BENGALURU: Marinating in one place seemed to take the zestfulness of travel out of my system. I prided myself on being a free bird who could spread her wings (figuratively speaking, of course) and fly anywhere I wanted. I was partial to a couple of countries like Italy, and I would find any excuse to return.
My passport boasted of a myriad of visas and the thought of travelling excited and invigorated me. Often I would take off on my own, only with my BFFs in tow, and have a blast. I remember doing a Mediterranean cruise with a boatload of women and we became the talk of the cruise-ship! The ladies had come prepared with Bollywood pen-drives and some even gave the chef a couple of Indian recipes to follow.
Every morning we would excitedly look out of out portholes (huge windows) to see a new city. Mykonos, Santorini, Athens… life couldn’t get better! But (a ‘but’ is like a drop of wee-wee that spoils a whole bowl of soup), the advent of Covid did a number on me. Surely and very insidiously it made me afraid to step out of my comfort zone.
Now I am not ashamed to admit that I have ‘travel-anxiety’! A lot of my older friends too, seem to experience this new phenomenon. At the airport I see older people with a sheaf of documents looking harassed while the young-uns have it handy on their phones. Going through security is a nightmare with impatient younger flyers pushing and shoving their way to the gate. I saw an older couple trying hard to use digi-yatra.
Somewhere, ‘time’ has stopped for some of us. It’s like we have opened a portal into the twilight zone. Too old to master Artifical Intelligence but too young to die…sigh!
I had to give myself a lot of pep-talks to motivate myself to start taking baby steps into exploring the world again. This has been a ‘mini-break’ kind of year and I’m making tentative forays by travelling outside of my comfort zone. It’s like re-learning to swim. Never forgetting, but not being as proficient.
When a dear friend floated the idea of going on a small all girls vacay to Uzbekistan, I was all in. As women, we are uncomplicated creatures as much as the ‘other-species’ would like to think we aren’t and make unkind memes about our ‘wavering-mind’ syndrome. Promptly, the six of us met up at the erstwhile Bangalore Club, decided on an itinerary made out by a friend who lives there, and next month, off we go on a much needed vacation. No husbands, no children, just the wind in our hair and a skip in our steps.
I have always wondered why the theatre scene here isn’t as vibrant as in Mumbai. We have the talent, the verve and that certain ‘je ne sais quoi’ that is the mainstay of every performing artist. Yet we lack in performing spaces and sponsors. We watch helplessly as major productions come to our city and show us how it’s done. The effervescent theatre patron, Usha Subramanium brought down Lillete Dubey’s musical magnum opus Jaya from Mumbai. Needless to say, we all sat spellbound in the audience as we watched the magnificence of the Mahabharata unfold before our eyes.
Next time Usha, it’s namma-ooru’s turn to be showcased.
(The writer’s views are personal)