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All I had had were the small multicoloured lozenges, intended to make me feel less nauseous.... We kept on moving higher towards the hotel, but it never seemed to come... My mother, as usual her chirpy self was busy talking to a bengali lady who sat beside her... this lady was quite what my mother wasn't... she was slim, wore trousers and a coat.... not a saree and two sweaters, one inside and one on top..... Despite my sensation to throw up, I couldn't help but notice how poised and polished the lady, Mrs. Sen seemed.... I kept glancing towards her, admiring her long hair, left to slide all over her back, unlike my mother who had her curly hair tied into a neat bun.....

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My mother had been coaxing my father to organize a foreign trip for quite some time... and finally he'd given in.... maybe because he too was tired of having to go to the same old hotel in puri, we went to each holiday..... I was only six.... too young to really take in every view I'd see, and old enough to at least understand what the whole frenzy about going abroad was about.... The next few days, my parents were visible only at two places, home- discussing clothes and food that needed to be packed,( yes food too, for my mother was of the belief that european food would undoubtedly leave us with upset stomachs or a bad bout of food poisoning), and the travel agency- where they'd spend the rest of the day.

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Mr. Patel, with his seven membered family , all equally spherical in shape, were the first ones in our tour group to approach us.... and my mother hit it off immediately with his wife.... just because she too shared the same sentiments regarding food as my mother did.. they'd packed about 50 packets of theplas to last them for the entire fourteen day trip.... The rest arrived, some in deiiferent flights and we waited ofr them.... one thing was sure, they'd done their homework well, even the fattest of the aunties wore the tightest of pants and shirt... my mother was the only odd one out.... I tried to stand with my father whenever possible.....

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Mrs. Sen offered me a chocolate she'd bought from a chocolate factory in Germany... My mother had disapproved of buying too many chocolates , and we stuck to toblerone... but Mrs. Sen, bought a whole bag full of chocolates of various kinds.... Mr. Sen, on the other hand seemed aloof, preferred to walk on his own, go out for shopping on his own, even so much so that at dinner time he's sit at a table isolated from the rest........

Mrs. Sen was the jovial kind.... spoke to everyone, ate the theplas offered by the gujjus, and even offered not to eat non vegetarian food the one time she sat with them for dinner.... My mother saw Mr. sen, sitting alone and dragged me and my father to the table.... It felt weird to be in the company of someone who clearly didn't want anybody else's.... but I kept holding the chicken leg in my hand and ate ..... My dad began the convesation, asking him what he did and whethere he liked his job..... He answered everything politely but refused to participate in a moment's more of any verbal exchange.....

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It was the yacht ride I was looking forward to.... it was spectacular with the water sparkling in the moonlight and everyone high on happiness.... all except Mr. Sen and my mother.... She had had an argument with my father over a suitcase which was overfull and needed to be unpacked and repacked.... My father had his share of drinks and went ahead with his camera and danced and took photos..... I danced to some punjabi tune they'd been playing, for about the 10th time.... My mother sat with Mr. Sen.... Mr. sen was talking..... quite a lot

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My mother bought herself a pair of trousers, and a white shirt and wore it for the first time in her life , on the day of the grand show in Paris.... She looked embarrased, but while getting into the bus, I heard Mr. Sen telling her that she looked absolutely stunning.... I was glad too.... at least now she wouldn't look so weird amongst the rest....My mother blushed and got in...

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My father always was the kind to go out on treks on his own and enjoyed anyone who showed even a little bit of interest in observing the nature... He gathered quite a fan following, with the gujjus and Mrs. Sen all joining him on a trek a little away from the hotel in switzerland.....

I was down with fever so couldn't go... My mother stayed back and so did Mr. sen.... She went to the coffee shop with him, walked over to the souvenier shop next to hotel and bought identical bells for their respective homes..... My mother seemed different... differently happy altogether...

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I wanted to sleep desperately and since th flight was going almost totally empty, I decided to go to the middle row and sleep with my legs stretched..... all the other kids seemed to think my idea was the greatest one anyone could come up with and the entire midddle row was booked....

My mother sat watching a bollywood movie on the tv screen, got bored after a while and took up a magazine and read it.....

We finally reached the departure area in Mumbai and now we had to part.... Mr. Sen came up to me and handed over a small gift... " It's our parting gift", he said looking at my mother... Mrs. Sen as usual spoke of how lovely the entire trip had been, how nice we had been and how horrible the gujjus had been, creating a ruckus over veg and non veg at every meal.....

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On reaching home, I opened the gift uncle had given me.....

It had two bells, one blue and one red, both which he'd bought with my mother for "his" home....