Weekend Getaway

An extended weekend like the one that just passed would be the perfect time to party for a person who loves to party, right?

Wrong. I did not attend any parties in the last three days. But that’s not to say I didn’t have any fun. The Republic Day being on a Monday this year made this the perfect time for a weekend getaway. The Guy and I along with two other couples and Nutsy drove 120 km to travel to an unromantic U.P. town where The Guy’s ancestral home is located. Since none of the ancestors have survived to live there, we had the place to ourselves for two days and two nights of uninterrupted entertainment. And let’s just say it’s an understatement to say we had a blast because that doesn’t quite describe the kind of fun we had.

The special effect: The Guy and I have been for holidays with all the friends we spent the last weekend with, but never with all of them at the same time. We’ve holidayed with Couple 1 – T and Appy – in Australia. We’ve holidayed with Couple 2 – KP and M – in Kashmir last year. And Nutsy has been with us to our ancestral home before. But the fun was that for the first time we had managed to plan a getaway, however brief, for all of us together. And since all of them are so special to me, the last weekend was extra special!

Home truths: The house is an old building situated in the centre of green, open spaces. It’s not posh, no, it’s not even an ancient architectural marvel. It’s just a quaint and welcoming place that puts you immediately at ease. If you asked me compare it with something, I’d say it’s like a farmhouse: sparsely furnished, but clean and comfortable.

All fired up: So what did we do that made this trip so much fun? Well, like a lot of my other fun parties this winter, the bonfire has a central role to play here too. We would spend the evenings out in the lawn cosy-ing up around a warm fire, chatting nineteen to a dozen. The free flow of booze helped to loosen up tongues, so that a bonfire session that started at 9 in the evening would be reluctantly wrapped up at five in the morning! Since it was such a close group of friends, it was easy for everyone to let their guards down, to up the ante on cheap jokes and to be happy, whimsical, cerebral and totally inane at the same time. There was some star gazing to be done (by T and The Guy), some patching up to do (between KP and M), some arguments to be had (between Nutsy and me), some slow dancing (between The Guy and me, Appy and T), some teasing (by M and me) and some really scary moments to be laughed off (by all of us)!

Fun in the sun: But we aren’t just a bunch of boring almost-30-year-olds who think fun is only about sitting together and chatting. During the day, Appy and M played cricket with a group of kids, while the rest of us did some target practice with an airgun. Let it suffice to say that I was pathetic at it. We borrowed bicycles from The Guy’s cousin, clicked pictures on a tractor and to top it all, had a tarot reading session with Nutsy at the helm of affairs! I was a little miserable after my reading because the cards didn’t say what I wanted to hear, but since it’s a crime to be sad on a holiday, I put aside my miseries.

Foodilcious: A group of seven lazy adults who’re indulging in so many activities require a lot of food to be keep them going. Which is why Dayalu bhaiya – our cook in Lucknow – was transported to the house even before we could reach there. He made sure our ravenous stomachs were kept full with omelettes, parathas and shakes in the morning, dal-roti in the afternoon, salami, seekh kebab, French fries, pakoris, chicken drumsticks in the evening and a very, very late, modest but delicious dinner.

Dorm norm: We would go to bed just in time to miss the sunrise. Since all of us were sharing a single spacious room, M’s best jokes were reserved for after lights-off. She and Nutsy had us holding our stomachs and crying for dear life because of laughing too much! And that more than made up for other pre-sleep activities that couples usually like to indulge in but had to forego that night. Of course, the different patterns of snoring that we were subjected to weren’t funny when we were trying so hard to sleep, but in the morning that too became a butt of our jokes.