Happy New Picnic

As kids, the three of us siblings must have been a real handful for my mother. Mere mention of a long travel and she would be visibly petrified. I have been known to send fellow travelers scampering for cover with my threats to throw up on them, because I didn’t like the way they smelled. Both my brothers played passing the parcel, except the parcel in this case was called “bawling to the top of your vocal cords for no apparent reason”. Then there were the numerous pee-pee breaks which were nuisance enough on road trips but a serious threat to the sanity of my poor mother in long distance train journeys. Besides, we (especially our father) loved the hawkers in those trains. Since eating and bawling at the same time wasn’t exactly feasible, we were occasionally allowed to eat dirty food. The pickiness which so dominated meal times at home was gone with the wind in trains. Our tummies however, had been too well and overly protected all along, so that sort of food did its magic soon enough. Then came the worst part, as you may imagine, given the state of toilets in sleeper class compartments of our trains. Enough said, you get the idea!

Picnics however, were another thing altogether. We were still a beastly lot to haul all the way up to the destination, but the considerably shorter distance clinched the deal. Most of our picnic haunts were located at walk-able distances. We usually went as a big party with more kids and their moms from the neighborhood. We could play as much and as long as we liked, while the moms busily knitted, chatted or fixed sandwiches and Rasna. Everybody came home pleasantly tired.
The inexplicably happy thrill I feel at the thought of a picnic even now must certainly have a good deal to do with those sweet carefree days.
So, on the long weekend for new years’, it was picnic that was on our minds. To tell you the truth, I was being a hopeless daydreamer. How we would stroll in the lush greenery, then bring out the tiny outdoor grill, make some sandwiches, collect a basketful of flowers, well well, if wishes were horses, I would own a stud farm by now.

Hyderabad is not the best place in the world for a quiet, green get away. We (me and Anurag) finally agreed on this seemingly neat place called Manjeera Barrage and Bird Sanctuary, not very far from home. A bit of fussy, meticulous packing of food, books, mats and whatnot by me, and a great deal of TBHPing for the directions by Anurag, we were get-set-ready-GO!

We couldn’t have picked a better place really. Quiet, cool and green, though the roads leave you asking for a lot more. The place is just off the Sangareddy town. There was hardly any water in the barrage, though we saw a great many birds.

The crocodile breeding center and environment education center is a small but well maintained place.

We found a cool spot, spread out the mat, fixed some sandwiches and fruits, and simply relaxed. It was really quite restful to look at tall grass flowers nodding away at the slight breeze, little fearless birdies going about their business, warm sunlight stealing through treetops on that cool winter day. I even tried reading a few pages from the Sea of Poppies, though I gave up soon because the crocodiles were being less lazy and more camera-friendly just then. We couldn’t find a good enough place for lighting a fire for the grill (alas!) though, it was really unnecessary on second thoughts. May be some other time.

Towards late afternoon, the bustle began to increase and the quiet charm of the place began to dull a little. So we packed up again, took a good look around and hopped back in to the car, happy and refreshed.