One day @ a time

Sex Flies and Videotapes

2011-12-28T22:12:00.000-08:00

I have recently moved into a new house from the one which was my home for the last 6 years. I did not 'feel' much about the move nor do I miss the place much. But I do miss someone.. cockroaches. I had written about them quite a few times before, but rarely in a fond tone. In hindsight, I wasn't perhaps spot on with my analyses always!

FLIES: I am no expert on cockroaches. But if sharing a living space with a few dozen of them for a few years can be construed as expertise-by-virtue-of-observation, then I think I am qualified to say a few things about them. After all these are creatures that repeatedly reminded me that I am not alone in here (in addition to the bank guys who call every time I miss an EMI) at times through display of camaraderie of the extreme kind - like getting on top of me at the weirdest hours of the night. I have seen the birth and death of generations of them in the last few years. Only at times of extreme annoyance that I have resorted to harm them in any way, squashing a few in rage using whatever that comes handy.

SEX: I say roaches have a healthy social behavior, especially if you observe them during those days of courtship and mating. They come out in huge numbers from hiding, making me feel like I am an alien inhabiting a planet of the roaches. I have even suspected at times that the congregation is hatching malicious plans to kill and eat me. This was in the early days when I mistook their elaborate matchmaking ceremonies as preparation for war. Only when, weeks later, I noticed offsprings running around from under every fallen object on the floor, that I realized the significance and magnanimity of those gatherings. From then on I made it a point to give them a wide berth during those nights, by shifting my bed to the other room; and they were understanding enough to restrict their amorous excursions outside of it. I started respecting roaches as a species.

Pluto, my neighbor's cat, also took a while before turning into an ardent roach admirer. He used to torment them by running them over or scratching them out of their hiding places, stopping just short of having them for snack. But then he realized the power of roaches as a species during the 2010 Worldcup Football tournament, when they predicted the outcome of every match as accurately as Paul the Octopus. Much more amazing was his hypothesis of them using Collective Intelligence. Pluto is now the Al Gore of the Roach planet, crusading for honor and glory of the roaches. I have to admit I have much awe and respect for the species after this incident. Yes I do miss the roaches!

VIDEOTAPES: Oh, I just included that in the title for the effect!

The Amphibian Church @ Shettihalli

2011-10-28T11:52:00.000-07:00

Prior to every weekend is this bout of hectic activity - searching and finding another place to visit over the two days. Though weekend trips are a regular affair in my life now, laziness does not permit to research and keep an inventory of such places handy. It all has to start around Wednesday, when even the calendar finally says WTF. And invariably there will be some catalyst for this increased activity, like a call from a friend who has nothing better to do than suffering my company. It wasn't any different with this trip to the Gothic church at Shettihalli. Sunil cancelled his weekend trip home and called in to say that he is available to go 'anywhere'. About Sunil, he is never worried about the place, as long we are traveling and not rusting our asses in the city. He is a rare breed who rates the journey a few notches above the destination.

It was a few months back that I accidentally came across a picture of this Gothic beauty on Flicker, and this trip had indeed been finalized that very moment. There was something attractive about the picture of a dilapidated church, half submerged in a water body. I could not find much information about the place in my subsequent research, but whatever little I got was fascinating enough to look forward to the trip. I wanted to time the trip properly to see the church in all its splendor, as 70% of it goes under water after the rains. After seeing the picture Sunil also agreed to go find this place, and we started as usual on that Saturday morning. We did not have a clear idea of the route, except that we have to take a detour near Hassan from the Bangalore-Hassan road to reach the village of Shettihalli. And then somewhere close to Channarayapattana we saw a signboard saying 'Shettihalli 3 kilometers', with an arrow mark pointing left.

We knew it is too early to take the deviation, but decided to go along the side road and see what lies ahead. After driving a kilometer or so through beautiful coconut groves, we saw a huge expanse of water at a distance. We could see water lilies floating in one corner while herons and egrets were flying all along the shore; it sure looked interesting. We thought this should be the place and we would have gotten the instructions all wrong from the internet. We drove for another kilometer, entered a small village and the road hit a dead end. There we met Devarajan. He must be the village drunkard. It was hardly afternoon and yet he was already filled up to his throat with some kind of country liquor (going by the smell) He came towards us in an MJ-Moonwalk style and introduced himself. We asked him about the church and when the fourth time he said "My name is Devarajan, Glad to meet you", we decided to go look for it elsewhere :)

The actual deviation to THE Shettihalli village is at some 2 kilometers on the Haasan bye-pass road, the third left turn after Rajeev Institute of Technology to be precise. A shopkeeper assured us that we are on the right track and the church is another 12 kilometers from the bye-pass road. Though the instructions were clear we started getting doubts after some 10 odd kilometers. Fortunately we met another gentleman on the road who knew the exact spot and even some history of the place. And as we traveled another kilometer or so we saw glimpses of the church off the road; the water level had receded much beyond the church and the dam looked more like a pond in somebody's backyard.

The Holy Rosary Church at Shettihalli was built by French missionaries in 1860 for British estate owners around Sakleshpur. The church was reportedly built with mortar and bricks and a mixture of jaggery and eggs - the secret sauce that helped it withstand the elements for almost 150 years. It was submerged during the construction of the Reservoir across Hemavathy river at Gorur, to irrigate lands in Hassan, Tumkur and Mandya districts. It stays submerged in water half the year and lives above it during the other half! It is difficult to believe that there was once a thriving population around the church. When the reservoir was built, the villagers were rehabilitated to Channarayapatna and Arkalgud and the whole place has a deserted look now.

The church is an absolute architectural beauty even in its old age. Built in typical Gothic style, it has got pointed arches and ribbed vaults. The height of the structure, judging by what remains, is considerably more than its width - another standard feature of the Gothic style. It is built in the Latin cross plan, with a long nave making the body of the church towards the western facade, and two transverse arms (Transepts) to its either side. The nave and the transepts are adorned with long pointed arches in cluster of three. There is a partly destroyed tower behind the alter, which probably had a huge bell hanging on the top. I can only imagine the majesty of this structure in its hey days, with possibly stained glass covering those big arches and windows! The atmosphere was so mesmerizing, especially with the setting sun adding its own beauty to the mix.

We brought the laptop from the car and played Mozart's Symphony No.40 and sat there listening till the sun went down well beyond the horizon. Apart from some Painted Storks, Greater Egrets and an occasional Brahmini Kite, the place was thankfully deserted. I think the music brought life back to the stone walls that I could almost hear them communicating with us, telling stories of a glorious past abruptly cut short. The structure had an impact on the music as well I think, never have I enjoyed the piece like I did that day. Before we knew it was dark, and frogs were out in plenty adding vocals to the symphony. It was time to get back to Haassan and find a place to crash.. had an overdose of beauty for one day.

Jayamamangali Blackbuck Sanctuary

2011-10-16T23:19:00.000-07:00

Curiosity is a necessary evil. It makes you ask questions, visit places and interact with almost everyone you meet. It was one such bout of curiosity attack that prompted Sunil and myself to visit the Jayamamangali Blackbuck Sanctuary (JBS). With a weekend ahead of us, we were looking for a destination and some random article on the internet caught our attention. JBS neighbours Maidenahalli, a small village in Madhugiri Taluk, at the north-eastern tip of Tumkur district of Karnataka state. This area is a part of the plains of Deccan plateau and borders Anantpur District of Andhra Pradesh. An 800 acre patch of grassland, home to the second largest population of Blackbucks (Antelope cervicepra) in Karnataka, after Ranibennur.

There are places you visit because of their popularity, already teeming with tourists; and then there are lesser known places which still maintain their serenity and tranquility owing to their relative obscurity. JBS is one such place you like not just for its beauty, but for its exclusivity as well. Though just about 150 kilometers from Bangalore, it is a difficult place to locate. It took us a while to figure out the route, even getting lost a few times. But there are quite a few attractions on the way, like the mountain fort at Madhugiri. Here is a quick summary of the route.

- From Bangalore take the Tumkur road.
- Before entering Tumkur town take a diversion (right) towards Madhugiri.
- From Madhugiri take the Hindupura road. About 1.5 km from Madhugiri town the road splits into Hindupur Road on the left and Chikballapur/Gowridbidanur road that goes straight. Even if you miss the left turn and go straight along the Chikaballapur road, you can take the 'Nitrahalli Cross' and get back at the Hindupura road. (You might have already guessed what happened to us!)
b- 11 km from Madhugiri town just before the bridge over Jayamangali River, you will reach Puruvara village. (Yes, we did cross the bridge and had to backtrack, no points for guessing that!)
- From Puruvara village you have to take another deviation towards ID Halli. After the villages of Badakanahalli and Giregoudana halli, the habitat abruptly changes into open plains. Travel this road a good 8 kilometers or so, till you find the Blackbuck Reserve's board on your right, with a dirt road leading into the vast plains. Keep your eyes open, you miss the board if you blink!

The mountain fort at Madhugiri set atop one of the largest monoliths of Asia, is a nice pitstop on the way. A fort built by a local chief named Raja Hire Gauda and later improved by Hyder Ali, it is quite an imposing structure that is visible from a distance. A flight of steps take you to the top where there are two temples and a few other structures. We did not have enough time to climb up the rock and left it for another day and drove on.

There is a Forest Department office and a watchtower at JBS and apart from the two there wasn't anyone or anything in sight initially. There were grasslands all around, the dried golden grass giving a nice contrast to the bright blue skies above. Apart from the vast plains of Deccan Plateau you can also see the Closepete granite hill chain that runs from Bellary to Ramanagaram. I had never seen such vibrant skies anywhere else, with prominent and well defined clouds hanging down from the blueness, almost touching the land at a distance. As we drove close to the gate we stopped to take some pictures and suddenly a pair of horns appeared along the horizon. As we watched in anticipation a lone male Blackbuck walked into view, proudly displaying his twisted horns and well tanned body. We were happy that we got to see a Blackbuck but the joy was shortlived as he sprinted out of sight in no time.

At JBS you can park your vehicle at the watch tower and walk around the area or drive along the many paths that exist here. We took the second option, unaware of the dimensions of the park, and the mud roads looked inviting as well. It didn't take us much to encounter the first herd of bucks. There were at least 30 of them with 3 males leading from the front. We stopped the car and watched the group from close quarters as the bucks too obliged by hanging around for quite a while. This was just the beginning and we spotted many more herds as we sat down to have our packed lunch of tasty parottas. The whole experience was like the African safaris you see in the Tele, with vast grass lands and these exciting animals all around us. We ran around from tree to tree to get a closer picture without disturbing their grazing. We walked around the place quite a bit as well spotting some Painted Sandgrouse (Pterocles indicus) and other common birds.

It was fun.. like going back to those hunter-gatherer days of humankind... running around like kids, after a herd of antelopes. The monsoon clouds were thickening along the horizon and the sky turned dark, giving the planes and water bodies an interesting hue. We sat there watching the rain pouring down at a distance, and finally drove back to Bangalore before heavy rains hit the plains.

The Deutsche Philharmonie Merck

2011-10-05T07:22:00.000-07:00

Another item ticked off my Bucket List. Watched a symphony live - The Deutsche Philharmonie Merck - at Chowdaiah Hall. 60 minutes of sheer musical brilliance!

Though I hadn't even heard before any of the pieces except two, they were all quite enthralling. Of the two I recognized, one was Brahms' Hungarian dance while I couldn't quite place the other one. The revelation of the day was "Leonore Overture No 3" by Beethoven. (I found out this later from the press release). Was quite an evening and the hall was crowded with people standing on either sides and even sitting in the aisle. Good that we got the passes (thanks to Sunil) and managed to reach the venue quite early to grab some seats!

