Indian Families Making A Splash Together

Life is cool by the pool. Plus I love the image of a pool vacation - bikini babes sipping rainbow-coloured drinks, toned men doing the laps, cute kids learning to stay afloat because obviously it’s a luxury resort where you don’t find sweaty obese men or women with armpit hair.

So I’m at a resort for a quiet festive weekend, only to find large family groups holidaying together. Delhi/NCR has discovered new ways to celebrate festivals and birthdays. No ‘kitchen kalesh’ about who cooks – everyone out for a short staycation. Bade papa, mummy ji, bhaiya, bhabhi and cousins pack bags to make waves together.

Indian families vacationing together

Little surprise that I see Bade Papa’s family from Faridabad, an industrial city known for car chases and highway shootings hit the pool. Wearing speedos and black goggles, a bunch of enthusiastic gorillas of different sizes enter the pool - one splash at a time. For some inexplicable reason, this cheerful lot is not there to swim but have beer in the pool and discuss the tractor business.

A younger cousin wielding the camera is looking for a perfect shot of this magnum opus playing next to me. The cross between Sanjay Bhansali and Steven Spielberg is choreographing pictures of noisy men holding beer mugs on their heads. While this is going on, bade papaji quietly slips into the pool in his boxers. The guard blows a whistle, saying this is not allowed. 

If you are a writer of nay denomination, you can’t miss this. The best thing is to act like you are so engrossed in your book that you are half dead on the lounge chair. Not that anyone cares. 

This is when a young guy in the group decides to call his wife. ‘Come na, so what if papaji is here? Wear my shirt and come. Take it off when you are in the pool,’ he whispers. I’m assuming she asks which one, because almighty as my witness, he tells her to wear the black one from the Maldives. She is reluctant. But he insists. ‘If you are feeling awkward, get mummyji along.’

Soon two elderly ladies wearing oversized men shorts and tees walk in followed by a girl in a swimsuit. Watching the senior ladies enter the pool with great difficulty, the lifeguard rushes out from his cabin. 

‘Mam, you can buy swimsuits from the shop over there,’ he says.

‘We are not swimming, just sitting by the edge,’ mummy ji gives him a look that can melt polar ice caps. Buaji agrees.

This gives the young man an opportunity to take his wife flashing red and white bangles to the other end of the pool. He’s teaching her how to swim and she giggles like a schoolgirl every time he says something about the breaststroke. 

‘Let them enjoy,’ mummyji says changing her tone oh so sweetly. She narrates how she wore a kurta without a bottom in Singapore but papaji made things easier by buying her a dress. 

As my crisp image of a pool vacation turns into a soggy biscuit, a part of me envies watching the big family enjoy a splash together. Swimming their troubles away. A family that swims together stays together, right?

Views expressed by the author are their own