I'm the Queen of the World!

So I saw Queen last night finally-

A. Because of all the hype created around it.

B. Because in all cuteness people were asking if I had seen the flick and wanted to know how I felt about it *I feel so critic-ishly kicked*

For otherwise, it would have been difficult to make me watch a Kangana Renawat movie just by the merit of her being in it.

Like I’ve said before, it is always better to watch a movie before they cram you with their opinions on it. The perspective is always truer.

Queen IS beautiful!

Also, I am beginning to realize that I can relate to anything onscreen that is based on a sense of abandon, with streaks of freedom from the stereotyped molds. It sometimes sends me into self introspection mode going in circles in my mind till real life takes over (Also the reason perhaps why I never watch anything on television). Aren’t we all trying to break free from whatever it is that defines us? Those tucked deep in riches want to live life the common man way, the common man strives to get out of his mediocrity, the house bound wife seeks adventure, the nomad travels relentlessly to find a base to root into and so on. Hence we are unified by a common thread for that desire to experience the uncommon of our lives.

Perhaps this craving is right. Why else should we get up from our beds each morning or what else would we dream of when we go to bed at night?

Queen celebrates the idea of being on your own.

Such a defining thought!

And for someone like me, it was a personal nudge. I CANNOT travel alone. Is there a name for the fear of traveling alone, some kind of phobia? Well, if there is, it would be what I suffer from. Ironically for someone who in her heart only sees herself as a nomad, experiencing life from place to place, is declaredly scared if she finds herself alone at the airport for over 5 minutes for the fear of being left behind or someone digging out drugs from her bags and getting her arrested before anyone even discovers she is missing. Not that I’d be travelling by air in those mind dreams.

Anyway, how beautifully does the movie sketch the female psyche!

I remembered my own mehndi and a thousand different thoughts zig zagging in that little head of mine like in Rani’s while the entire space around was a menagerie of sorts. That flickering doubt that came and went- Is it too soon? I haven’t even become anything in life yet? I might not become anything in life post this? But too many hopes hanging on me of everyone I’m pinned with, to tell them now to let me live my life first instead of building another one as a couple. My grandfather telling me he was glad he was seeing me getting married and could now die in peace; which he did within just three months of me leaving that house. Girls are like that or grow up conditioned like that in varying degrees - whether they live in Lajpat Nagar or not.

But then not everyone would be as lucky as Rani to be able to squeeze out a life from a latent existence in an unknown land. In a sense, the movie was real but dipped in a beautiful fairy tale flavor. The freshness emitting out of the fact that she became her own Prince Charming rescuing her from the gnawing miseries!

G looked at me intermittently through the scenes telling me now and again, “Seekho” implying on the streaks of independence as was being sketched out on screen. Little did he care to ponder over though that with an independent body comes a very independent mind! While driving back from the theatre, I asked him what did he learn from the movie. He’s a smart one now, my husband; he asks back- “What do you think I should learn from the movie?”

And very complacently I said, that it IS possible to have friends all over the world, who may or may not subscribe to the same age group, social strata or thinking genre as our lives are in. It is not always sexual. (Dear Mohnish Behl saying in Meine Pyar Kiya- “Ek ladka aur ladke kabhi dost nahi ho sakte”. Yes, fuck off!)

And he smiled mischievously for he refuses to believe one can find genuine friends over the internet and be close to them, even sometimes surpassing real life friends we’ve lived with. He shakes his head when I tell him of a 23 year old friend who confides in me, his life's trials and tribulations or of a 55 years old someone whose voyages on the sea fascinate me as though I journeyed with him. It is possible to share lives with strangers. Not all strangers come with dangerous motives. Some come with empathy that familiar faces find it strange to offer, without petty judging. And a woman thinking out of the box is not playing with her character.

But the most important thing that dawned upon me from there - Nothing good will happen to your stuck up life till daaroo happens to you! Oh yes!

I always forget I am reviewing a movie after a paragraph on it.

·        I wished I could see myself standing on a crowded threshold with that huge-ish map and make out anything from what seems like gibberish there.

·        I wished I knew what heeng was called in English, for friends around then looked up to the “English ma’am” honouring her presence to the group, to enlighten them.

·        I wished I knew how to contrive golgappas, even on Indian soil for that matter, to be able to eventually have that first kiss with that Italian hottie.