My Experiences with Ruth - 2

2011-09-24T09:46:00.000-07:00

Ruth: Raindrops and roses and whiskers of kittens...

Me: Aahaa!

Ruth: Bright colored kettles and warm woolen mittens..
Me: Wow!

Ruth: Brown paper packages tied up with strings..
Me: mmm...

Ruth: These are a few of my favorite things.. What do you like?
Me: Egg Fried Rice

The End!

Evolution...

2011-09-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

We as a species depend on bacteria to run many of our life sustaining processes. If they refuse to cooperate one day, or stop doing what they do inside our body, the whole species would be gone in no time. This is not just our case, but every complex form of life survives with the help of some of these so called 'less complex' versions of life.

Let us extend this argument a little and apply it to another scenario - the symbiotic relationship between machines and human beings. The present day machines do need our help to survive, they are totally dependent on us for their existence. If we refuse to start them up or feed them fuel, they are also dead. The only difference is they can be resurrected once dead, if we so desire, unlike our deal with the bacteria.

So is it time to give machines the 'species' status and acknowledge their evolutionary advantage and better survival skills?

Mystic Talakadu

2011-09-13T23:12:00.000-07:00

Sand dunes amidst lush greenery, close to an otherwise life supporting river, hiding a couple of dozen temples, a palace and an entire township under it... the myth of a 600 year old curse that befell a village which was a cultural hub for centuries together, transforming it into arid landscape... excavated structures of architectural beauty that tell the story of the Chola, the Ganga, the Hoysala and the Wodeyar dynasties. How many more reasons do you need to visit a place? Talakadu, the temple town about 180 kilometers from Bangalore, had skipped our itinerary quite a few times when Sunil and myself bypassed it to other destinations like Somnathpur and Mysore. This time intrigued by the stories about the sand dunes and a weekend in hand, we decided to finally go there. We visited the beautiful twin waterfalls at Sivanasamudra, where Kaveri falls from a height of about 100 meters after flowing through the rocks and ravines of the Deccan plateau.

There is something interesting for everyone in Talakadu - for the Spiritualist, the Historian, the Geologist, the Ecologist and the Rationalist. A sleepy village which is only as interesting as any other you see on the way, has but much more about it than it shows. This town used to be the epicenter of the Ganga dynasty and the proof of its past glory is all still there, but buried under 20 feet of sand. Famous for its Shiva temples, a land named after two hunters 'Thala' and 'Kadu', has about 30 temples and a palace buried in the sand. The Archeological Survey of India (ASI) is still busy locating, unearthing and recreating some of these. Three temples are open to devotees for worship while a fourth one is under reconstruction. It is a mystery how such huge amount of sand reached a place which is a kilometer away from the river Kaveri, and how it submerged the structures there. Like any other 'mystery' in India, there are some legends associated with this one as well.

There is the myth of a 600 year old curse associated with the present situation of Talakadu. The story has many slightly different versions, but the crux is somewhat like this- When Srirangapatna was under the rule of Vijayanagara empire, the king's representative there had to go to Talakad to offer worship in the temple, to cure himself of some disease. He passed away there and hearing this his wife Rangamma also moved to Talkad. The Wodeyars of Mysore took possession of Srirangapatna that time and the Wodeyar king wanted to get hold of some jewellery possessed by Rangamma. But she refused to give it and jumped into river Kavery with the jewels, at a village called Malingi near Talakad, after uttering three curses - "Let Talakad become sand ; let Malingi become a whirlpool ; let the Mysore Rajas fail to beget heirs."

The interesting fact is that all the three curses kind of came true - the old Talakadu is now covered in sand, Mysore kings had difficulty in having male heirs and have adopted heirs for a while and there is in fact a whirlpool near Malangi! The only difference is that all these have alternate, perfectly rational explanations as well. Quite a few people have done research on this strange phenomena and have come up with plausible explanations. River Kauveri already had a whirlpool near Malangi, into which Rangamma jumped with the jewels, and Mysore kings having no male heirs is more a result of complications resulting from inbreeding as the adopted heirs were from close family relations. And the sand dunes of Talakad can be explained in Geological terms. (One impressive study was done by K. N. Ganeshaiah, a professor at School of. Ecology and Conservation, GKVK, Bangalore: http://www.ias.ac.in/currsci/dec102007/1495.pdf).

There is an active fault on the earth's crust under the Kaveri basin, spread across Talakad, Shivanasamudra and Hogenakal which resulted in course shifting of the river by as much as 10 kms in the last several hundred years. Kaveri takes a few sharp right angled turns near Talakad, almost circling the village as it flows by. During floods water ignore these course corrections and flow straight into the village depositing good amount of sand on the extended banks. Once the flood water recedes, the exposed sand beds are open to the strong winds which is common in the area. The wind should have carried the sand over a long period to the village. To reduce this wind effect, Eucalyptus trees were planted all around, during the time of Diwan Vishveshvarayya of Mysore. The dancing tectonic plates around the fault also resulted in the entire Talakad village sinking way below the average ground level, making it easy for the winds to cover up the structures with sand. Even now ASI is trying hard to prevent the resurrected temples getting sucked inside, by the sinking land.

In spite of these rational explanations, Talkad will always remain a mystical place for devotees. As we walked around the place, at times standing on top of some submerged temple, we couldn't help admire the little wonders of nature and the even more amazing stories we weave around them. Soon atmosphere was filled with the quacking of a flock of Black Ibis. They were flying around the Eucalyptus trees, looking for a suitable roosting spot for the night. Probably some birds who preferred a historic backdrop to the roost than the boring wetlands at the neighboring Ranganthitu bird sanctuary!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

2011-08-07T10:23:00.000-07:00

Trips without fixed itineraries and much planning always throw up surprises; some pleasant, some otherwise. As we were traveling back to Jaipur that night, where the journey had started, we realized that we had a day in hand and not much to see in Jaipur. We had plans to visit Sambhar lake, but when the names Agra and the Taj Mahal came up in the discussion the decision was unanimous. We figured that if we could manage to start in an hour's time after reaching Jaipur, we could go visit the Taj and be back in time to catch 2-3 hours of sleep too, before heading to Sanganer to catch our morning flight to Bangalore. It was kind of a tight schedule, but then we thought it would be a fitting finale for an already eventful trip; the cherry on the cake! Thus plans were made for Agra by the time we 'slipped and slid into another dream'.

So according to the plan we rushed to 'Ganga Kripa' and Shailesh as soon as we got down at Jaipur, and asked him whether he can help us get a ticket on one of the morning buses. Rakesh Jain's clout once again helped us and in no time we had confirmed tickets and a rickshaw outside the hotel to take us to the bus station. We dumped our luggage in the office room as all the rooms were booked, picked up our cameras, brushed our teeth and used the restroom for the staff and were on our way to Agra in less than an hour! Agra is about 230 kilometers from Jaipur and it takes about 5 hours by ordinary bus. We pass the Keoladeo Ghana National Park (formerly known as Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary) and Fatehpur Sikri on the way, two places to visit on another trip some day. Agra, the erstwhile capital of the Mughal empire is a heavily populated city now and it shows. The number of people coming to visit the Taj makes the situation even worse.

We hardly had a few hours to spend at the Taj before heading back to Jaipur and we were disappointed to see the long queue for tickets in front of the counters. The pace at which it kept moving made it even worse and the chances of an early entry looked impossible. But then there are always people around who knows the loopholes, and we met one such in the form of a guide. He agreed to get us in much sooner and we literally had no choice. He took us through some narrow streets, few flights of steps and some really filthy neighborhood to the South Gate of the complex. There were hardly anyone there; and though we were a bit afraid that his intentions were to steal our money in one of those shady black-holes, we found ourselves inside the complex with tickets in hand, in a matter of minutes! He had a nice mode of operation - he stands outside the complex, gets customers and pass them on to his counterpart inside the complex with tickets, who will take care of the 'guiding' part. Essentially the Marketing side of the business was independently functioning from the operational side of it!

Set on a three acre raised platform by the river Yamuna, bordered by red sandstone walls on three sides, the Taj Mahal is probably what India is best known for, to the rest of the world. Apart from the gigantic tomb at the center of the building built in translucent white marble, the other thing that strikes your mind as soon as you walk in through the main gate is the symmetry of the whole complex. Our guide Akram, explained the history and the vitals of the monument with the help of a thousand numbers and dates. Apart from the fact that it took 20 years to build it with the help of a 15 kilometer long packed-earth ramp to carry the stones to that heights, nothing else registered in my mind. Taj Mahal is a 240 feet tall structure, almost as tall as a 25 stories building! Interestingly researchers are almost concluding the use of such long ramps in the making of the Egyptian pyramids as well. We took the customary snaps with Taj's reflection on the garden pools and moved forward. There was a long queue to get inside the tomb as well.

Akram helped us in getting ahead of the queue and showed us around, the beautiful calligraphic inscriptions on the outer walls, the semi precious stones engraved into the white marble and the unique acoustics of some of the chambers. He used the torch on his mobile phone to demonstrate the translucent nature of the marble and some of the precious stones, and also recommended a full moon night visit to the monument to see it in all its splendor. Limited number of people are allowed to enter the complex on full moon nights and that was news for us... got to try it the next time. The tombs of Mumtaz and Shah Jahan is right under the dome and in fact the differently sized tombs are the only asymmetric structures in the whole complex. The four minarets and the two mosques on either side and the Yamuna adds to the splendor of the Taj. It is also a wonderful sight to sit and watch the marble changing hues with the light of the sun.

Akram also told us about some of the stories/myths associated with the Taj. You can see the foundation of a similar scale structure on the other side of river Yamuna, which according to Akram was Shah Jahan's chosen site for building a black Taj for himself. Such an admirer of symmetry that he was, he wanted an exact replica across the river, but built in black marble. It was this spending spree - according to some - that provoked his son Aurangzeb to imprison him at the Agra fort and take charge of the state's affairs. We sat there for a while, watching the sun doing his bit of the beautification. A big group of saffron clad swamis came into the complex whose attire was a nice contrast to the backdrop of white marble. Like the favorite wife of an emperor dying after delivering the fourteenth child, for whom a monument of love in marble is created, is an irony in itself.

As expected this was a fitting finale for the trip. Sowmy went directly to Delhi from there while Kannan and myself took a bus back to Jaipur in the evening. It took more than six hours for us to cover the distance and when we reached the hotel we hardly had 2 hours to sleep. Having done most of the sleeping on the bus we spent the last couple of hours remembering all the good moments, places and people we met over the last week or so. When you walk out of a place with a feeling that you are leaving a part of you there, then you know that you had a wonderful time there. Rajasthan with all its warmth and fun and excitement was much more than wonderful!

Click here for more pictures!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore
Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar
Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh
Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh

2011-08-04T09:07:00.000-07:00

There are quite a few day trip possibilities from Udaipur - Ranakpur and Eklingji temples, Kumbalgarh and Chittorgarh forts, Jaisamand lake and Haldi Ghati to name a few. You can club some of them into a day's trip while some like Mount Abu needs more than a day. We decided on Ranakpur temples and Kumbalgarh fort for our day trip and started quite early that day. Ranakpur is almost 90 kilometers from Udaipur and the drive across rural Rajasthan in the company of Akbar Khan (Ph: 7742567154), our very knowledgeable and well traveled driver, was quite a delight. We got to see the other side of Rajasthan, the lush green fields and heavily vegetated countryside. We stopped by a waterwheel (Rehant well) to see an efficient way of getting water from wells using bullocks. A series of buckets attached to a belt is rotated using two wheels, and the water is redirected to various parts of the field through a network of canals, all without much manual intervention.

