Kishore Singh: An 'un'-friendly vacation

The last time I took a break was -when? "Never," says my wife, given as always to hyperbole, and reminding me that visits to my parents in Bikaner "are no holiday, so there!". I tell her that spending time with her brother in Miami was no lark either, and before we know it, we're hurling pots and pans at each other - metaphorically, of course. Actually, Miami wasn't too bad - though, technically, we didn't actually see Miami because Indian families like you to spend all your time indoors gossiping about other family members rather than at the actual destination itself.

It's almost a year to date that we were in Marrakesh, though recalling that trip leads to an epic family fight each time. Getting everyone together for a family vacation means negotiating time schedules away from office for everyone, always a hazardous task. Having been able to manage a week, most of which was spent travelling - the transfers adding up to more hours at airports than at the destination - it is a painful reminder of bad planning gone further awry.

I've been obsessing about a vacation for a month now, a physical craving to make a break of it and run away somewhere far from work, a holiday without internet or mobile connectivity, without newspaper or television. "Burma," I suggested to the kids, "Laos, Cambodia" - holidays bear the burden of collective decision-making in the family - which they shrugged off as a joke. "Seriously," asked my son, almost as if I'd recommended purgatory. My daughter wanted shopping malls; my son rated nightlife his number one priority; and even though my wife can generally be placated with museums, she wasn't sure she could take so much solitude either.

I thought the mountains would provide the perfect retreat, especially with it snowing, so there wouldn't be other visitors, at which all three chorused that I needed to see a therapist. "Whoa," I protested, but was drowned out. If I needed a holiday, I didn't have dibs on the destination. But, apparently, friends did. Suggestions began to pour in from my wife's kitty gang on places they'd just returned from - "London, darling!", or "Mauritius - it's absolutely divine", warning us off Latin America "now that Zika is here" - the disease causing upsets even in Europe, making "Bangkok the best" with its shopping, pubbing and sightseeing, even though it's as predictable as going to Goa over an extended weekend.

What I hadn't counted on was suggestions getting converted into action with my wife's current bestie, Sarla, who - before you could say visa - had decided what we required was not a "boring" family vacation as much as one with friends. Old neighbours and acquaintances were summoned, itineraries drawn up, and without any say in the matter, I found myself signing a cheque for a break in Bali that I hadn't planned on but now find myself committed to.

It's going to be a jamboree. I can predict the misplaced baggage, lost tickets, schedules gone haywire, the sulks and tantrums, the backbiting and nastiness. Woe be it if I want to sit quietly by the pool and read a book. Holidaying with Sarla will mean puffing and panting through the scenic spots to arrive for large meals and larger pub crawls, breakfast giving way to lunch to dinner without a pause to digest it all. But there's still some time before we're deposited at her doorstep for a preparatory break. Though, on second thought, it might be better to save it up for what follows our "un"-friendly vacation.