·        I wished I was streamlined Lisa Haydon-ish enough to be able to wear some Alexander’s shirt and scream out of the bathroom for the fear of some lizard, which I anyway do.

·        I wished I knew how to wear a bra like that under the covers just as stealthily as I can take out one.

·        I wished my parents would have at least let me go on that all-girls school trip in class 9 from my convent school. At least some kind of taste of that life on my lips for my life to look back on and not write such dreary reviews.

Let everyone live their lives before someone decides they should walk the aisle. Let that someone be the one who has to do it.

P.S. I still loved Highway more. While everyone gushed over Alia’s performance, I still can’t get over Randeep’s characterization and how well he sank and vanished into it, losing every iota of who he is otherwise. To an extent Kangana did too. That’s why these movies work for me. Also I’ve told my husband I am going to America alone now just to face my fears. He says, first try and book tickets uptil Unnao from here, some 100 odd kms from Kanpur. And to think I thought he’d be a new man post the movie. Tch!

What if your life had a past too?

This happened some four months ago during my visit to Jaipur with friends although I chose to remain quiet and ignore it till today until evidence came knocking me off my feet this morning. I am not superstitious and I stay at an arm’s distance from anyone who believes in irrationally of horoscopes, planetary predictions and past life regression. But then what I have experienced makes me rethink my entire surmise.

In March, my husband and I along with another couple and our kids took a four days trip to Jaipur and Ajmer. On the second day we decided to hire a hotel cab and visit the famous Amber Fort. It was all marvellously exhilarating to see history drenched walls and chambers and walk through the royal whims and fancies. However, all the mirth became a little dimmed when I became conscious of someone staring at me. No, this was not a situation where a street loafer checks you out. Here was a typical ripened Rajasthani man, with the signatory big and excessively greying moustache, the head covered in a red turban, adorning a white kurta pajama along with the jutees completing the look-the kinds you see or rather un-see merging in the backdrop of some filmy moments on screen.

I noticed him first outside the huge gates of the inner fort area and looked past him thinking it to be the curiosity for visitors. But then as sharp as my sensory perceptions have always been, I soon realized I was being followed by a very intent pair of eyes. He stopped when I did, pretended to look around and then walked on while he saw us strut. After a while I became very uncomfortable more so with the idea that we had two little girls with us and the world is becoming weirder.

My husband was duly informed and he gave him a stern look. The stranger seemed to have backed off, when shortly we spotted him again almost running after our car as it left for the hotel. The matter ended for me then but for him had just begun.

The next morning I became aware of him outside our hotel premises while we left for the sight-seeing and again after two hours when we returned-juxtaposed there like a pole. I generally would not have recognized him had he not got that same peculiar stare that he brutally and unsparingly showered me with. Something was wrong. He didn’t seem like an old man in heat or greed. I spoke to my husband and we got the man called inside although we thought it safe to meet him in the lobby itself.

What he said thereafter left us totally befuddled. At the very onset he showed us a picture to get what he desired-our riveted attention and jaws dropping. Within the frame was he and a woman in her twenties that anybody would agree to, was me. Only I didn’t know the man, had never been to this part of the world before and why would I get clicked with him in a traditionally Rajasthani outfit?

 

The picture was of his daughter’s. He then narrated a tale which I would relate to you, minus the historical and religious names that he had mouthed but I can’t seem to remember now however much I jog my memory. His daughter’s name was Ajeeta, a wonderful girl born in a humble family-cheerful, outgoing and rarely intelligent for someone brought up by his almost poor means. He had a set of six camels that he supplied to the Fort, to earn his livelihood-a kind of family business he explained.

Ajeeta was married at the age of twenty one and allowed to study by her husband who was in the police force, due to her love for learning. She became a professor of Economics at Rajasthan University. However, she could not bear children despite many years of attempting for it. It was then that they went to a local tantrik to seek for some ‘cure’ while he opened skeletons from the past instead. He said that Ajeeta’s soul was cursed. It was a set of seven souls, conjoined at the origin and bearing the same fate and face as I did, that followed a predefined circle of life till death.

He lost me as soon as he brought in the tantrik stuff but my husband and the couple with us were intrigued. I left to put my daughter to sleep, while he narrated more. About half an hour later, my husband returned to the room very concerned and his face death pale. I almost regretted getting the old man inside to talk-a complete waste of the afternoon over gibberish and hallucinations of a lunatic.