We stopped by a restaurant named 'Badal' on NH76, some 47 kilometers before Ranakpur, for breakfast and had some awesome parottas. They were so good that we packed our lunch also from there, parottas again! Ranakpur is in Pali district of Rajasthan and in the shades of the Aravalli range. Though the Jain temple built in white marble during the 12-13 century, is what Ranakpur is famous for, there is also a much older temple dedicated to the sun god. This one is much smaller compared to the main temple, but got some impressive craft work on its outer walls. Being a sun temple, all the gods are depicted as riding a chariot pulled by seven horses, representing the seven days of the week. Away from all the attention received by its bigger cousin, this temple is a tranquil place worth spending some time.

The Jain temple at Ranakpur is a celebration of architecture and craftsmanship, and is dedicated to Rishabha, first of the Jain Tirthankaras. This massive four-faceted structure by the banks of river Magai, is a breathtaking piece of work in marble, commissioned during the reign of Maharaja Kumbh. It has 1,444 marble pillars, each with unique carvings and designs from top to bottom. The sculptures and artwork on the walls and ceilings is an exhibition of the talent of the times. It was so beautiful that the next day when we stood in front of THE Taj Mahal all we said was "Oh Taj, so what!". Taj Mahal's beauty is all about the scale, the symmetry and the translucent marble used for construction, while the Ranakpur temple is all about fine masonry and excellent craftsmanship.

You can wander about the many halls and shrines within the complex for hours. We spent close to four hours inside, going round and round, admiring the same statues on the walls, craning our neck to get a clear view of the beauties adorning the ceiling. You have to cover your legs upto the ankle before entering the temple. Unfortunately we all were in shorts and fortunately they supply pajamas in a counter outside the temple. When we finally returned the rented pajamas, the guy at the counter was surprised to see us and exclaimed what we were doing so long inside the temple! Looks like he is used to people running in and out of such a beautiful structure in a matter of minutes. There is an inscription on one of the walls here, left by an impressed Emperor Akbar, which says he will never allow the destruction of such a piece of art.

Our next destination, Kumbalgarh fort, the birth place of the Maratha warrior prince Rana Prathap, is another 70 kilometers from Ranakpur. Built on a hilltop overlooking the Aravalli ranges and protected by 36 kilometers of perimeter walls and seven gateways, it is a formidable fort built by Raja Kumbh. It holds the record for having world's third longest continuous wall, after the Great Wall of China and another one in Iran. (Some argue that it is in fact the second longest) We regretted that we did not kept aside a full day for Kumbalgarh. There are more than 200 ancient temples within the fort walls, both Hindu and Jain. The fort is also very vast, with various chambers and shrines inside, that the couple of hours we spent there wasn't enough to get even a glimpse of everything.

Once we left Kumbalgarh, it was a race against time. We had to collect some bags from the Udaipur city market - goodies to take home as advance payment for hassle free approvals for future trips - and then catch the night bus back to Jaipur. All went well and en-route we even hatched a plan to go visit the Taj Mahal the next day!

Click here for more pictures!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore
Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar
Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh
Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur

2011-07-24T10:58:00.000-07:00

We reached Udiapur early in the morning and without wasting much time dumped our bags in a hotel and started our city walk. Our first destination was Jagdish temple which is situated on a small hill in the middle of the buzzing marketplace. The 'poah' stalls on the way were just starting the day's business, and we had to cajole one of them into making us some quick breakfast. Jagdish temple is built in the Indo-Aryan style and is a beautiful piece of work. Devotees were rushing around the sanctum sanctorum for their morning 'darshan' and we sat there in a corner of the courtyard watching the commotion! We did get a chance to spend some time appreciating the sculptures and architecture once the rush subsided. The city palace complex at Udaipur is a short walk up hill from the temple, and it was our next destination.

The city palace is a complex with palaces built in and around the shores of lake Pichola. Only some of them are open to general public while others are run as heritage hotels now. The main palace was built as the center of activity of the Sisodia empire after they moved the capital from Chittor to Udaipur. The complex was built in over 400 years by different rulers and it houses the government museum and the present royal family as well. In addition to the many treasures there is an enclosed garden also inside the main palace dedicated to the sun god, which gives an excellent view of the lake Pichola. You can easily spend a day inside the complex, lost in the beauty of the many structures and the exquisite collections. Tickets are also available inside, for a ride across the lake to the Lake Palace on Jag Niwas island.

We took the boat near the Fateh Prakash palace and had a short trip to the Lake Palace hotel. You get to spend only about half an hour in this island palace, from where you get some excellent views of the City Palace complex, the Jag Mandir, the Monsoon palace and the Aravalli ranges that encircle the city; not to mention the blue waters of the lake. The monsoon palace, otherwise known as Sajjan Garh is atop the Bansdara hill overlooking all the lakes and the countryside, and was too enchanting a sight to miss. So we decided to go visit the palace. We took a rickshaw till the entrance of the Sajjangarh wild life sanctuary. From here you have to either walk up the hill to the palace, or get into one of the taxis that ply up and down the hill. We took a taxi though with enough time in hand we would have loved to take a walk amidst the lush wilderness.

The Monsoon palace is an incomplete construction which rose to fame after getting featured in the James Bond movie 'Octopussy'. People in Udaipur are so thrilled about this, that even these days there are some cafes where the film is played all day! The Sajjan Garh palace offers beautiful views of the city and the lakes and the Aravalli ranges. Built as a resort for monsoon cloud watching and hunting, it is now maintained by the Forest department. We did not stay long enough to watch the sunset as we had other plans for the rest of the evening. We got back to the banks of Lake Pichola just in time for another spectacle. The waters of the lake and the city palace complex take up an enchanting saffron hue as the sun sets. We went to Hanuman ghat near Amet haveli and took our positions well in advance.

There were quite a few people gathered already around the ghat. Once the sun recedes after painting the waters red and darkness descends, the lights of the palace complex comes on. The brightly lit palaces along with the reflection on the lake is a view worth carrying home for keeps. We waited there till our stomach started complaining. It was time to check out some more Rajasthan delicacies. As suggested by many, we went to hotel Nataraj, on the station road, for dinner and had some awesomely delicious food. As was the case with Chokki Dhani, the only thing you can think of after having a full course Rajasthani dinner is sleep.. and sleep only. After arranging for an early morning pickup the next day, for a trip to Ranakpur and Kumbalgarh, we yielded to the temptation pretty early.

Click here for more pictures!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore
Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar
Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh
Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur

2011-07-17T03:08:00.000-07:00

How do you like to wake up every morning? I know the 'in the hands of my beloved' track; but even that might sound a lot less romantic if the background score sounds like a fusion of the neighbor's mixer, the milkman yelling and vehicles honking on the road. That is why our Thar morning was so special, waking up to peacock calls amidst an otherwise complete silence! People in Rajasthan respect their animals and it was a common sight to find Blue Bulls roaming around in the Thaara-Meera or Ragi plantations. Om Prakash's dad was no exception and his morning routine included feeding a flock of peacocks who diligently come by the house and sound the morning alarm. These birds had grown so fearless that one of them was almost staring right at me from a fence by my bed. I did lie there for quite some time, admiring the mesmerizing colors of this awesome bird. The sun was slowly rising above the distant sand dunes, bringing the thatched huts back to life. The birds were busy having their breakfast as Om Prakash's dad stood there throwing grains all around.

After a sumptuous breakfast of Onion rotis and ginger tea we soon started our journey to one of the Bishnoi vilages near Osian. Omprakash also decided to accompany us this time. He goes to a school some six kilometers from his house and he walks all the way with his neighbor friend Nila. School has a different meaning for him and that day he decided to bunk school and join us on our journey. I envied the kid because he could make such a decision, and there was no fuzz about missing classes, dropping grades or falling behind peers. So he just tagged along, talking us through the various scenes and structures as we passed through some of the desert settlements. We met a couple of his friends on their way to school, who were happily singing "Ladai vadai naa karo, kothaka donga saaf karo" (Do not fight, but do clean the toilets after use) and running along the crest of the sand dunes. Om Prakash waved proudly at them from atop 'Manak' as we strolled past them.

A little later Omprakash's big brother came with a few other travelers in his jeep and we swapped rides for the rest of the journey. The Bishnoi village of Kethasar was quite far from the place and the jeep safari helped us to cover the distance pretty quick. Bishnois consider themselves the caretakers of the land and the flora and fauna around them, and hence live in peaceful coexistence with them. Black bucks and Blue Bulls roam quite fearlessly amidst their thatched huts and farm lands. The otherwise endangered Black Buck owes a lot to this community for their existence in Rajasthan. We visited the house of a potter to see how he makes those beautiful earthen pots. The people were very friendly and happy to show us around their small but neatly kept houses. We left Osian to Jodhpur before lunch time and got down at Mandore, 9 kilometers before the city.

Mandore used to be the capital of the Marwar kingdom, and is now famous for the fort and the Cenotaphs there. Mandore cenotaphs, built in memory of warrior kings of the erstwhile Marwar empire, are exquisite pieces of architecture. Though they are 'empty tombs' made in memory of dead people, they look more like a display of the architectural prowess of the times. There are memorials as well as temples spread across the many gardens. You find a lot of Gray langurs here as well, sharing the space with musicians and tourists. You will find a lot of talented musicians playing the "Ravan Hattha" in and around the gardens. There is something so soothing about the instrument that we wanted to spend a few hours there, just sitting and listening to them playing. But as we had to visit the Mehrangarh fort before leaving for Udaipur that night, we quickly grabbed some lunch and took a rickshaw to Jodhpur city.

If you can visit only one place in Jodhpur, then I think that should be Mehrangarh fort, a magnificent structure erected on a hill and surrounded by formidable granite walls. This fort was built by one of the Rathore kings, When the capital of Marwar was shifted from Mandore to Jodhpur. I don't think even a full day is enough to walk around the fort and admire the many treasures there. This is one of the largest forts in India and is also a classic example of the enviable luxuries enjoyed by the kings those days. No, I am not just talking about the many beautiful wives, but the Palanquins, jewellery, sculptures and other artifacts you get to see in the fort museum. You also see the palm imprints of the queens on the walls, who committed 'Sati' by jumping into the king's funeral pyre. In spite of all the luxuries enjoyed during life, such an unfortunate death awaited those beautiful ladies!

The winding stairways, the many treasures stored, and the exquisitely designed rooms with stained glass windows and mirrors makes the museum in the fort a must watch for art & history lovers. There are huge cannons kept on the rooftop and the terrace offers some nice views of Jodhpur city as well. The famous Umaid Bhavan Palace, which is a hotel now, is also visible from there. We wanted to see the palace but there wasn't enough time. After spending a wonderful afternoon in and around at Mehrengarh, we got back to the city and took a bus to Udaipur at 10 in the night.

Click here for more pictures!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore
Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar
Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh
Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar

2011-07-04T08:35:00.000-07:00

We woke up to a beautiful morning at Jodhpur. Our plan was to cover a few places outside town the first day and explore Jodhpur the next day. Though Rajasthan is at times called the region of death, 'Marushtali', owing to the Thar desert, most of us go there to see this very arid landscape. No different was our situation and we headed out to Osian early in the morning. Osian is an oasis in the Thar, 65 kilometers from Jodhpur towards Bikaneer. Lacking time to include Bikaneer in the itinerary, Osian was our best bet to get a feel of the desert. Camel safaris are available from Osian which takes you into the Thar and let you spend a night in one of the camps or huts there.

