The day of November 20th was a terrible day

The day of November 20th was a terrible day; the night was a terrible night...
six days earlier, on Nehru's seventy-third birthday, the great confrontation with the Chinese forces had begun; the Indian army - JAWANS SWING INTO ACTION! - had attacked the Chinese at Walong. News of the disaster of Walong, and the rout of General Kaul and four battalions, reached Nehru on Saturday 18th; on Monday 20th, it flooded through radio and press and arrived at Methwold's Estate.
ULTIMATE PANIC IN NEW DELHI! INDIAN FORCES IN TATTERS! That day - the last day of my old life - I sat huddled with my sister and parents around our Telefunken radiogram, while telecommunications struck the fear of God and China into our hearts. And my father now said a fateful thing: 'Wife,' he intoned gravely, while Jamila and I shook with fear, 'Begum Sahiba, this country is finished.
Bankrupt. Funtoosh.' The evening paper proclaimed the end of the optimism disease: PUBLIC MORALE DRAINS AWAY. And after that end, there were others to come; other things would also drain away,Fake Designer Handbags.
I went to bed with my head full of Chinese faces guns tanks ... but at midnight, my head was empty and quiet, because the midnight Conference had drained away as well; the only one of the magic children who was willing to talk to me was Parvati-the-witch, and we, dejected utterly by what Nussie-the-duck would have called 'the end of the world', were unable to do more than simply commune in silence.
And other, more mundane drainages: a crack appeared in the mighty Bhakra Nangal Hydro-Electric Dam, and the great reservoir behind it flooded through the fissure ... and the Narlikar women's reclamation consortium, impervious to optimism or defeat or anything except the lure of wealth, continued to draw land out of the depths of the seas ... but the final evacuation, the one which truly gives this episode its title, took place the next morning, just when I had relaxed and thought that something, after all, might turn out all right ...
because in the morning we heard the improbably joyous news that the Chinese had suddenly, without needing to, stopped advancing; having gained control of the Himalayan heights, they were apparently content; CEASEFIRE! the newspapers screamed, and my mother almost fainted in relief. (There was talk that General Kaul had been taken prisoner; the President of India, Dr Radhakrishan, commented, 'Unfortunately, this report is completely untrue.')
Despite streaming eyes and puffed-up sinuses, I was happy; despite even the end of the Children's Conference, I was basking in the new glow of happiness which permeated Buckingham Villa,fake montblanc pens; so when my mother suggested, 'Let's go and celebrate! A picnic, children, you'd like that?' I naturally agreed with alacrity. It was the morning of November 21st; we helped make sandwiches and parathas; we stopped at a fizzy-drinks shop and loaded ice in a tin tub and Cokes in a crate into the boot of our Rover; parents in the front, children in the back, we set off. Jamila Singer sang for us as we drove.
Through inflamed sinuses,fake uggs for sale, I asked: 'Where are we going? Juhu? Elephanta,mont blanc pens? Marve?