Alfresco entertainment

Much before the magic of movies under the stars at the Rooftop Gardens at Wafi began, we were experiencing the same in the many places we lived in as army families.

Every army base had an open air cinema, where we congregated several times a week for movie viewing and socialising. One day of the week was for English movies, another day for Hindi and once a week a film in a regional language which could be Bengali or Bhojpuri or Marathi.

We usually opted for the first two but sometimes found ourselves in the alfresco theatre when we'd got the day wrong. As we sat down to enjoy ourselves, we found ourselves struggling to decipher the screen credits. When nothing seemed familiar, we realised our mistake. But going back home was too much of an effort. So, we stayed back and talked and giggled our way through the length of the movie. I am sure we must have missed some Oscar-worthy performances but we were having too much fun off-screen.

So great was our enjoyment at these outdoor venues that we put up with the vagaries of nature without a complaint. I remember bitterly cold winters in northern Indian towns when we wrapped ourselves in layers of warm clothing before making our way to this place of entertainment. There was the usual bravado with the children trying to convince one another they really didn't feel the cold although the shiver that coursed its way through our bodies belied our bravery.

In summer it was the other extreme. Wilting heat and the music of mosquitoes. That was one of the few times when one opted to sit with the parents as they had the privilege of being kept cool by strategically placed pedestal fans. We would sit in this pleasant spot for a while until the compulsion to be a little farther away from parental supervision made us return to our circle of friends. Braving the heat and pesky creatures was a small price to pay for the pleasure of being in one's peer group.

I do remember one Hindi film which I had been told was scary. Convinced this was a ploy by the siblings to deprive me of this outing, I tagged along. Halfway through the viewing, at a particularly suspenseful moment, I suddenly found myself on the lap of an adult in the next seat. I had literally jumped with fright. That was one of those embarrassing moments that was recounted time and again by my family to whoever cared to listen.

Like all children, what we also looked forward to was the snacks we could tuck into. I have never tasted anything like the hotdogs we ate then. There's something about memory that seems to cast a spell on times past. Perhaps that's why I fondly imagine I have never savoured anything that came close to that blissful experience. I also remember saving some of these treats for our beloved dogs at home who, we were convinced, were being shortchanged by being left behind. Or at least that was our noble intention. But sometimes, as the evening wore on, the snack seemed to burn a hole in our pockets.

A nibble or two later we would convince ourselves that what was left was more than enough for the canine treat. Of course, not all of us were so selfish. One of my sisters seemed to have Herculean will power and was one of the few who kept a sizeable portion uneaten until we reached home.

I recently went to one of these open air army theatres on my last holiday home. Everything has changed and yet is the same. There is a huge choice of cuisines but I could still see children settling in groups and batting away a mosquito or two.