He made me sit on the bed before explaining more. Apparently Ajeeta and I had many similarities. She had near death experiences at the age of 18 and 25. The man had asked if I did too. My husband knew of an accident that I had at the age of 25 when our driver almost rammed into a lorry with me getting severe injuries on the left side of the body. He asked me if something had happened at the age of 18. I told him I had severe jaundice that lasted for almost two months but laughed it off as a coincidence.

What about being over intelligent and the love for learning, he asked. So now, did I have the copyright on that, I reasoned. He was getting exasperated for he wanted to convince me and yet not, to keep me away from the fears that had gripped his being.

He: “He asked if you have a big birth mark on your right thigh. Please, tell me this is a coincidence too. He reasserted that this set of souls cannot bear children, Suruchi. He said when he saw you with our daughter that it was the only perplexing factor. He begged me to tell him if the daughter really is ours. Can you still disagree? When I told him we have adopted her after years of turmoil for being unable to have our own, I cannot tell you whether there was reassurance more on his face or pain....”

Me: “But so what even if all of this was true. Does it affect our lives? Okay, there may be seven women of my face walking about the earth right now, with extra ordinary intelligence, leg birth marks and no children and near death experiences, so what?”

I was losing my mind here because I often get into these disagreements with him when like his mother he gives way too much importance to astrology and planetary influence and stuff that I consider as total hogwash.

He: “Had it been just that I would not have bothered so much. There’s more. It seems that Ajeeta died three years ago of a mysterious fever at the age of 32. The souls transfixed to your face and destiny come a full circle after completing thirty two years. We are just four months away from reaching yours. And since everything else has come true, what if....”

And his voice faded and he broke down like a little child. Although I still did not believe it was possible yet I chose not to laugh at it this time. How do you handle a grown up man, crying with unshakable belief that he was going to lose the only love of his life, the mother of his child in a few months? He was almost convinced that this would happen. I was wondering why all the drama has been destined in my life only although this peculiar epiphany really took the cake.

I became silent too, I know not because of seeing him like that or subconsciously realizing that death was as real as life and probably lurking around some corner for more significant instances were quoted to prove the similarities of our lives. I now had questions of my own circling and churning my mind.

What would a random stranger gain out of creating such a story anyway? How would he know exact details of my life? And most importantly, what was his motive behind telling it all to me? My husband then related that I was the last link of that chain and the other six have already succumbed to the same fate through the ages. The tantrik had foretold him that I would come. He was the envoy of sorts of this foreboding and....

And just then my daughter awoke and began to cry. We abruptly ended the conversation there and the same evening left for Pushkar. Although every one lightened up soon but the conscious effort of it was straining the natural enjoyment that we would have otherwise had on this trip. The matter was never brought up again until this morning.

Being a lazy Sunday and while everyone still being engulfed in the comforting arms of sleep, I sauntered outside the room, my eyes falling upon the silent newspaper as though beckoning me. After ages and after a severe bout of boredom, I picked it up. On the fifth page my eyes fell on the face of a dead, aged Rajasthani man with a peaceful pallor spread on his countenance. The report said that within minutes he had died of a mysterious fever on the road side outside the Kanpur Central station. It was reported that he carried a picture of his daughter and asked the people around if they had seen her. He also seemed to be saying repeatedly “They are coming, they are coming...”

I folded the newspaper with a sick dread swallowing up my heart.

For a long while I was lost in a reverie or perhaps blank in my mind.

And in the backdrop crooned actress Rakhi’s voice in some movie as she hammed a line again and again, “Mere Karan Arjun aayenge....mere Karan Arjun aayenge”. I got up and switched off the television. What crap lady! At least my story above is more believable than yours. I sipped my coffee and waited for husband to get up and tell him how he married me and wasted my life in Kanpur. I should be writing scripts in Bollywood! *Sigh*

 P.S. Just so you know and see above, I really did go to Jaipur :p

Me and my Walking Adventures!

Okay, time again for putting my foot in my mouth so you all get to open yours -mouth, that is, for guffaws.