There are frequent buses available from Jodhpur to Osian from the main bus station. Osian is also famous for the two ancient temples, one Jain temple and the other dedicated to Sachayi Matha. Both are exquisite pieces of architecture worth spending some time at. The most famous personality in Osian is Babloo guide, whom we met as soon as we got down at Osian. He arranges camel safaris and has been mentioned in articles written in Lonely Planet and Outlook Traveler. Soon we struck a deal with him for a safari and a night halt inside the desert. Having half the day to spend at the temples, we soon headed out to the Sachayi Matha temple. The temple is situated on a hill on the either side of the road to the Jain temple.

The temple, supposedly dedicated to Sachi, one of the wives of lord Indra, is a place of worship for both Hindus and the Jains. The temple complex is pretty big with awesome views of the distant sand dunes and Rodea trees adorning the courtyard. The carvings on the ceiling are truly fabulous and the outer walls are full of well detailed sculptures of Hindu and Jain deities. The guide who accompanied us had already fled the scene suggesting that we spend way too much time at every point; he is probably used only to the slam-baam-thank you mam kinda tourists. Anyway, we were better off without him as we could linger around the amorous figures as long as we wanted! We even found a villain figure with resemblance to Shrek, which made us hypothesize that the story of Ogres originated in India.

After spending quite some time there we walked towards the Jain temple. This one is in no way behind the Sacahayi Matha temple in terms of architectural splendor. There are a few serpentine figurines portrayed all along the outer walls and there is even a small shrine dedicated to the entwined serpents or dragons or whatever they are. Time flies when you are roaming amidst these ancient monuments and we soon realized that we had to catch some lunch before reporting for the safari. Fortunately we found a brightly colored house just outside the temple where they serve lunch on request and we barged in without further delay. After a simple but tasty Rajasthani lunch we headed out with Babloo to a place just outside the village center, to meet our ride for the rest of the day.

Mahipal and his elder brother Rajesh were ready with the camels when we reached there. One of the camels 'Heera -The Diamond' was quite a celebrity since some article on him got published in some travel magazines. But he had none of the egos we normally associate with celebrities. The other two camels Manak and Pappu-Don were equally fabulous animals. Soon we started our journey and it was quite an experience. You have to hold on firmly to the animal when it sits down and gets up as you are lurched forward when it stands up on its hind legs first. You also need to get used to the rocking motion as they move and let your body sway with it than trying to be stiff. The guys we were riding on were quite well behaved animals, except for an occasional charge towards a low hanging branch of the Khejri tree. Mahipal was quite a talkative kid who kept on talking throughout the journey about life in the desert.

As we marched on the vegetation grew thinner and sand dunes took their place. There were occasional shrubs and Khejri trees with Black Bucks and the Blue Bulls running amidst them. We also spotted few quails and peacocks running across the camel trail. Apart from these the only other inhabitants were the desrt rats who peeped from their tiny holes and went down the instant they spotted the caravan. We stopped by Mahipal's elder sister's house on the way for some hot tea and red carrots. We reached a big sand dune by evening and decided to watch the sunset from there. Mahipal's house, our night halt, was visible at a distance from there. Leaving us there to spend some time playing with the sand Mahipal and Rajesh went home taking the camels with them. We ran up and down the dunes and posed for pictures with the dunes and the setting sun in the background.

By the time we reached the house Mahipal's elder brother and Dad were also back from work. His family consists of his mom, an elder brother and an elder sister as well. We were offered cold beer, an offer quite tempting to reject in-spite of the chill that had befallen the desert as the night walked in. Lying down in desert sand, sipping beer and watching the multitude of stars in the open sky.. this is truly the stuff dreams are made of. After a simple but tasty dinner with the family we decided to sleep out there in the open. As I snuggled into the comfort of the mattresses I envied the life of the people in the deserts, in-spite of the all the perils they might have in their daily life. I was soon overcome with the satisfaction of a day well spent and in no time sleep was over me!

Click here for more pictures!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore
Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar
Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh
Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore

2011-07-02T23:18:00.000-07:00

Spotting the ultimate beast in its natural surroundings was one of the items on my bucket list for long. Ranthambhore figured in the Rajasthan itinerary precisely to fulfill this desire only. One of the well known tiger sanctuaries nestled in the valley where the Aravallis meet the Vindhyas, I had read many a stories about travelers encountering these fearless beasts there. So if I say that I woke up with stripes in my brain and mind, it is definitely not an understatement. Though the sanctuary is a few kilometers from Sawai Madhopur, the forest office from where the safari tickets are issued is just outside the town. Charged with anticipation, we woke up quite early and reached the forest office at 5:30 in the morning and met Rajesh, the contact arranged by Rakesh Jain.

Ranthambhore sanctuary is divided into different zones for the purpose of tiger safari and only a limited number of vehicles - gypsies & canters - are available in each zone. Private vehicles are not allowed inside the reserve, thank goodness for that! Some of the zones, for example 1 and 2, are considered the best ones for spotting the striped beast and hence there is a rush to get tickets for these. Though the tickets are supposed to get allotted in random, if you know the right people you can get tickets to the right zones. We did not get tickets for the gypsies, but we did get them for zone 1 with the help of Rajesh. The morning tea tasted much better after securing the tickets and by 6:15 we started with 12 others in the canter. Rajendar had reached the forest office early enough to ensure that we get the tickets.

The safari was like a card game, in spite of having the best hand we did not win the game.. his highness the striped beauty did not turn up! Perhaps he decided to have an extended nap; can't blame him considering the chill in the morning air. The 3 hour journey was through exciting terrains, and we spotted herds of Spotted Deer, Sambhars and Nilghai. There were quite a few early riser birds too - the Jungle Babblers, Lapwings, Cormorands, and a white owl. Like many other places in Rajasthan we found that the Tree Pies were quite fearless here also. Unlike their shy cousins down south, they flew around the low hanging branches which were literally inches away from our heads. We waited around the waterholes for quite a while, expecting a tiger to come out of the bushes to have a drink, but all we got to see were the crocodiles and an occasional herd of Sambhars.

Adding to the hurt some co passengers started telling their own tiger stories, how a tiger smiled at them the last time, how close it came the day before that they could smell its sweat, and so on. Though initially I felt like stuffing deer shit in their mouths, I realized I would have blabbered quite the same way if I had ever spotted a tiger! I would have dedicated one full paragraph in this post to describe how I had goosebumps when the tiger stared at me and all that. So I patiently listened to the stories. The driver told us that there are only 30 odd tigers in the sanctuary and spotting one is not an easy thing. Barring the tiger disappointment, the safari was enjoyable and by the time we got back we were damn hungry. We had to catch the 2:30 train to Jodhpur and we hardly had enough time to catch some brunch, vacate the room and rush to the station.

It is an eight hour journey by train from Sawai Madhopur to Jodhpur via Jaipur, Sambhar and Makrana. Sambhar salt lake looked beautiful as the setting sun cast its spell over its waters. We would have loved to get down at Sambhar to see the Flamingos but time constraints forced us to keep it for the next trip. In the train we met Mukesh, who was traveling back to his hometown near Makrana from Jaipur. Overhearing our exclamatory comments on Rajsathan and the people there, he decided to join in the conversation. He was an interesting chap who told us stories about the haunted town of Bhangarh, the marble industry of Makrana, shape shifting ghosts in his native village and so on. Had we agreed he would have taken us to his village to prove us that ghosts indeed exist and they are not just figments of imagination! It is always good to have local company during long journeys like these, as you get to know interesting aspects of places you pass through.

Finally we reached Jodhpur by 10:30 and found an interesting hotel 'Shanti Bhavan', right across the railway station. This was an old haweli of the local administrator which was converted into a hotel later. It had more than 50 rooms at three levels! We got a nice three-bed room with a huge balcony overlooking the busy street and the railway station at Rs.600 a night. It was a nice sight to watch the moon shining right above the clock tower of the station with a beer in hand! We had dinner at a nearby hotel named Kalinga and it was a rip off; but we hardly had any choice at that time of the night. With another exciting day in the offering, we soon retired to the room. To spot the striped beast in the jungle, still remains an item on my wish list!

Click here for more pictures!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore
Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar
Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh
Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur

2011-07-01T09:07:00.000-07:00

Jaipur, the Pink City as it is often referred as, is a wonderful place to walk around. It is one of the best planned cities in the country, where the entire space is divided into six quarters linked by wide roads and walkways. Most of the buildings are still painted in Pink, and even the name boards of shops are all in black font on a white background. There is an underlying order to the structures and activities, in spite of the filth and crowd that has come about with modern times. Even after Shailesh's warnings that we cannot walk and see the city but to take a cab, we decided to give it a shot and walked into the Tripolia street.

Passing the shops selling ironware and brass-ware we came across a Krishna temple. Taking a flight of steps we stepped into the courtyard and the priest there was happy to invite us in. He even let us climb on to the terrace by a stairway behind the temple which also doubles up as his house. He had an art & crafts store operating adjacent to the temple and he showed us the fastest moving item in his collection - palm leaf scrolls with Kamasutra paintings on them. A priest selling Kamasutra as memorabilia by the temple, that is today's Jaipur for you! We then walked towards Hawa Mahal, another landmark structure in Jaipur. Built to look like a honeycomb, with more than 900 windows, this is another example of royal eccentricity. Story is that this beautiful palace was built for the royal women to watch the festivities on the street!

Bang at the heart of the commercial area, built of red sandstone, this five storied building is a formidable structure and provides a good view of the city and Jantar Mantar, our next pit stop. It is an understatement to say that Raja Jai Singh, the king who built Jantar Mantar was an Astronomy enthusiast. You should see the elaborate structures in the observatory for predicting eclipses, position of planets etc to understand his serious interest in the topic. This is the largest of the many Astronomical observatories he built across his empire and it also houses the world's largest sundial, standing 27 meters tall. Local astronomers use these instruments even now, to predict local weather.

In the morning as we came out of the rooms at the hotel, Rakesh Jain was waiting to give us his daily dose of expert opinions and tips. Hearing that our plan was to leave Jaipur that evening for Ranthambore Tiger sanctuary, he sent a man out to fetch Rajendar. The nearest railway station to Ranthambore is Swai Madhopur and Rajendar was a native of Sawai Madhopur who had a mechanical shop in Jaipur. Rakesh arranged for Rajendar to get tickets for the evening train and accompany us to Ranthambore. In spite of our best efforts to discourage this arrangement, Rakesh insisted that we should take Rajendar along, as he is very resourceful around there, and indeed he was! A jolly good fellow who sweetens up after having a peg or two in the evening, Rajendar readily agreed to the proposition and asked us to meet him at the Railway station that evening.

So after visiting Jantar Mantar we vacated the hotel room and by that time Rajendar came with the tickets. It is a 2 hours train journey from Jaipur to Sawai Madhopur and the train was crowded like hell. We managed to get in with much difficulty, but the journey was comfortable unlike we expected. We reached Sawai Madhopur by 7 in the evening and soon realized Rajendar is indeed a Lion in his home turf. Everyone from the cobbler on the street to the shop keeper knew him and exchanged pleasantries with him. He was kind of a somebody out there, someone who made it to the big city and making a living there. He showed us around and introduced us to some of his 'important' friends. He walked into an eye-wear shop, picked up a sunglass and told the shopkeeper that he will try it for a while and pay afterwards.. now you get the picture!

