Accompanied by yourself

The best advice that my childhood friend Bozo gives to anybody who is embarking upon a journey, or even if he is not, is “Travel Light.” Whether you are proceeding by air or sea route, by car or by bus, train or truck, travel light, he says. No matter if you are going abroad on business or pleasure, or taking an inland trip for a short, weekend holiday, travel light. Especially if you are going on a holiday. Now, what exactly does travelling light mean? Bozo explains: “Apart from the number of bags, suitcases and other luggage, and the weight of them carries, travelling light also involves, most importantly, travelling with a light heart, without agents of harassment and harrowing. It means going on your journey without stress or being bothered, except the small hassles on the road or the feverish antics of the passenger beside you in flight.” My friend Bozo is very particular about holidays. He is one of its greatest advocates and had once even launched a movement to sensitise and agitate and teach the necessity of holidays in the life of a citizen. “Holidays are our birthright,” he claims, “and the person who doesn’t take holidays is a beast, a robot sapiens. Even beasts of burden sometimes take holidays.” He goes on to explain that in the civilized countries of Europe, holidays are obligatory. “You’ll be sacked if you refuse to take holidays. Your colleagues will curse you and the boss will start casting suspicious eyes on you.” The European will thus work hard during eleven months and save his Euros in order to come and either spend them here or get robbed by thieves. In both cases he achieves the same result – he is looted. Bozo is of opinion, and he says it loud and clear, that there is no better way of travelling light than travelling alone, especially if you are going on a holiday. “Nothing can beat a solo trip to the seaside, or the forest in the heart of nature, or to any such place. O the bliss and beatitude, the sheer ecstasy of the moment of splendour on the grass.” I must confess that l don’t often get the good fortune of relishing such moments of delight, my dear Billy, but I rather tend to believe every word of what my friend Bozo advances. And he always makes it a point to manage a few lonely escapades every now and then, especially during the weekends. It’s very important to go alone if you want to charge your batteries and resource yourself in all tranquillity,” he confides. He very conveniently dispatches the wife to her relatives, or uses the weekends when she goes out with her friends of the senior citizens club, and off he goes on an intimate adventure with himself. His luggage consists of his toothbrush, toothpaste, toiletry accessories, a T-shirt or two, his shorts and underwear, a couple of books, his pen and paper. Thus armed and accoutered, he sets off for a weekend of euphoria. “Ah the joy of being alone,” he gasps on his return. “No nagging voice or echo, no orders, no list of do’s and don’ts. No need to give any explanation or to cook up answers to whys and whens and whos and hows. Life can be so peaceful if only others could know how to make it so for you. Bozo is somebody who has always worked hard to keep his marriage going. His formula is quite interesting too. “Twice every week, we go to a posh seaside restaurant for a sumptuous candlelight dinner – luscious food, delicious wine, soft music. She goes on Tuesdays, I go on Fridays.” Bozo has never learned cooking but my friend is never one to go hungry. In his own very words, “Bless the person who invented restaurants. May all his descendants, wherever they have been dispersed in this great, big world, always do well and prosper till the end of times. As long as there’ll be restaurants, or even snack bars and filthy-looking fast food vendors at the street corners, l’ll never go hungry”. And to prove himself right, he very diligently walks or drives to an eatery at feeding time, or whenever he is hungry or feels like, and orders the dishes according to his preference or mood of the moment. “There’s nobody to make your choice for you, nobody to remind you, ‘but darling, you had fish curry for dinner last night, why do you want to have fish again?’ If l bloody want to have grilled fish for lunch today, how does it matter if l had fish curry last night? A man must be free to eat fish wherever and whenever and as often as he feels like it, mustn’t he?” Bozo also cherishes the moment when, all alone in the hotel room or the bungalow, he can do the things that he wants to do at certain precise moments of the day or night. “l can put on the light at 2.18 in the morning and start reading my book where l had left it without somebody yelling ‘Do you know what time it is? Put off the light and let me sleep.’ Or I can watch a good Tamil movie if l want without being chidden and asked to change the channel because she wants to watch Mickey Mouse.” Whenever I meet my friend Bozo, l somehow remind myself that you live only once in this body and shape. Why spoil your present life? Why not do the things that you want to do at the time you want to do them, my dear Billy?