I go for evening walks is a wide known fact, almost just as wide as my rare rear end that is not being benefitted in the least by it. Such a big, fat HBTI campus that I traverse, teeming with boys and never has there been one treat for my tired eyes tired of looking and not tired by aging, mind you. If I had not known some super adorable engineers through the blogosphere, I would have given up on their fraternity long ago. Anyways, there is this one boy/man in his late twenties who often comes by the same route to walk his dogs. He is reasonably handsome, with a tad hint of mystery and thereby charm. So about a month ago, in a fit of imbalanced inspiration, I updated a Facebook status in his honour which went something like this:

“There’s a cute n very decent looking twenty something of a boy who comes many evenings to walk with his two ferocious dogs n his peon, in the same campus where I go. He was kinda hot till today when he came by himself, holding the leash of both dogs in each hand n a cigarette dangling in his mouth...Ah, the ciggy kinda killed it :/ ”

I wrote, people commented, we created general awareness on important social issues-like discussing the physical perfections of his taut body and how walking can lead to greater avenues especially for those who are single and we forgot about it.

After all, it is the least I thought I could do in lieu of public interest and support the government’s less hyped campaign of cigarette smoking being hazardous to health and add my innovative angle-injurious also in attaining female curiosity. I was serving my society and hence rested with a guilt free heart in peace. But then we don’t always let skeletons rest, do we?

Cut to yesterday evening- Seeya and I were sauntering in our usual manner-me on my legs and she on her pram being pushed around by her otherwise-not-pushy mother. The “Dish” appears again dressed in a chocolate brown t-shirt why is everything tempting all chocolaty? and black shorts covering half of his thighs and thankfully full of the rest of the stuff. The two dogs were snappier than usual, like they say bitches in heat and when a hormone driven motor-biker vroomed past very noisily, the bitches got wilder and barked the life out of me, being just a few steps behind us. It scared me so much that I gripped the pram tighter and almost faltered on the pavement from the main road, assuming I was about to be bitten. First that stupid biker who made me scrunch my nose and eyes with that screeching cacophony and clouded my instinctive actions and then the stupid dogs who barked as though they saw ‘bone in a suit’ in me and effected my sensible reactions! Seeya gave me the most flabbergasted of looks for never had she seen mommy scared of anything else but her.

The young man in question ventured ahead and apologized for I had turned around and given the dirtiest glare to the menagerie no, not the dirty, wild in bed waala dirty look but the dirty you-son-of-a-gun waala look-yes, I have many classifications of all my looks that I might enumerate some other day. Anyways, he came forward, muttering some hurried blah-blah and seeing me take steps further back, the dimwit realized that the object of my anti-affection was at the edges of his limbs-he handed the reins of the equally dumb dog to the equally amused peon.

Remember I spoke of some mystery in the initial paragraphs? Well, I just cracked it even without wearing my Ms. Homes-on-the-prowl hat. He opened his mouth and I saw bad teeth and heard poor diction and not so husky a voice as I had imagined for him. But worse still was when he opened his gap, he also revealed perfectly bad and ungentlemanly manners.

“I’m really sorry. These dogs are sometimes difficult to handle.... (Looking at Seeya)That’s such a sweet kid, waving to everyone every day.”I mumbled something with a smile on my face though heartbeats still sky rocketing due to the sudden and rude shock to my hitherto placid ambling.

“I think you would have noticed me around here, been walking with my dogs for a while.” I pretended surprise. Heeeellooo-what else can a helpless ambushed woman say-I have been checking out for your taut jaw line and the rippling calf muscles and also how your silky hair wave in the breeze, without really looking at you??????????

“And you also noticed that I smoke...” A very mischievous smile spread on his face which I am yet to decode fully. Oh god, now there was almost hot smoke coming out of my ears. I very badly need a leash for my mouth-velcro, zippers, quick fix...kuch bhi chalega.

“Yes, we know of your status. My chachi is on your friends list-Mrs. ABC and apparently I am the only one walking here with two dogs and this is the only place where I managed to smoke sometimes. But thanks to you now everyone at home knows that I do.” Why was there a grin on his face I don't know but my chote-mote se smile suddenly disappeared.

I was about to ask if she told him that I also made “everyone” know that he was kinda hot and cute, but seeing the not-so-friendly demeanour I resisted the urge. What’s with men, they only pick up those words of mine that suit them and what about all my hidden implications?

