What Happens In Shimla, Is Actually Pointless


June first week in Delhi broke temperature records in terms of being the hottest week since some random historical event, even though the normal population does not understand this intellectual nonsense. We only understand the temperature scale ranging from ‘Empty Scrotal Sac’-level cold to ‘more unbearable than Sajid Khan’s humor’-level hot. Hence, it makes sense to go to a relatively colder place for vacation. I went on a small trip to Shimla, and on the basis of first hand experience, let me tell you that if you want to go to a cold place, with natural scenery and peace and serenity, go to the middle of Pacific ocean and drown yourself, because Shimla is just Palika Bazar with a slightly more difficult terrain and better dressed people.

People (actually Wikipedia and a few travel sites) say that Shimla is the beautiful queen of valleys, and I would have realised that if me and the friends had not been busy in giving each other elbow-nudges and saying “Bhai wo ladki dekh!”, and “Abe saale sharam kar ek bachche ki maa hai wo”. That’s only about the guys because somehow, the combination of impulsive shopping, thousand-poses-a-minute photography and getting guys to walk unbelievable inhuman distance upslope is a perfect day for women.

Shimla is also one of the world’s leading cities in terms of animal cruelty, and I am not talking about only husbands and boyfriends. There is horse-riding on a slope full of animal excreta, on which you spend almost the entire ride praying to God not to let you fall in the ground because deep inside you know that the shit you will fall on will be nothing compared to what your friends will give you if that happens. Also, it is not a horse that you ride. It’s a mule, and the feeling is like buying a ticket to an Arijit concert and then sitting through an hour and a half of Anu Malik while he murders music as we know it. Also, the mule is not an intelligent animal. It blindly follows the one in front of it by, and I’m not kidding, sniffing its rear end (aka ass in popular culture), which is the entire principle of hierarchy at the Indian National Congress.

Shimla, in its days of youth and glory, was a preferred honeymoon destination because it offered a complete package to newly-weds: romantic view from hotel rooms, cold temperature, and pharmaceutical shops near the medical college IGMC (#IfYouKnowWhatIMean). Though having seen the crowd there, very soon it will come down to things such as couples sharing rooms with only a curtain in between beds to refrain them from each other’s live shows. If there is no noise behind a curtain, be assured that they just returned from Mall road, because though there may be an immense amount of will, but only a limited amount of stamina, that a man can possess.

Being brutally honest, shimla did offer a change of scenery for a good party. The hangover and the mountain sickness combined made up for a heart-wrenching story of nausea. Thank God for Pantoprozoles.


About Ankit Sharma

Doctor and Drummer in making... Movie-buff since birth.
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