Lessons on how not to evade holiday plans by Cyrus Broacha

There is no escape; I have to be brutally honest. No, I’m not talking about taxes here, or death. In both those cases, there are loopholes, meaning the odd chance of escape. I’m talking about the one thing a family man cannot escape. (By the way Manoj Bajpayee is not the only Family Man. In fact, there are many types of a family man, but all have this one thing in common, which they cannot escape). This thing, this phenomenon, is known in Latin as ‘sheer anxiety’, but you may be more familiar with the modern Gallic phrase ‘family holiday’.

Let’s face it, a family man forgets anniversaries, birthdays, doctor’s appointments, but never ever the looming figure of that grand abominable snowman-like family holiday! In fact, in the past, using my cunning, Kautilya-like mind (I also dress like him on weekends, rest assured), I’ve tried to plan the holiday around my wife’s birthday. You know the famous Chinese saying, which I heard in Paris on my honeymoon, “Your enemy’s enemy is your friend”. I thought I’d use the birthday to scuttle the holiday, my exact words were “How can we be in Dubai on your birthday?” However, checkmate. She loved the idea, and not only did we carry on with the holiday on those dates, but the birthday was celebrated with even more gusto, pomp and splendour, and please bear in mind, it was ₹18 to a Dirham.

I have countless stories like this where holidays have teased and taunted me. Luckily, I don’t remember them, or this column would never end. Now, let us return, like good children, to the present. Trying to nip the situation in the bud, I called up my friendly neighbourhood travel agent, and asked him four essential, fundamental and thoroughly necessary questions. I won’t write down all four questions here for two reasons. Firstly, I can’t remember the questions. Secondly, all four questions contained the same word or extension of that said same word. The word being ‘cheap’.

As an exercise in futility, I beg you to take out a pen and paper and write down four questions about a holiday destination. In each, use one of these four words, ‘cheap, cheaper, cheapest, and even cheaper’. As enjoyable as this exercise is, it generally won’t have the desired results. This is mainly because of the tribunal. No, no, let me correct that. This is because of the appellate system set up in many families. Where the plaintiff, the husband, in this case, me, approaches the small-causes court, which is the younger child, gets rebuked, then approaches the older child, more rebuke. The older child is like the High Court. Finally, to the Supreme Court, the wife, which naturally is rebuke personified.

Long story, little less long, my views and ideas, are discarded on the roadside. The Holiday Committee takes over. The committee consists of a privileged group, known as everybody, anywhere including Facebook, but not me. By the time you read this, I’ll be in Bali, lock, stock and barrel. (The last being me in a towel on the beach). I should not complain, I’ll be surrounded by my three favourite things — heat, bills, and humans in cheap footwear. See how the word cheap always turns up to tease me? If anyone has a method to dodge these holidays, please write to hashtag cheap family man, c.o. The Hindu newspaper.

The writer has dedicated his life to communism. Though only on weekends.