I didn’t know what to say or do now. How was I supposed to know that people pay so much attention to my stupid statuses and also lagao so much dimaag on them to lead to stupider inferences? Mental notes to myself:

1. Do not add students’ moms to my Fb account.

2. Think of self interest before public interest.

3. Don’t stop to talk to strangers on walks even if they are cute...you never know how you may have unknowingly rubbed them.

4. Speak something to someone while he is looking at you for a retort instead of making mental notes.

So as he stood there waiting for some kind of explanation, I managed to word just an aaaa....mmmm....Though what I did manage to do very inconspicuously was, give a slight kick of my toe from the bottom on to the seat on which rested Seeya’s bums so that she grew restless and began to holler -that always works my friends-beloved in a horny mood post your putting baby to sleep and thou art not: fear not, just give a nudge with the feet to the cot and watch the baby wake and beloved sleep and you rest in peace!

“I am sorry too then and I really must go.” I whisked past leaving him saying something, I couldn’t hear and didn’t care. I soon realized that those dogs were not snappier naturally but perhaps made to be just so that he would find a suitable intro line to vent out. Though this would go down as the worst opening ever made-Omg! What revengeful streaks for someone trying to do good to the society! Ram, Ram! Ghor Kalyug!

Phew! One more flirt interest crossed off from my already flagging list. I need a new muse and so badly. Someday the dumb head would come and thank me when his cigarette smoking friends would rot in lung wards and his family would give him the most unspoilt munda tag. It was all due to one harmless little status that a beautiful woman updated one evening.

P.S. In case I was missed in the first half of the month, I had gone holidaying with beloved and Seeya to Goa and this was my first proper holiday after almost three years...yiy yiy yiy...Here are some pictures of the same though put up in such a haphazard way coz of my inability to put them up in a better way, read that as any other way!:(

Happy weekend! :-)

 

My Weekend Get-away to Orchha!

About 20 kms from Jhansi, amidst rolling hills and scrubby dhak forests, lies the riverside township of Orchha. Located at the banks of Betwa river, Orchha was once the capital of Bundela kings and hence a major tourist destination of Madhya Pradhesh, lined with architecturally beautiful temples and monuments and a handful of super comfy resorts. Our destination for the two days get-away was Hotel Amar Mahal, just a stone’s throw away from the impressive cenotaphs on the Betwa River and providing panoramic views of the breath taking scenes around. The hotel is built and decorated in the traditional Bundelkhand architectural style and hence offers you a luxurious stay in almost the laps of royalty.

It’s been ages since I have been aching for a holiday and grilling my beloved with slow persistent torture, almost bordering to being a nag for it, till the poor victim finally gave in. We bargained to come to reasonable terms- I demanded a full-fledged, long holiday to somewhere far off where I could satisfy the exploration germs wriggling in every pore of my body; he offered a weekend break to some place near, where we just go, dump in ourselves and relax for a couple of days. Phew! Beggars can’t be choosers and with a deep sigh, this time I gave in. Another couple friends were roped in and since I thoroughly enjoy their company, my peppy genes finally began to bounce. Though just a couple of days before on my birthday, they came over to our house with their two little kids to give us a taste of how the holiday would be with those pair of mini terrorists around. Within a matter of a few minutes they ransacked my room and the little one (who was turning two just the next day) managed to scream his guts and our ears out...sigh! Sigh! Never mind I said summoning all my bravery at my urgent service...wahan ja kar he samjhenge ab!

So I cancelled my tuitions on Gandhi Jayanti and the day after. My kiddos asked me “Ma’m Friday is 2nd October so no classes, but why a holiday on 3rd October too?” A wise guy among them replied, “Ma’m is celebrating Gandhi Jayanti for two days...” I burst out laughing, unable to control the chirpy tickle that had set within! I also called on duty my culinary skills and managed to contrive some mayonnaise sandwiches and as for the rest of the knick knacks...why in god’s name have they opened bakeries and general stores? For a two days trip, we were carrying ammunition of snacks to feed us all for a week...this despite the fact that we had an all meals inclusive package.

Though scheduled to start at 7 a.m., we managed to leave Kanpur at around 8. 45 a.m. Slow start...but a start nevertheless! Watching Ganga maiyya being left behind, brought in the feeling of wow, I am finally out of town for a holi-holiday...hurray, hurray! After a literally rocking ride of not such smooth streets with strategically placed rocks and ditches all over, the five and a half hours somehow passed amidst laughters and jokes and also chips and namkeen bits sticking out of our hair and surfacing suddenly from some part of our body...we managed to enter the throes of Hotel Amar Mahal at around 2. 30p.m.