We wanted to take the tiger safari at Ranthambore park the next day morning and we did not have tickets. But Rakesh had got us in touch with the manager of one of the resorts at Ranthambore, who could arrange tickets for us. Rajendar also agreed to come with us to collect the tickets early morning the next day. So after putting us in a hotel he left to meet his friends for dinner. we had to get up at 4 the next morning, walk up to the forest office 2 kilometers away, meet a person there to collect the tickets and then go for the safari at 6. With such a busy day on the cards, we did not waste much time to hit the sack and in no time we were roaming with tigers and deer in our dreams. Rajendar was also somewhere there.. wearing his cool new shades and riding a tiger!

Click here for more pictures!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore
Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar
Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh
Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur

2011-06-28T12:34:00.000-07:00

I had fallen in love with a Rajasthani girl once; now I have fallen for all that is Rajasthani. Don't know whats with me and Rajasthan. Probably I was the court jester in some Mewar court in my previous life, who got beheaded for calling the queen a fatso. Whatever be the reason, I cannot help talking about the place after I returned from a 10 days trip there. A land where the people are equally interesting and colorful as the costumes they wear; a land that hides its lushness behind the Aravalli ranges, carefully camouflaged with the arid deserts. There is much to say about this land, where the past still lives on in the company of the present, and I'd rather do this by introducing some wonderful people we met.

Kannan and myself; we reached Jaipur that Friday night with a return ticket and an open mind. Sanganeer airport, which is about 14 kilometers south of Jaipur, looked too quiet for an airport and we were more than happy to land into nothingness than a crowd. Unable to find even a tea shop in the vicinity we soon left for Jaipur. We had to pick up Sowmy from the station who was coming from Chennai via Delhi. We found a small hotel very close to the station and that is where we met Shailesh. From the first moment he reminded me of school masters; not sure whether it was his indifferent but piercing eyes or the insistent nature. He was managing the small motel for his master and for him checking-in was equivalent to letting him make decisions for you for the next few days. He told us what to eat for dinner, where to go the next day and so on in the first 10 minutes itself. We were indeed happy to accept his suggestion regarding dinner as there was no eatery open at that time of the night, and soon we were treated to hot chapathis and daal.

The next morning we had plans to elude Shailesh and go ahead with our exploration of Jaipur, but a bigger hurdle was waiting for us at the reception in the form of Rajesh Jain, the owner of the hotel. If Shailesh was a bully Rajesh was a steamroller. He didn't waste any time in telling us about his acquaintances across the country. He even called one Javed bhai from Bangalore on his mobile and gave the phone to me without any introduction and said 'talk'! Having learned from the movies that it is offensive to not treat a 'bhai' with respect, I spoke to him. Looks like he was equally surprised at the sudden move from Rajesh. We exchanged our whereabouts in Bangalore and quickly ended the conversation. Though Rajesh was a bit of a show-off initially, his connections did help us a lot in the coming days.. more about that later. Hearing about our itinerary for the day Shailesh quickly arranged a cab and a driver for us and thus we met the next character - Bheem!

Unlike his name, Bheem was a lean and courteous guy. Soon we started the Jaipur tour under his guidance. We first visited the Albert Hall Museum, a treasure trove of art and crafts, jewellery, sculptures and paintings. There is a huge collection of Egyptian and Indian murals & paintings there, not to mention the collection of musical instruments and weaponry. You can spend half a day in the museum without getting bored. Our next stop was the Rajasthan Tourism Department's warehouse, supposedly the best place to shop for Rajasthani textiles and craft. Folks there will explain the process of dyeing and block printing if you are interested in knowing the process behind those beautiful garments and designs. The price you pay for this education is the Pashmini shalls and kota saris you might end up buying from there; not a bad investment I say!

Our next destination Amer Fort, is some 10 kilometers from Jaipur and is a majestic four-level construction atop one of the hills of the Aravalli ranges. It overlooks the Maota lake on one side and Jaipur city on the other. Right above Amer fort, on another hill is the Jaigarh fort and you can walk up to it from Amer. There are dozens of Gray Langurs all around the place who keeps you company and at times entertain you with their antics. Every wall and ceiling at Amer fort is embellished with mosaics and sculptures. On our way back we stopped by Jal Mahal, a palace built in the middle of the Man Sagar lake. It was surprising to know that such a beautiful palace was constructed with great effort in the center of a beautiful lake, for nothing but duck hunting! Weird are the ways of the royalty.

On the way back to the city we stopped at the garment factory ran by the Maharani of Jaipur. The jewellery store there had a palmist who had a pretty neat trick to persuade you into buying some semi-precious stones. This guy will give you a lecture initially, on the cost of precious stones and how difficult it is for someone to purchase a piece of their birthstone. But then he has a solution to the problem - alternate birthstones! These are semi-precious alternatives for your original birthstones. And to identify your stone, there is another trick. The guy puts a few drops of water onto your palm, and mixes a special paste -made in Rishikesh by a great sage- in it. This is done when you are holding a stone in your other hand. When this is done if the color of the water changes to pink, then the stone you are holding is your alternate birth stone.

If it doesn't work the first time, you change the stone and try again. I tried with a few stones and finally with yellow topaz the water turned pink! This entire show is pepped up with generous servings of palm reading. He looked at my palm and said I have a loose character. Somehow he got the idea that I am married and advised me to stick to my wife and not to wander around looking for other women! These guys generally have a good sense of humor and you can't help but laugh at even the most outrageous comments they make about you :) In Rajasthan you see palmists, magicians and traditional musicians in every street corner, not to mention the forts and other tourist destinations. We somehow escaped the factory without buying anything but the palmist's advice.

Our last destination for the day was Chokhi Dhani, a Rajasthani village themed resort, some 20 kilometers outside the city. The highlight of the place is the Rajasthani food they serve. The friendly waiters serve you till you fall, with all kinds of sweets and other delicacies made in pure ghee. There are many stages and amphitheaters there, where traditional Rajasthani arts and dance forms are presented all evening. This is a place better suited for those who want to get a feel of Rajasthani culture and cuisine in a few hour's time, without traveling across the state. By the time we got out of the place the only thing we wanted was a bed to sleep, such was the power of the food! We got back at the hotel by midnight and with much effort evaded the numerous questions Shailesh had on the day's experience. With another long day ahead, we slept off in no time.

Click here for more pictures!

Rajasthan Stories - Day 1: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 2: Jaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 3: Ranthambhore
Rajasthan Stories - Day 4: Osian & Thar
Rajasthan Stories - Day 5: Mandore & Jodhpur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 6: Udaipur
Rajasthan Stories - Day 7: Ranakpur & Kumbalgarh
Rajasthan Stories - Day 8: The Taj Mahal

Fast Forward !

2011-06-19T03:37:00.000-07:00

At the drop of a hat every Johnny is turning to satyagraha or fast unto death these days, the so called non-violent ways of getting things done. It is said that everything is fair in war and love, but then some wars are outright pointless because of the silly reasons and some fights are ridiculous due to the methods employed. Not much different is the case with these new age Johnnies who quote Gandhi and resort to shameless acts like these. For them non-violence is restricted to not raising arms and spilling blood. The thought that emotional blackmailing is perhaps the cheapest of violent tricks doesn't occur to them.

In a democratic setup or even in any other sensible political system, if you have a difference in opinion with the way things are done, you sit down, talk about it and make changes as required. An alternate view point does not give you the right to hold the government at ransom with emotional blackmailing. Taking out a demonstration to get attention of the machinery in an attempt to get an audience is understandable. But resorting to fasts unto death to get things done according to an individual's agenda is lunacy; especially when the requests are as noble and constructive as declaring 'Mosquito' the national bird. Gimmicks like these of-course gets them an undue advantage over the opposition who is forced to bend over seeing the clout of the fasting leader.

Anybody with some fan following feel these days that they can start an agitation and get any of their whims and fancies made the law of the nation. For some this has become a habit. Due to fear of vandalism from supporters of these thugs, even governments refuse to take a tough stand... after all they too dream of coming back to power after the elections. The unfortunate thing is that every other Joe with a perverted political ideology or who swears by God has a decent fan following these days. Even shit attracts flies! Media-support for someone who fasts for the good of common man, but flies to the place in a chartered plane beats me. They fast for new states, they fast for abolition of currency notes and now what?

Then there are a few other rats who cunningly take mileage out of these situations. These are the local politicians and wannabe-gurus who come up with posters supporting the campaigns, pasting their pictures alongside the campaign spearheads. This is probably the only legit way for most of them to ride the wave and get some publicity. Most of the people I talked to had a favorable opinion towards the recent fasts against corruption, understandably so. Nobody is excited enough to check out what precisely are these protesting leaders talking about issues like corruption. They just assume that it should all be benign. And why blame them, who in their right mind would think that abolishing currency notes is the best way to prevent corruption!

Meetings & Creativity !

2011-06-06T10:17:00.000-07:00

Who said meetings are a waste of time?
Not when you have a piece of paper and pen around!

"When I was walking up the stairs
I met a man who wasn't there
He wasn't there even today
I wish.. I wish he go away"

My Experiences with Ruth - 1

2011-05-22T04:03:00.000-07:00

So we walk up to this place and sit down to eat.
I try to make meaningful conversation.
And meaningful it turned out to be!

Ruth: Are you alright sweetheart?
Me: I think so, pumpkin.
(yes.. pumpkin, the most romantic of all fruits!)

Ruth: Making others happy makes me happy.
Me: Fried chicken makes me happy.
(so thoughtful and profound..)

Ruth: I don't get sleep when I am either too sad or too happy.
Me: I don't get sleep when it's too hot or when there are mosquitoes.
(she quivers a bit, but sits through the dinner)

Moral of the story - My brain and mouth cannot work sensibly at the same time.

What men talk..

2011-04-16T11:09:00.000-07:00

What men talk is not as exciting a topic as what women want or the hole in the ozone layer. In fact it is weird to the extend of making sense only to bedbugs and other jobless men. Below are few presentable excerpts from conversations between members of this species.

Religion, Evolution and the Wife
And coming to the point, congregations are the best way to control.. unlike the common belief that individuals are easy to control than a crowd. Like molecules/atoms balancing each other in an equilibrium.. the various conflicts cancel out each other perhaps...
- You mean to say religion was invented as a control mechanism?
what else..? size was the only differentiating advantage groups had in the past.. right? Religion was a perfect tool to keep people united and thus benefit from the 'grouping'.. by keeping enemies at bay. Religion was in fact made to make this togetherness happen with the God/fear/safety/protection mix...its actually this evolutionary advantage that religion provides.. that made it such a successful 'pathogen' which was happily carried forward thru generations by the 'Carriers'. Else with all its stupidity and baselessness.. it would have collapsed long back.. survival was a valid reason to keep it alive..

- what happened to the rational thinking of people then ?
Emotion and urgency always get preference over rationality..another evolutionary programming. As an animal when you hear a sound, its always better to run, than thinking whether its a branch cracking or a predator. That is why rational thinking is not the 'norm' but a deviation...
- Its a complicated world out there.. my liberal ideas are coming in constant clash with my wife's :)
I can very well imagine.. :) Well, you might think 'why isn't she thinking my way, isn't it simple & more logical' and all that. it IS NOT! Comprehending simple, straightforward logic is the hardest thing.. twisted logic appeals to you more because your mind shuts down after the first few lines due to complexity, and decide.. 'what is complex must be true'
- precisely... any way, don't tell I haven't warned you :)

God and the QWERTY key board
And mind you ... its "vOcabulary".... not "vAcabulary"
- Well the A and O are far apart on my Keyboard you see ;)
That's precisely why you don't have both the hands from the same shoulder... God created us with the QWERTY keyboard in mind. He was indeed a visionary. Anyway.. good talking to you dude... rarely I find people who can understand both 'English' and 'humor'
- Well, do u expect the same compliment from me
I tried.. with that second sentence.. Now can you help saying nothing?...like 'rolling stone gathers no moss'.. or something...
- May your tribe multiply and divide!

