over, woman, thank GOD!:D
MC: oof, must I paste a link of Indian herb names here. Ras-bhari they call it at Mother Dairy. Not blackberry. Blueberry toh is out. GOOSEberry is little golden loosie-inducing fruit; season starting, for which, i think.
Catty: Men from every country suits me. December suits you? I'm serious. I don't care about the cold. I love a winter wardrobe. I'll get my overcoat and boots, and snuggle up to you for added warmth. ;P
Mayo: That's what I was saying! We don't get bloody blackberries that aren't palm sized and inedible yahaan pe. The red tiny globes..? er.. cherries? :D *ducks*
Yes MC -- what the lady said -- don't act smart, man!
Manu!!!!!: what is the point of me coming there when you're coming here, fool scientist?! Whats about dilli ki sardi and chicken changezi vans? Or you meet me in New York. aah. There's a castle in the sky. You can teach me your accent, we can laugh a lot and the blast goes without saying. I swear I wont hit on you even. Wouldn't want to rob your commentators of their thunder.
*p o k e r - s t r a i g h t - f a c e*
hain? wateetess this newyork? phlease not to be imagining desi version of carrot-bradshaw show.. I know you did! you did! you soo did!
no worries, you can hit on/with/around me behby.. there's a lot of me to go around..hehe hehe
What a waste of precious time Nimps....just go SOMEWHERE!
I mean, no matter how cool u sould udderwise, letting leave rot is very uncool..
U will get a sound lecture from me over that cheese cake on smelling the roses along the way and all that shit.
But honestly, working insanely hard never got us anywhere IN THE END, and I firmly believe is nothing to be proud of, unless u end the sentence with "party harder"
:D
Now off u go. Shoo!
Pip/Mayo: Tchah...nobody appreciates a leetel joke here. :P
Manu: Tsk. Never mind carrot bradshaw, fool. I love carrot bradshaw, so shut your mouth and hatch plan.
Chandni: No no, no leave is going to rot, i pwomise myself that much. I have till year end to take off so planning still in nascent stage. Cheesecake is good, we can discuss my travel itinerary in between scoopfuls!
MC: Aww. Tchah is sweet stuff. Myself thinking of abandoning tsk in favour of tch. (idle Saturdays let you dwell on the minute:)
Post a Comment