Every year-end, as we await the New Year’s Eve, some enthusiastic heads in our friends’ group (the Dover Gang) are abuzz with the excitement of thinking up a new theme for the party. This time NVani & RVani found a small and secluded place virtually unknown among Singapore’s general populace (except probably among the golf aficionados), in a tourist beehive that Malaysia is. Located in the middle of opulent natural lush greenery of palm oil plantations, mangrove swamps and virgin tropical forests in the state of Johor in Malaysia, Sebana Cove is a place to relax and party.
V&V wanted the party to be different from our usual “get-together-at-somebody’s-apartment-and-blast-the-hell-out-of-the-neighbours¨ theme. They wanted us to let our hairs down, kick-off our shoes, role up our sleeves, and learn to enjoy momentary pleasures that we might have somehow forgotten in our hurly-burly, heltery-skeltery lives.
They arranged for transport and stay in the resort. And so, on Dec 30, the V&V families together with Raja & Kalpana setoff from Tanah Merah ferry terminal on a 45 minutes journey to Sebana Cove. Five more families: Madhu, Saras, Chitti & Pinki; Aravind, Roopa & Shravan; Umesha & Anu; Guruprasad & Shubha; and Girisha & Lakshmi were to join us the next day at Sebana Cove for the eve.
We reached Sebana Cove islands at 1:00 PM, finished our customs formalities at the Malaysian immigration office adjoining the resort, checked in at the hotel lobby, and got into a golf buggy to be driven to Raja & Kalpana’s room first. Our apartment, in the meanwhile, was being cleaned up for us. On the way, the air was cool and breezy, even in the sunny afternoon. Once there, Kalpana whipped out her succulent Idlies, each one of them pre-smeared with delicious red Chutney. We ate them in the balcony overlooking a nice little pond inhabited by fishes, tadpoles and tortoises. Presently, Raja’s peripheral vision caught sight of some frolicking frauliens lurking at the back of the pond. Kalpana got suspicious of Raja’s interests, especially at these times when, according to her, he tends to linger longer on the subject of 7-year-itch. The Idlies, however, only succeeded in stirring up our hunger.
A few hours later, after lunch at the restaurant, over some very hot and chilly Pasta that was returned with no thanks, very chewy Maharajah Ayam, ordinary and tasteless Nasi Goreng Istimewa, and not so bad Pizza, we returned to our apartment which was by now ready for us. The 2-bed room apartment was a well-built, brick and teak construction with high ceilings, plenty of air, and clean tiles. The living room was spacious and appeared to have been built for parties. The kitchen was well equipped. The back door opened up to the still waters of the cove with a yacht in sight moored to the jetty. Yonder, there was a small hill that, Ramesha thought, looked like Kondajji hills in Davangere.
By late afternoon, we were ready for a swim in the pool beside the resort lobby. Manu had his Ducky float ready for this occasion, and Nayantara had her new teeny-weeny bikini on. The adults looked a little podgy with their protruding potbellies and bottoms, and had some trouble getting used to the cold water of the pool. The two kids took to water like fish. They splashed and rollicked with glee.
At night, back in our apartment, over beer and dinner of homemade Gojju Anna and Om Anna, we planned for the party next day.
On day 2, we woke up refreshed and with renewed vigor because of the tranquil surroundings. After our perfunctory coffee, Ramesha and I took Manu and Nayantara on a walk at the back of the house, investigating the flora and fauna in the backyard, including a snail, broken tiles from the roof in the aftermath of a storm the previous week, ants, funny looking flies riding on one another’s back (but wait, they were just playing husband and wife), and a dwarf jack fruit tree looking good for “Halasina Huli”. We then had a leisurely breakfast in the restaurant, the hallmark of which was a particularly tasty Danish butter scone.
After the heavy breakfast, the men felt lethargic, and with the pretext of entertaining the kids, retired to the cool indoors of the Kiddie Land. In the afternoon, after a strenuous but healthful process of annealing our bodies with Sauna and Cold Shower admixture, we had a long and restful siesta. In the evening, we helped V&V decorate the place for the ensuing hedonistic pleasures in the name of New Year’s Eve.
The rest of the folk from Singapura arrived at about 7 PM, a little tired and irritated by all the carrying of food and drinks that was asked of them. However, with a nice shower and change of clothing they were ready for the long night ahead.