Roaches & the essence of life
I don't hate cockroaches.. we generally coexist without problems.. they are kind of cute.
- Ya I know.. its a nice feeling to realize that you are not alone within the four walls !! Rare situations where you see how all life is the same life.
All life is not the same, but there are moments when you realize whether its 3 legged or 2 legged or 8 legged, living / nonliving is the real differentiators. Then you get into a higher state (of consciousness perhaps) where life itself is not an issue.. existence / nonexistence will become the differentiators then. The first stage psychologists call 'Delusional' - where you consider cockroaches equal to humans.. the second stage they call 'madness' when you think stones equal human beings in value :)
- Life by all means is equal, but the approach to your own and others-not-necessarily-human is the difference .. it's ones own perspective and view .. life has but two variations ..MINE and OTHERS

Badami, Aihole, Pattadakal - Part 2

2011-04-04T20:30:00.000-07:00

By daybreak we were already on the road after a quick breakfast of idlis and uppma. It was a kilometer's walk to the cave temples from our hotel. We were the first ones to reach the cave temples for the day, giving us ample time to enjoy the sunrise and the main caves without any disturbance. The crowd generally sticks to the one or two major temples and if you cover them early in the morning then you can spend rest of the day walking around the so called 'lesser' temples. Badami got cave temples carved into the red sand stones and the structural ones like Aihole and Pattadakal. Most of the temple complexes are situated around the Agastya lake and some on the surrounding cliffs.

All of the cave temples have exquisite images of gods and goddesses carved into the red stone walls. They also feature a hall with numerous pillars and a sanctum sanctorum carved deep into the hill. The four cave temples also show the religious secularism practiced by the Chalukyas; the first three of them are dedicated to the Hindu gods, while the fourth one is dedicated to the Jain Tirthankaras. The view of Agasthya lake from the cave temples is magnificent, especially during the sunrise and the sunset, when the fiery horizon gives that extra glow to the red rocks. After spending quite a bit of time on the cliffs we climbed down towards the Agastya lake. If you take a short walk amidst the houses you can reach the banks of the lake which is filthy as a spit pot, but the green algae somehow manages to give it an emerald sheen.

The Bhootnath group of temples are built right into the lake on the other side and on the way to it, round the lake, is the museum of the Archeological Survey of India. The museum is worth a visit and it was amazing to hear that they are continually discovering and excavating new sites and structures even to this day. The museum has some interesting statues and landscape models, especially a statue of the goddess of fertility. It is a pleasant walk along the lakeside to the Bhootnath and Mallikarjuna group of temples. These temples are beautifully constructed, but rarely visited by the mainstream crowd. We met local kid Anusha and her four cousins there; who had come to take a stroll along the temple alleys. We sat there by the waterside for quite a while, while Anusha talked about the pleasures of growing up around such wonderful pieces of history.

The red sand stone cliffs all around the place are sculptures themselves, chiseled to perfection by the craftsmanship of the wind, air and water. They were so inviting that we decided to shun the artificial structures for a while and take a walk to the cliffs facing the cave temples on the other side of the lake. The path used by the goatherds and the shepherds took us to some awesome spots, from where the views were to kill for. It was a great sight to watch the sun rolling behind the mountains after the day's shift. As we walked back to the hotel it was already dark, and the huge trees on either side of the road were looking like demons in the moonlight. Our train was more than an hour late and we sat there at the station talking on and on about the good times we had. Like most of the other places we have visited, this one definitely deserves a repeat visit; probably another three!

Badami, Aihole, Pattadakal - Part 1

See more pictures here

Badami, Aihole, Pattadakal - Part 1

2011-04-04T18:33:00.000-07:00

A visit to the temple towns of Badami, Aihole and Pattadakal is literally like traveling back to the 7th or 8th century. The moment you leave the dusty roads, sugarcane fields, interesting people and move into the confines of the cliffs and temple walls, you feel like getting transported to a surreal space. This is a world where decapitated statues of gods and goddesses tell you stories of enterprising kings and their conquests; where huge blocks of stones tastefully huddled to form structures of awesome beauty tell much about the skill and commitment of the artisans of the time. Badami, named after the evil demon Vatapi, who according to the legends was killed by sage Agastya at this very place, is in Bagalkot district of Karnataka.

Kannan, Tanmoy and me reached Badami railway station quite early in the morning and in another 10 minutes found a rickshaw guy who agreed to take us around to Aihole, Pattadakal and Mahakuta. We only had 2 days with us and our plan was to dedicate the second day exclusively for Badami and cover the rest of the places on the first day itself. You actually need a day each at Aihole & Pattadakkal to get a decent look at the 50 odd temples there, but time wasn't on our side. So without wasting much time we started for Aihole and by the time we reached there crowd had already started trickling into the temple compound. It is better to visit these places on weekdays when you get to roam around without negotiating around the crowd.

Our first stop was at Aihole, the first capital of the Chalukyas, some 20 kilometers from Badami. The story is that the Chalukya kings experimented with temple architecture, fusing the North Indian and South Indian styles, and built over 100 temples here. Some 50 odd temples are still standing within a 10 kilometer radius, though most of them are in various states of destruction. It was with the experience gained with the Aihole temples that the Chalukyas later built the magnificent structures at Pattadakal. There are temples built for all the prominent gods in Hindu Mythology from lord Shiva to the Sun god. Some of these temples have beautifully built tanks associated with them. Around the main temple complex you can also see Buddhist and Jain temples.

The two storied Buddhist temple on the nearby hilltop provides an aerial view of the many structures scattered all over the landscape. Though human settlements are not allowed in the vicinity of monuments of archeological importance, you see a lot of houses sharing a wall with some of these temples. People and cattle treat some of these temples their own and share the space with the gods for their day to day activities. One cow even asked me with much frustration 'what monument?, what the heck?' as I pushed it aside to get a better camera angle. We bumped into the Aihole under-12 cricket team practicing on the roof of the Buddhist temple. They agreed to let us play with them and also provided guide service to the hilltop in return for a photo session. After lunch we started for Pattadakal, another 10 kilometers from Aihole.

Pattadakal, a world heritage site, also known as the cradle of Indian architecture showcases some of the best works of the Chalukya period. There are magnificent temples in the traditional North & South Indian styles and those that feature the fusion 'Vesara' style (also known as the Chalukya style) as well. The main temple complex is by the banks of the Malaprabha river. If you like architecture or history or if you are interested in Hindu mythology, this is a place where you can spend a few days, lost in the many treasures hidden within those walls. We met an amazing painter Mounesh, who sits inside these temples and make beautiful sketches of the gods and goddesses all day. You can buy his pencil,pen or acrylic sketches at a nominal price.

By the time we reasonably satiated our sense of wonder and awe, it was already late to visit Mahakuta. But our rickshaw guy agreed for a quick stop on the way back to Badami. While the Aihole and Pattadakal temple complexes are devoid of any vegetation, temples at Mahakuta are built amidst huge trees, many of which have grown over and into them. The evening sun gave a quite charming look to the big banyan trees, giving the place an Angkor Wat look. There were langurs running all over the place and many snakes enjoying an evening swim in the ablution tanks. One interesting temple here is dedicated to lord Ganesha, which is built in the middle of a tank, and you have to walk in waist deep waters to reach the sanctum sanctorum. We left for Badami before nightfall, booked into a hotel and decided to sleep early considering the long day that lay ahead.

Badami, Aihole, Pattadakal - Part 2

See more photos here

Roaches in Arms !

2011-04-01T02:55:00.000-07:00

It was around midnight that I felt this tingling sensation on my neck. Though I wished this was one of those beautiful young ladies from the dream I was having, soon I realized it felt more like a cockroach making his way over my body. Unlike ants, who take a turn or go around, roaches just walk across, even if its along your open mouth. I started getting the same tingling sensation around my left foot as well, and it didn't feel good. I threw the blanket aside, stood up and switched on the light. I was startled to see at least 15 roaches all around the room.

I knew roaches lived in the house, and a lone crusader running from under the pile of dirty clothes was never a nuisance for me. But seeing so many of them around my bed was quite a different feeling. Their demeanor - lazing around without the slightest regard for a superior species (arguably)- was irritating. So I picked up the weapon of mass destruction (my slippers) and unleashed the fury over them. In a matter of minutes I was piling up dead roaches in one corner of the room. It took a full five minutes after this for me to realize that they didn't even try to run away as I approached menacingly with the slipper in my hand. Now that was perplexing! I am no expert on the social behavior of arthropods, but the fact that so many of them came out of their hiding places only to succumb peacefully to my blows was beyond commonsense.

Anyway, I went back to bed, this time snuggling a little more into the comfort of the blanket. But in a matter of minutes I could hear the creepy crawlies running over me once again. Now, this is serious business, and I got up once again to find another 10 odd live roaches in the room. I wasted no time in meting out the same treatment to this battalion as well. Somehow I got a feeling that this war is far from over and I decided to play a little game. I switched off the lights and waited quietly in the bathroom. While waiting for the guerrilla warriors to present themselves I started thinking of this unusual phenomenon. I had never witnessed anything like this in the last 5 years I've been staying at this house. Was this some kind of a roach ritual or ceremony that I accidentally gatecrashed into?

Were they trying to eat me alive? I had held roaches in high regard so far. Though I have written about them a few times here, it was always in good humor and with pure intentions. Even though Pluto had warned me once about their collective intelligence, I never suspected that they would hatch such a plan to attack me; even during the worst famine. I have heard of weird animal behavior prior to natural calamities like earthquakes, floods and volcanic explosions. Considering the recent earthquakes in Japan and Indonesia, even this came up as a reasonable possibility. Both the hypotheses were equally terrifying! I eagerly listened for any corroborating evidence from the dogs in the neighborhood; but they were all unusually quiet that night. It is highly unlikely that only the roaches got warned and not the dogs; and that did calm my nerves to a large extend.

Or is it that they came to know about the rebel uprisings in Egypt and Syria and are trying to pull one against me? For them I might be this giant who cohabits their territory? Putting an end to the uncontrolled wanderings of my mind, I switched on the lights and found another 5-6 roaches around the bed. There were a few in the kitchen as well. In short, I had about 35 kills by the time I finally got back to bed that night. I am sure this should be a record of sorts for one night! Fortunately the roach army receded for the night, probably to recoup and organize another attack some other day. I slept like a baby for the rest of the night though in my dreams I saw monster roaches attacking me with their gigantic mandibles; trying to push me off some cliff as I ran for my life.

Fortunately there wasn't any sign of roaches by the time I woke up in the morning. But I had anyway decided to launch a counter attack, once I replenish my arsenal with some anti-roach missile sprays and bombs. If what they want is a war, I will give them one. And as I do not have any oil reserves I am sure the US will not poke their noses in this 'civil unrest' (even though we are talking about American cockroaches, 'Periplaneta americana').

Victory will surely be mine!

Dop-a-minded !

2011-03-25T00:47:00.000-07:00

My parents always had this doubt about us kids. How come all the four kids, of devoted Christian parents, raised in reasonable religious awareness, turned out to be skeptics who question the highhandedness of religion on a regular basis. All attempts to show this as a 'healthy' and 'normal' behavior had so far been as successful as the India-Pakistan agreement on Kashmir.

