It began as a simple family getaway during Diwali weekend, but ended up myself thinking about life itself.

Resort weekend stay: This Diwali vacation, our family came together after many months apart. My daughter from Delhi, with her two children, flew down to Trivandrum, Kerala, India. My other two children, settled in Thiruvananthapuram, we in Changanacherry, we decided to spend the weekend at a resort in Kollam, a halfway point between our worlds and, as it turned out, a mirror to life itself.

Among my seven grandchildren, the elder four are studying in consecutive standards, from first to fourth. They were thrilled at the idea of a holiday together. Their excitement was infectious; we could sense it from the moment they met in the resort lobby. They ran around with abandon, their laughter bouncing off the walls and spilling into the courtyards.

Our rooms were adjacent, connected by a door. For the children, it became a portal of endless possibility, they darted in and out, creating their own realm of play and discovery.

While we adults fumbled with switches, remotes in the room and the complex array of knobs and buttons in the shower, the children took charge. Their digital upbringing had equipped them with a confidence in experimentation, they pressed, tapped, and turned without hesitation, always ready to learn through trial and error. What we adults approached with caution, they mastered with curiosity. The “undo” instinct, so native to their digital world, gave them a fearlessness that we had long lost.

The kids made full use of the bathtubs, explored the property with their parents. At buffet breakfast, they treated it like a treasure hunt, while some adults searched for their familiar dishes.

By noon checkout, they were reluctant to leave. Tears welled up as they got into their respective cars. Even after reaching home, they were inconsolable.

Reflections on life: That evening, I couldn’t help but reflect: wasn’t our brief stay in the resort a smaller version of our life on earth?

We arrive here, much like we check into a resort, for a limited time, without making any payment, with little knowledge of how long the stay will last. The place is not of our choosing; we are simply allotted our share of space and circumstance. Within that time, we are free to explore, to enjoy, to learn, and to leave behind gentle traces of our presence.

Children, with their unfiltered curiosity, make the most of their stay. They discover, delight, and live in the present. Yet they rarely perceive the brevity of it all. Adults, on the other hand, often spend their time in anxious management, too concerned about the checkout time to truly savour the experience. Some of us, in our pursuit of order and control, forget to live; others, in pursuit of pleasure, forget to care.

Isn’t that how humanity divides itself, between those who worry about the future, those who lose themselves in the present, and a rare few who balance both with grace?

That brief vacation left me pondering: in the grand resort of life, what kind of guest am I?