It was Aarti Shastri, who, before she transitioned to Agastya Shastri, wrote in her epic work The Monsoon of Hindustan that a family holiday is the ultimate test of love, tolerance, and friendship. Having just returned from a family holiday, I realise that Aarti, sorry Agastya is India’s greatest writer since just after Kalidas, and just before Chetan Bhagat. But why tell you? Most of you are part of families.
You know the pressure, anxiety, the occasional glance at other happier families at airports, wishing you were with them. The first challenge for the Broacha family was the Mumbai Airport, which I like to call the Mumbai scareport. However, first let’s meet the main actors in this theatre of the not too absurd.
First, there’s my wife Ayesha, who we call Major General, (and not in an affectionate way). She’s the person that all families have. The one most of us dread.
The enthusiastic one. Tell me, in the modern world, what can be more tedious then being around an enthusiastic individual? They can be a real obstacle to others, as they use every second of the holiday seeing things and doing things. We have to constantly remind her that we are not Hannibal crossing the Alps, we’re just mundane desi travellers going to Bali, slowly.
Very slowly. Speaking of slowly, there is a second character — Shree Kunal Vijayakar. The slowest member of our entourage.
To understand his walking style, you’ll have to imagine a group of three adult humans, and a small immobile c.