But now, looks like I have identified the culprit. After all, what we need is a sacrificial lamb to blame everything on, and then crucify it to let us off the hook. Our villain in this case is a chemical called Dopamine (no relation to 'dope' or 'wine' what so ever!). The story starts with the not so recent discovery that interpretation of causality has a biological foundation. So if you are one of those who believe the recent earthquakes in Japan and Newzealand are signs of end times fast approaching, you cannot really be blamed! The blame should go to those little strands of polypeptides inside you, which increase your propensity to believe in 'seemingly interesting & rewarding' ideas like religion.

Lack of Dopamine in the left hemisphere of the brain, among right-handers, can bring down the authority of belief systems. This makes them more vulnerable to pattern recognition, separating the casual coincidences from the so called 'miracles'. So this should possibly be our guy. All our transgressions into the unquestionable territory of religion is perhaps the result of Dopamine deficiency. But the question is how can we blame something for the consequence of its absence?

Ahem! Any answer suffixed by a why is a new beast.

Sikkim Diary - Part 4

2011-03-12T23:17:00.000-08:00

Any trip to Sikkim is not complete without visiting the beautiful Tsogmo lake, Baba Harbhajan Mandir and the Nathula pass.This is a 40 kilometers journey from Gangtok to an altitude of over 13,000 feet, along the treacherous mountain roads. Though we started as early as 7 from the hotel, it took another 2 hours for us to get the permits verified. We were in the company of a family of four including two small kids who were ecstatic about the possibility of playing in the snow. I like to travel in the company of kids as every other thing, which are generally overlooked by the so called 'mature' folks, is an object of curiosity and excitement for them. This also lets me be myself without getting frowned at for being childish!

The road to Nathu La offers some magnificent views with snow clad mountains on one side and the yak grazed valleys on the other. The terrain is prone to landslides and sinking grounds at many a places. A warning sign 'Rolling Stones ahead' reminded me of the legendary band for a moment, but then I noticed that our driver wasn't looking ahead as he negotiated the tricky curves. He was looking up at the mountains bordering the road, and it wasn't quite a puzzle as boulders started rolling down the slope on to the road in no time. Landslides are so common and unpredictable on these roads and they at times get blocked for hours in spite of the commendable effort by the Border Roads Organisation(BRO) in maintaining them. We traveled past the Kyongnosla Alpine Reserve, home of the Red Panda and the Blood Pheasant, the state animal and bird of Sikkim. We also came across the Axis Bank ATM which is at 12,000 feet and featured in some of their TV commercials.

Nathula pass, an offshoot of the ancient Silk Route, connecting Sikkim with the Tibetean plateau, was closed for visitors due to extensive snow fall and landslides. So we decided to go straight to Baba Harbhajan mandir. The road skirts the beautiful Tsogmo lake and Sherathal on the way. The temple at 13,000 feet was built in the memory of a late sepoy of the Punjab regiment. According to local legends the sepoy appeared in dreams to some of his colleagues asking them to build this temple, a few days after he went missing in a glacier. After that day, it became a ritual for the regiment to pay their respects at this shrine before going for battle. The mandir is located at a picturesque location with the lofty mountains and a waterfall providing the backdrop. There is another ATM near the temple, and also a cafe aptly named 'cafe Thirteen Thousand'.

We soon started for Tsongmo lake (locally known as Changu lake). This is another of the sacred lakes and according to the local people Buddhist Lhamas can predict the future based on the color of the water in the lake. Yak rides are available around the lake if you want to enjoy the beauty of the half frozen lake. The climate in these mountains is quite unpredictable and soon our driver informed us that we have to start our return journey immediately. As we stood there debating the logic behind such a seemingly stupid change in schedule, from nowhere dark clouds started crowding the sky. No experts on climate change, we decided to follow the experienced driver's advise and it proved to be the wisest decision we made in quite a while! Soon it started raining followed by hailstorms. The kids were having a great time seeing all the hail that is piling on the windshield of the jeep.

Once it rains the roads and the curves become even more trickier to maneuver and we saw quite a few vehicles stuck in the mud. The BRO was already in action while the scared tourists had to brave the heavy rains and hail. Getting stranded in the middle of nowhere, with only mountains for company is not such a nice idea for a vacation! As we passed the muddy and landslide prone areas and reached reasonably good roads we stopped over to enjoy the hail and the snow, much to the delight of the kids (including me!). Though we've been walking on snow for days together a week back, it was a delight to feel the soft snow with the already numb fingers. And as quickly as they came, the dark clouds were gone soon and the sun shone brightly on us again. Remember all this drama was at 3 in the afternoon. We got back to Gangtok, and after dinner from another Tibetan restaurant had one last walk along the MG road.

Early the next morning we took a taxi to Siliguri and walked from there to the NJP station to catch our train back to Bangalore. The journey was eventful as we were traveling in the general compartment with another 100 people or so. Owing to change in plans midway, we stopped over at Vijayawada for the night, took a train to Tirupathi and then from there reached Bangalore by bus the day after evening. End of another memorable journey with promises made to get back to the land of mountains again in the future.

Click here for more..
Sikkim Diary: Part 1
Sikkim Diary: Part 2
Sikkim Diary: Part 3
Sikkim Diary: Part 4

Sikkim Diary - Part 3

2011-03-03T18:07:00.000-08:00

Mr. Gurung was dot on time the next morning to show us around, but we got delayed as we had to arrange permits for the next day's visit to Tsongmo lake and Nathula pass. Identity proof and photographs had to be submitted to the military for the permits. Due to the proximity to the Chinese border and treacherous conditions, the army regulates the number of people/vehicles visiting the area on any given day. After setting up a travel agency to do the needful on our behalf, we started our Gangtok tour. Mr. Gurung took us to more than 13 different spots in and around Gangtok. We started with the Bulbulay Himalayan Zoo. This zoo has a difference from the regular zoos that animals are kept in large open/semi-open enclosures. They have also been carrying out captive breeding of Red Panda here, the state animal of Sikkim, since 1999.

Our next stop was Tashi view point and after lunch we went to the famous Lingdum and Rumtek monasteries. Rumtek located 24 km from Gangtok -also called the Dharmachakra Centre- is the largest monastery in Sikkim. It is the main seat of the Karma Kagyu lineage, the largest lineage within the Kagyu school, one of the four major schools of Tibetan Buddhism. Due to sectarian violence within the Karma Kagyu lineage, the monastery is heavily patrolled by the Indian armed forces. The colossal prayer hall inside the monastery is adorned with lovely murals, statues and 'tangkhas'.

The Lingdum monastery is one of the new monasteries, but built in such grandeour and style to match or even exceed the beauty of some of the old ones. It is a Buddhist center in the tradition of the Zurmang Kagyud lineage. We also visited the Do Drul Chorten stupa, encircled by 108 prayer wheels built by a former head of the Nyingma order of Tibetan Buddhism. This is one of the most important and the biggest stupas found in Sikkim. Inside this stupa, there are holy books, mantras and other religious objects. The Chorten is surrounded by Chorten Lakhang, where there are two huge statues of Padmasambhava. Pilgrims from all over the state come to pay their homage at this stupa.

After spending a day experiencing the history and culture of Sikkim and Buddhism, we got back to MG road by late evening. After a quick dinner at the nearby Nepali restaurant and a quick stroll along the deserted MG road, we hit the sack quite early that night. We had a long travel scheduled for the next day.

Click here for more..
Sikkim Diary: Part 1
Sikkim Diary: Part 2
Sikkim Diary: Part 3
Sikkim Diary: Part 4

Paranoia

2011-02-14T17:36:00.000-08:00

No, I did not pick up writing to make fun of other people, as I don't have anything write-worthy happening in my own life. I actually started it as a time killing alternative during the school internal exams which then became kind of a compulsive disorder. I know it is not proper to laugh at your friends or neighbours, let alone write about them. But this one time I have to do exactly that... who knows I might stop right after this.

Let us call this dude Gumaltti, a fine young man except for the high levels of Paranoia he proudly carries around. I'll let him describe it for you.. "Don't laugh, I will be ready and prepared when the shit comes down, while you will be just wondering what hit you". As that reference of 'you' in the quote is me, you might be concluding I have gone nuts in making fun of such a fine piece of advise. I rather let you take the call by the end of this post.

Gumaltti has a top of the line laptop with him, but has no Flash or Active X installed in it. I first thought he is some Steve Jobs fan who followed the master's advice not to have Flash. But the real reason is that some friend once told Gumaltti that all the malicious stuff on the internet gets into the personal computers through these two horrible plug ins! So from that day Gumaltti is living without Flash or Active X. Unable to handle this wisdom, I asked him 'So, how will you view something that has a Flash component?'. Phat came the reply 'I will go to an Internet Cafe. I don't want to take chances with my laptop'.

Last weekend I found Gumaltti in a particularly disturbed mood. I saw him walking back and forth his bike a few times in the afternoon and I couldn't resist asking. Then he told that somebody's bike got stolen from the neighborhood a few weeks back. But I couldn't connect the incident with his restlessness. The connecting story goes something like this. Gumaltti gave his bike for servicing at some garage and the mechanic's assistant took it for a test ride after the job. According to Gumaltti, such a test ride should take just a few minutes, but this lad came back only after 17 minutes. Gumaltti suspects that this boy at the garage would have made a duplicate key for the bike, which he might use at some later point of time to lift the bike! As I stood there with my mouth wide open, he got into the details on why his guess is not a mere 'guess'.

1. While the lad was getting late, Gumaltti asked the garage owner for the boy's mobile phone number and the owner refused. So these two must be partners in crime!

2. The boy at the garage must be working for pretty low wages and the only way he can make more money is by joining hands with the vehicle stealing gang. Now we have the motive!

3. There were newspaper reports about gangs which operate in this manner; the mechanic-keymaker-vehicle thief nexus. What more evidence you need to corroborate?

I don't argue with Gumaltti most of the times because a few times I did I was called careless and stupid. But looks like Paranoia is not an aberration, but the norm these days. How else will you explain the existence of firms selling 'Key-chain-radiation-detector', a must-own for every one, just in case the neighborhood gets nuked and you got to figure out an escape route? Or those who sell bio-survival-kits with storable food, seed packets and a make-your-own-fuel apparatus, that helps you survive possible biological or chemical weapon attacks in the future?

We look forward to the future or just live the todays in fear of the uncertain tomorrows? Or perhaps I am just being careless and mumbling about the ones who are not.

Sikkim Diary - Part 2

2011-02-03T09:25:00.000-08:00

Getting up at 3:30 in the morning never felt so good before. We wanted to go to Tiger Hill and watch the sunrise from there and really hoped to get a glimpse of Mt. Everest as well. Tiger Hill, at 8,500 ft, is the highest hill in the Darjeeling area and is famous for the spectacular sunrise show over the Himalayas. It is 11 km from the town and jeep service is available from the city. We reached the hill on time and found at least another 100 people there, eagerly waiting for the sun. Locals were selling tea, refreshments, photographs, maps and history books and the place was so lively at 5 in the morning! Finally after quite a wait the sun did come up, but the scene was not really spectacular, thanks to the lingering mist and clouds! You can see Mt. Everest from here if you are extremely lucky and happen to be there on one of those clear, windy days. But we proved to be far less lucky for the treat.