Now, there is a lot to be said about the clothing. It was decided by V&V that it has to be “trendy” this year, in contrast to the “ethnic” of the previous year. There were sincere attempts by some at being trendy. Especially the ladies. They put in much effort and took much pleasure in dressing up for the occasion, as can be expected. Shubha Guruprasad wore an elegant gown, high heeled shoes, and a hip poise about her, and was judged the best dressed female. At the other end of the spectrum, there was our Raja, the King of Buffoonery. With a zany zest for clownish costume, he hit upon a demented idea of putting on Kalpana’s lacy, wavy, silky and salacious sleeveless top on his one-leg-half-one-leg-full trouser. With tufts of thick black body hair jutting out of his nincompoop of a costume at unexpected places, he looked an amalgamation of Goundamani, Senthil, Esakki, and all the other Tamil movie comedians rolled in one. With high octave shrieks, belligerent bleats, hyena-like calls, he commented, cajoled and cat-called the group into unending laughter. He was adjudged the best dressed (more aptly breast-dressed, in my view) male of the group by the females.
In the middle of the spectrum were the rest of us, notable ones being Madhu with his black dress and a beard as if mourning for the the past year, Chitti as a fairy with her magic wand, Saras looking like Cleopatra to me in a cheetah-like dress, Umesha dressed as his idle, Govinda, in saffron trousers, blue T-shirt and necklace, and Girisha with a long and designer “naama” on his forehead.
The kids were dressed as cartoon characters. Manu as Superman, Nayantara as a Dalmatian puppy, and Shravan as Tigger the tiger cub, and Pinki as Baby Bop.
All in all, the whole place seemed to be swarming with earthly and unearthly creatures.
There was a great deal of photography going on, with almost everybody with one kind of camera or another, shooting at everybody else. There was much clicking, whirring, zooming, peeping, peering until all possible angles, of all possible parts of the anatomy, of all possible people in the gang were photographed.
In the meanwhile, a few members of the group went about sticking some small bits of paper to others’ back. It was then made known to the group that this was infact a game they have to play next. The game involved guessing the name of celebrity on the paper stuck to each person’s back by asking other members questions. Incidentally, the name stuck to my back was Silk Smitha. This was probably the handiwork of somebody who knew my you-know-what inclinations.
Punctuating these games were dancing, kicking, shaking to songs from Dilse, Michael Jackson, Boney M and Venga Boys, from star performers like Umesha, Girisha, Madhu, Raja and yours truly, all led by our versatile Chitti.
A game of tremulous laughter called Ha-ha was played next. Members sit in circles and are supposed to keep saying ha-ha in turns at increasing counts, with a straight face, without laughing or smiling. The originator of the game, RameshVani was the first to be eliminated. Pretty soon others were eliminated too, except for Arvind, Kalpana and myself. In the ensuing contest, ha-ha took on various formats – as a carnatic recital, a concerto, a Sama Veda chanting, and what have you. Finally, Arvind and I were eliminated too and Kalpana emerged victorious. Who would believe that Kalpana would avoid smiling for so long!
In another game suggested by Kalpana, the group arranged itself into a circle. A long and tongue twisting sentence is whispered into one member’s ear who in turn would repeat whatever he can into the next one and so on until it goes one full circle. The fun part is how such a sentence gets murdered and mangled in the process. The sentence suggested by Kalpana went something like this: “Chanduki chachane chanduki chachiko chandni rathme chandni chowkeme chandiki chamachse chutney chatayi”. When it came out at the other end it had become “Chanduki chachane chanduki chachiko chandni rathme kardiya!”. Obviously the work of some “poli hudguru” in the gang.
The next contest was a skit. Our resident comptroller of examination, VaniRamesh divided us into 4 groups. Each group picked a topic from the basket. Over dinner of Sayali’s Chapathis, Chole, Alu Sabji, and rice, we planned and schemed on our topics. The topics were varied: Say Yes to Diapers, MRT Ride, Kabhi Kushi Kabhi BUM, and If You Were A Celebrity. Sparks of theatrical genius were displayed, notably, Arvind’s choreography and direction, Girisha’s dramatic outbursts and “porki” dancing as a fan of Purachchi Talaivi Jayalalitha, and Madhu’s rendition of an anxious father. Chitti compeered the whole affair, showing her presence of mind and flair in the prize distribution ceremony.
At the stroke 12 o’clock, order descended to chaos again, and everybody let loose and went wild. The event was finally ended with a customary “Tikilona” ceremony, where many a bum broke in vain over un-bursting balloons.
The next day the ferry was to leave at 3 PM, and there was a flurry of activity at sauna, swimming, cycling, and table tennis. There was even an impromptu Dover Table Tennis Competition held. When it was time to leave, Sebana Cove’s salubrious surroundings left an unforgettable mark in our minds.
~*~
Eclectic Musings by Ranga Sitaram 