A bagful of Nainital !

This 'n' that
By Renee Ranchan

I DO love such work-holidays and wish they would come up more often, like say, every other month. Have got back from one such and feel like an expert on the work-yet-holiday exercise. I do recommend you take one... . If I had my way, I would head for one now — would be most convenient too, my bags are still unpacked. Ten days ago when work took me to Nainital, I did my packing with a spring in my step. That says something... packing suitcases puts me in a state of panic. I am not good with clothes and my cupboard, no matter how hard I try, remains in a state of perpetual disarray. To top I am a heavy traveller — drag a hefty suitcase even for a weekend. But before you get into psychoanalysing me, I must move on.... Why the happy jig while packing? I do have a soft corner for Nainital and hope this magical hill-town doesn’t go the hill-station way. Mussoorie, have you seen it lately? Shimla, shall not make mention of it!

To be perfectly honest, the trip was more of a vacation and less of an assignment. But remember this information is strictly between you and me — back in the workplace the impression is just the opposite. Funny, how easy it is to put on an I-am-always-on-duty expression. And I always had the impression that only actors knew about arranging faces.... But this too, between you and me, okay? Nainital, how do I begin describing it? I loved the shimmering lights in the lake and during the day was on the boat, breaking only for lunch or tea. The boatmen are full of folktales — undated and gentrified. Yes, this is what I call moving with times... . Sher Singh my boatman was a real storyteller, a sweetheart as well. Pity he could not write. Native intelligence would be absolutely electrifying if honed. And the rickshaw rides with the breeze blowing in to your hair and the trill of their bells, music really... I know, I know I am rhapsodising and this is not a see-Nainital promo but what can I say, bear with me, this in-praise-of-hallelujah is not going to take up all that much space! And, ever since my return to ‘Dilli’, I have been toying, as in seriously, with the idea of building a cottage there. Have chosen the exact spot too... on the mountain which looks deep into the lake. Of course, the cottage, built lovingly log by log, (not clinically bought!) would be surrounded by marigolds. Another Nainital speciality. Marigolds, love their comfortable-in-their-skin Indianness. That reminds me, I still have to take off the marigold toran that did up my door for Diwali. Dried up yes, but I promise I still catch the waft of its fragrance....The place is known for its cooks — how callous of me — chefs, that is the word. Plus the fresh, plump vegetables play a role as well. On my first trip last year, during the same month, I could not get enough of the tomato shorba, a stew so rich and savour, and found myself actually scooping up the greens with a relish. This year, however, the vegetables were another story... shrivelled and expensive. Had the good stuff been exported? And what is a good broth without onions anyway? That reminds me a friend tells me that a dhaba where he had halted to catch a quick wholesome bite had issued strict orders — the instructions painted loud and clear on the wall in an untidy scrawl — no onions for munching. The news of onion sure has travelled. Two very mornings ago, got an overseas call from my brother. Without even the mandatory ‘hello,’ he screeched, "Is it true?" After repeating the query thrice and me grouchily (at 5 in the morning you can hardly expect a satiny voice!) wanting to know what was it that was true, he spelled it out. Onions hitting Rs 60 a kilo. And that it was unsafe to walk home alone with a tiny sackful.

Back to Nainital...promise I shall soon make it back to the real world though now I feel out of touch with the part. Candles are synonymous with Nainital and no, they are not the run-of-the-mill kinds. It is amazing... candles shaped into exotic grape-clad trees, fairies with their magic wands, chug-chug trains and pink frosted pastries. And yes, they are so magnificent that you would have to think twice before lighting them! (Dimple Kapadia, I have heard, has started candle business. Do you think Nainital has something to do with it? I would have wanted to buy the whole shop... settled, however, for a Santa candle. Christmas, a month away, remember? And this Santa with his eyes disappearing into a smile, apple-red cheeks, white river of a beard, not to forget his bulging sack of gifts is, what would you say, absolute magic.

Now for the other side: Marriage season means hill-towns are packed. Yes, hills are for honeymooners. Spotted quite a few honeymoons taking hours to finish that one cup of tea... much to the chagrin of the restaurant receptionist! This just-into-wedlock duo, does never dress in accordance with the weather. Cold, biting winds and a light shawl draped daintily on the bride’s shoulder... sweater, what on earth is that? And shoes, would not be caught dead in them. Sandals, with perilously high heels, for climbing slopes? And that goes even when there is a sheet of snow. This footwear gives the groom a chance to play knight-in-shining-armour... he will have to hold on to the brand new wife. Would not do to let her slip! Now only if I could find a boy scout who would find out if the orthopaedic ward is extra busy during the marriage season. The grooms are ill-clad too (open shirts, a la Salman Khan wave) but move on, shall we? But aah yes, just have to mention this goes for just-married middle-aged couples too. In other words, it’s not an ‘age thing’. And had there not been an announcement on the ban polythene bags? Would someone ple-eaze tell us how come everything from vegetable (not that a trip to the sabziwallah is routine anymore) to medicines is packed in those out-to-destroy-our-planet plastic? And maybe I am imagining it but Nainital seemed to have more than its share of this variety of carry-bags. How else would you explain the mountains of plastic littering the place? Yes, that brings me to a painful or should I say embarrassing query. Indians, litterbugs? Litterbugs, Indians? One evening (think it was towards tea-time) while I was walking down to the Mall, a teenager (how come teenagers today either have waif-like, brittle figures or else are healingly overweight?) at every step kept trashing the path. First an Uncle Chips bag (empty of course!) followed by candy wrappers, chocolate foil... after which I lost count. The boy —yes, you guessed it belonged to the bordering-on-obese category — actually left a Hansel and Gretel trail. And he had that well-tended look of the rich. You know, the kinds that know only of cocktail onions. No, money does not buy civic sense, manners. Found myself blowing my top at a couple who after feeding popcorn to ducks dunked the empty bag (plastic, what else?) into the lake! Of course they couldn't care less, thinking I was more than a little batty. They even blew their own top in return. So much for trying to be to a good citizen! Tourists, is there a rule that they have to put their good sense on the wayside and ensure that it is left there? The week that I was in Lake town found me in and out of restaurants...never go on a diet when out of town, it takes the taste out of the trip. Food, is an essential, if not most important, tour-ingredient. Now I would really, re-eally like to know why the sofa seats are usually dirt-smudged and lumpy? Upholstery, have restaurateurs not heard of it? Is the menu rate list the only thing to be updated? Filthy, bumpy sofas... off-putting and not a comfortable way of having a meal. And, hope, I am not talking from a double-stringed-pearl-choker point of view. And with eateries dotting the Mall there have to be waiters as well...Nainital’s waiters, especially so, are sad and scruffy-looking. Perhaps wearing sombre expressions was a cultural thing? Later, after observing (okay, staring!) at a few packed tables, I understood. Dismal tips and so dismal looks. Yes, blowing a bundle on meal is fine — stack up the table with a chappati-sphagetti mound — but thanking your table-attendant with a nourishing tip, no way!

Time to tie up this piece. So see you later...and yes, if you plan to go to Nainital, would love a picture post-card.