While the sight of the almost dead city had dulled our spirits, for it is barely extended to a radius of 10 kms and so less populated that you begin to wonder if the national population control drive was followed painstakingly only in Orchha...but the sight of a fort cum castle like resort managed to uplift things appropriately. Our bookings were confirmed and soon we were escorted to our rooms, passing a few expiry date firangs on the way. Expiry date bole to...those 50 plus generation, with one feet in the grave, who decide to travel the world before they eventually journey down to their sepulchres and some managing to do so even on their way! So there went the hopes and expectations of my dear beloved to come across some hot goore maim tanning herself on the pool side and just might in a moment of insanity ask him to rub the sun tan lotion on her back. His bubble burst, I was the only consolation at hand, and so we were decidedly in the room for the next couple of hours, discovering passionately what we’ve been digging since nine years of our matrimony! Umeed pe duniya kaayam hain...maybe we just might stumble upon a new ‘eureka’ moment! Since it’s the city of excavations, we must put in our suitable contribution.

The pool side view was awesome and all through the way I had been luring and beckoning the rain gods to join us and I had promised to give in and get drenched in his arms if he chose to wet me! And even the rain gods obliged...males just can’t resist the sight if women bathing in the tumbling waters with clothes sticking to their skins...and the rain god proved his masculinity.

The weather became awesome, with cool breeze blowing and the floor of heaven being captivatingly wrapped in dark fluffy clouds, as we got dressed to click pictures (face book uploads are always in the back of my mind...at least those who couldn’t accompany us might as well get a burning, jealousy-wrapped taste of how we had a blast...next time ke victims to join me for a holiday get confirmed in this way!) All the rooms face a spacious chowk having a Mughal garden laid out in it...the place was lush green, intricate carving and paint sculpting and nakashhi adorning the walls. It was time to eat, drink and be merry because it had begun to drizzle and we just gazed at the beauty and peace that enveloped us from all sides.

The next morning...I could barely restrain my excitement and after much patience that I extended till 9 am and couldn’t contain any more of it in my little body, I woke up everyone else. We had planned to go for a swim! Now, I can’t swim even if you put me on gun point or tell me that mother earth was put on stake...I would rather hit the trigger of the gun myself or apologize to mother earth for not being Dharm paaji and save her from kutte kamineys. But that doesn’t mean I can’t wade my way in the soft flowing water...which comes up only till the neck. Now, I also can’t dare to ever get into a swim suit...which is actually a favour for you lesser mortals for I don’t wish to bring about a mass slaughter caused by shock and heart attacks...not because I am drop dead gorgeous in a teeny weenie bit (oh...sigh! sigh!) but because there’s a limit to how much flesh even the male ogling eyes can take!

So all dressed as we were, the two of us heavy duty females along with the men in question, who stripped to their bare essentials...ahem, ahem...we jumped into the pool...Na, na...all the water didn’t come out thereafter...it just flirted around us gently touching the right curves and playfully wetting us to the core....PLEASE...no puns intended!
So after throwing my arms and legs around in mad abandon...in about an hour we decided to spare the firangs of watching the torture of bloody Indians dirtying the pool with our lack of swimsuit sense and our dirty minds...we got out! But what fun it had been!

We also visited the famous Betwa River that flowed past big boulder of rocks and some literally “shitty” stuff of human and animal discard. Not such a great way to spend time by distressing the nostrils and tormenting the eyes...we rushed back to the retreat soon enough. I also gifted my dear beloved a Kairali massage, hoping I’d be returned the favour...in any kind what so ever...but I got a peck on the cheek and an agonising recital of how good it was! Since it was a male masseur, I didn’t really insist on his allowing me to experience the performance first hand...unke khushi mein he mere khushi hain soch kar shaant ho gaye yeh Bharatiye naari!

So like this the two days whisked past. With about 70 photographs and a bundleful of happy memories and great one-liners through the journey...we finally returned to home sweet home. It was a balm that healed my wounds...but as I write this I feel my body twitch again...some muscles seem to be vibrating unceasingly and some nerves crumbling....OH MY GOD...the balm seems to have been evaporated...it’s that same ache...the ache to go on a holiday again!