“I need a vacation from my vacation,” moaned too many of my friends when I ran into them at a fancy South Mumbai bash. I’d been back home just one day when I took a deep dive head first into this social must-attend. Held in a mansion the kinds of which Mumbai will never see again, it was full throttle. Captains of industry, glamorous housewives-turned-philanthropists, the mommy brigade — it was old money meets new money at its best. But even a day back in the bay can be defeating. Domestic conundrums vied for attention with laments of hectic schedules. “Next week is crazy work travel, I can’t even bear to think about it,” exclaimed Hot Shot Executive. I empathised. My month at a glance is a travel agent’s delight and a scheduling nightmare. January takes me to Jaipur, Chennai, Davos, Jaipur and Delhi.
No wonder I savoured the last of my dreamy Sri Lanka sojourn. After a week at a big resort, it was simply marvellous to have our own villa on the beach in Galle. An added bonus was that up and down this beach strip were friends from London, Colombo and Hong Kong. The Brits seem to have a huge pull towards the area. We attended a rowdy dinner party hosted by our English friends (too much rosé!) who mentioned that Rebekah Brooks (the woman at the centre of the 2011 News Corp phone hacking scandal) was also vacationing there with a bunch of English aristos.
Why are none of these people coming with their tourism money to India for some R&R? It may have something to do with our lack of beautiful rent-worthy sea front homes. We seem to be the only country with CRZ laws, but perhaps that’s a good thing. Knowing the way rampant, unchecked development takes place here, why risk damaging our coastal beauty? Already in Galle we saw a high-rise apartment dwelling coming up on the beach. Sigh. There goes the neighbourhood.
Before I embarked on my frenzied travel schedule though, it was time to redeem my hair — which felt like straw and looked worse — from all the swimming, sun and sand. My girlfriends and I coordinated to do a deep conditioning. Thanks to our resident hair care entrepreneur, Vasu Gandhi, we indulged in a SOVA ritual, which involved a 16-ingredient hair oil massage, replete with steaming the hair with fragrant herbs. I felt like I was in a fancy Ayurveda ad, the kind one sees on TV. Whatever idle chatter we were indulging in (OK, laser hair removal, if you must know) ceased as the fragrance wafted through and calmed the nerves. This was followed by a regenerating, cleansing shampoo, and an intense barley and rosemary hair mask. By the end of the wash and blow dry, I felt like Dimple Kapadia — with a head full of lustrous, abundant locks, I could model for any hair care ad! Isn’t it amazing what a good head of hair does to a person’s self esteem? We did the requisite impromptu photo shoot for Insta (with faces obscured, of course!) and I felt ready to face the world anew. Jaipur, here I come.
This fortnightly column tracks the indulgent pursuits of the one-percenters.