Though Tiger Hills was kind of a disappointment, we had a toy train ride to look forward to in the morning. On the way back to the station we stopped over at the monastery at Ghoom. The small but beautiful monastery was full of tourists who were on their way back from Tiger hills. So after a peep inside the sanctum sanctorum, we spent most of the time outside, talking to the playful young monks there. Being the closest monastery to the town it is always crowded, unless you go at noon or late in the evening. We also visited Batista loop and the war memorial. Batista loop is a double loop of railway track, which is an engineering marvel. Here the train turns in a very short turning radius before entering Darjeeling town.

After spending some time at the garden around the war memorial, we reached the train station on time. But our luck just picked up from where it left off at Tiger Hills and all train services were canceled for the day due to some railway employees strike! We went to the travel agency to collect our ticket money, which he promptly returned, and also got news that the strike is not going to end anytime soon. So having no other option, we decided to chuck the toy train plan and go to Ganktok instead, a day ahead of plans. Having booked tickets to Gangtok for the afternoon Jeep service, we had half a day in our hand. We spent the next four hours sitting in a coffee shop by the chowrastha, sipping tea, reading books and taking pictures of people. It was indeed a nice thing to do on a Monday morning. The place is always active with the street vendors, tourists, horses and the mist.

Darjeeling to Gangtok is a five hour jeep ride, which fortunately got extended to 6 hours as our driver wanted us to taste different flavors of tea every hour or so. So accordingly he stopped at every tea shop by the road. Finally we reached Gagtok by 7 in the evening. As we were walking out of the jeep station to find some transport to the city center, we met Mr. R Gurung, an elderly cab driver. He was an ex-military, ex-Archeological Survey of India employee, who knew the history and facts of Sikkim pretty well. He was enthusiastic in sharing the same with us as well. During the short journey from the jeep stand to MG Road, he agreed to take us the following day for a Gangtok tour. With the next day's program arranged we checked into a motel (Norphel guest house) on MG road itself. The MG road at Gangtok is quite well maintained and devoid of vehicles with benches on either side. We wanted to taste some North Eastern cuisine and had a sumptuous, tasty but expensive dinner at 'The Square' on MG road.

Click here for more..
Sikkim Diary: Part 1
Sikkim Diary: Part 2
Sikkim Diary: Part 3
Sikkim Diary: Part 4

Sikkim Diary - Part 1

2011-02-01T09:55:00.000-08:00

After a 7 day, 100 kilometer trek to Samiti lake and Goecha La in West Sikkim, we finally got back to Darjeeling. While rest of the gang were all set to fly back to Bangalore and Chennai the next day, Robert and myself weren't done with our adventures just yet. We had another 8 days to explore the beautiful Sikkim & West Bengal; all we lacked was a plan. Though a well thought out itinerary is advisable during travel, it cannot match the small surprises that an unplanned trip throw up every now and then. So after a good night's sleep and seeing off the gang to the Bagdogra airport, we walked into Glanary's for our morning dose of apple pies.

Nothing facilitates clarity of thought and unbiased decision making like apple pies. So as we sat there at Darjeeling chowrastha, drinking coffee and watching the morning mist slowly taking over the city, ideas started taking shape. A ride on the toy train from Darjeeling to Siliguri was a priority item on our wish list. The tickets were all sold out for the next few days and we decided to try our luck at a travel agency. Bang opposite to the railway station was an agent who had two tickets for the day after, of course at a premium. Now that the tickets were arranged, we had two days to wander around and we decided to go to Sandakphu. Sandakphu is the highest peak in the state of West Bengal. It is situated at the edge of the Singalila National Park on the West Bengal-Sikkim border and is famous for the fantastic views of Himalayan ranges it provides. Without wasting much time we started our journey to Mane Bhanjang, from where the Sandakphu trail starts. Jeep service is available to Mane Bhanjang from Darjeeling old supermarket junction.

Mane Bhanjang is a beautiful village at the gateway of the Singalila National Park. This place still got a bunch of those old Land Rovers running up and down the hillocks; they even got a Land Rover Owners Association there. The jeep trip to this village was quite entertaining - we bought and ate fresh carrots on the way (just a kilo of it), four clouded leopard cubs crossed our path and we had to prove our identity at two checkposts as we looked 'different'. Once we reached Mane Bhanjang we realised that the trek to Sandakphu is a costly affair - some 3000 rupees as trek fees plus charges for a mandatory guide plus other charges! Someone had told us of a Buddhist monastery about two kilometers from Mane Bhanjang on top of a hill, and we decided to walk up to the monastery first and then decide on the course thereafter. Though it was early afternoon, the visibility was hardly 5 feet as we walked up the winding path through the pine forests. Bright blue pine cones on emerald green branches was quite a sight and the gigantic ferns only added to the beauty of the landscape.

The two kilometers walk to Chitre monastery was tiring, in fact we were sure the distance was more like some 5 kilometers. The monastery looked beautiful and the monks were busy with renovation works, in time for some festival the coming week. After spending some time there though we decided to walk towards Sandakpu, we soon realised it was a stupid decision. The mist became so thick that we could not figure out our way forward or back. Even the sun seemed to be all set for an early retreat. But then, as you see in the movies, we heard a voice from the clouds. No, it wasn't the burning bush shouting 'Behold ye arrogant idiots'. It was the unmistakable noise of utensils and the barking of a dog. We made best use of our olfactory senses and walked towards the sound, though a little worried about a flesh-ripping welcome by the dog. Fortunately it was the house of Phuntsukh -Eagle's Nest- and he invited us in for a cup of tea!

One thing I like most about travel is the excitement of meeting interesting people and making new acquaintances. Phuntsukh had moved to Mane Bhanjang some 20 years ago from Bhutan and he was gracious enough to offer us their guest room for the night. The offer became irresistible when he said he will treat us to some good Nepalese noodles, hot parathas and Aloo Dum (not that we would have refused the offer without the food). We could also smell some fine Roxy in the making. Roxy is a local alcoholic drink. Phuntsukh's wife later showed us the urns in which they ferment rice to make Roxy. After some hot coffee and snacks we retired into the guest room and it soon started raining. The guest room had tin roofing and the raindrops were doing tap dance on it. It was one of the finest moments of the entire trip, as I lay there under the comfort of a heavy blanket, listening to the Raindrops Symphony, reading 'The Secret Life of Plants'!

The next morning we woke up to a magnificent sunrise and had Nepalese wheat noodles for breakfast, listening to Rod Stewart singing 'Have I told you lately..'. We said goodbye to Phuntsukh and family after breakfast and started our descend back to Mane Bhanjang. The mist had cleared and the valleys looked beautiful this time. We got back to Darjeeling by afternoon, checked into a motel and soon set out to see the Tibetan Handicraft center. When we got back to the chowrastha, the place had woken up from the drowsiness of the morning and was filled with people and horses. We took a walk around to see the beautiful St. Andrews church and ended the day with a tasty dinner at Glanary's. We picked up some local music CDs on the way back; some compilations of Sabin Rai as well. After arranging for an early morning pickup to visit the Tiger hills, we retired to our room for some much needed sleep.

Click here for more..
Sikkim Diary: Part 1
Sikkim Diary: Part 2
Sikkim Diary: Part 3
Sikkim Diary: Part 4

Saints n Sinners

2011-01-24T01:30:00.000-08:00

The church premises was unusually crowded this evening. But then I remembered its Thursday, the special day the patron saint of the church listens to matchmaking requests from the sinners. So lads from across the town and neighboring asylums travel to the church with handful of candles and garlands. I am not sure whether the garlands signify a wreathe on personal freedom or the candles represent the willingness to melt away under the asks and hypocrisies of paired life. Anyway the point is not to show marriage under bad light, but to think loud on this Tuesdays-for-saint-Walnut, Wednesdays-for-saint-Coconut business.

First it was the division of labor "..as Mr. Walnut has been declared a saint today, he will take over from St. Coconut the growing-hair-on-bald-heads department. Henceforth all hairy requests..." That is understandable, how many prayers are godly possible for the Trinity and mother Mary to handle a day, especially in these days when the sinners are choosy on ala carte orders, like the Kardashian butt, Katie Price boobies, Natalie Portman smile all fitted into a 1945 Marilyn Monroe chassis? So it makes super sense to assign St. George to handle the reptiles and horses, considering his knowledge in horse riding and dragon slaying. But experience is not the sole criteria here I suppose, as we are talking more about curing headaches and not coaching the football team. Knowing that Dispirin is for headache while Aspirin is good for hangovers is good enough for most of the situations. And what matters most I think is the magical powers, which you anyway get like an honorary Doctorate by virtue of sainthood.

So, while delegation makes sense in a world of increased purchasing power, population and demanding customers, I am still not convinced about the special-day concept. Imagine this note on the heaven's notice board "St.Walnut is busy playing pool at the club, with St. Jobless and St. Anabelle on Mondays,Tuesdays and Thursdays. So he will not be available for consultations on Belching-and-Burping these days. Sinners are requested to try St. Jinglebell in case of Emergencies". After all, all work and no play will make Walnut a dull saint.

Unlike here on Earth, looks like Saturday is not holiday out there in heaven, there are quite a lot of saints available for consultation that day. This is perhaps part of the sinner-friendly policy of the heavens... letting us submit the requests en-masse on one of the holidays. Why else is Sunday the holiestest day of all? Followers of Satan might argue that it is to keep us away from the television sets, which broadcast blasphemous shows like Mythbusters and Attenborough on Evolution. We all know that The Simpsons (after the Vatican declared that they are a catholic family), any David Blaine show (he is now an official member of the 'Super Best Friends' after he defeated Jesus in that episode of Southpark) and concerts by 'Lamb of God' are the only sensible programs on TV these days.

Whatever be the truth in the above argument, I personally feel Sunday services are 'stimulating' and hence have definitely contributed to the increase in population. (No, I am not talking about folks who take seriously the Pastor's argument 'more children more stability' and do the needful). Someone once told that grief and remorse are the perfect aphrodisiacs. If that is true, after an hour of rituals and sermon, which in English translates to how big a sinner you are, and a whole day ahead with nothing substantial to do, you can imagine what couples might get creative at. Hallelujah!

We should try arranging Sunday masses to the African mammals whose population is fast dwindling (somebody from NatGeo or Animal Planet pokes their camera right in, every time a couple gets in the mood, so how the hell will the population increase!) Religion seems to me a great alternative in increasing their population and getting the 'Endangered Species' out of the Red Book. But the challenge would be in finding out a suitable story to make them feel bad about. Stealing apples .. you kidding?

Coming back to the point, most of us eagerly wait for the Friday to go to St. Bologna's church and request the death of our boss under a garbage truck, even at the risk of getting stampeded to death by the crowd. Like wilder-beast migration across the Serengity, everyone from far and around flocks around St. Bologna on Fridays with a death wish on their lips. I see the logic now... someone will definitely be dead on the spot at the end of the mad rush, or definitely later due to injuries sustained during the process... and some Dany Sinner's wish will thus be granted. It is in fact much simpler logic in case of the Dudes and the Dames who come looking for partners.. where else do you get all of them at one place to pick and choose from! The discos are a distant second option I say!

So who ever came up with this Designated-Days concept wasn't after all a fool..eh?

Ask and ye shall receive.. for real !

2011-01-20T09:59:00.000-08:00

The men folk have long been accused of their inability/reluctance in asking for directions even when they are lost in the middle of nowhere. Jesus Christ himself once said 'Ask and ye shall receive', after he got lost in Jerusalem. This phenomenon has been nicknamed Ego, Arrogance, Stupidity and Irreverence-to-Information by Huang Sang, Plato, Hippopotamus, Virginia Wolf, Victoria Beckham and the like. Though it is advisable to ask, asking is not enough at times, as a friend of mine recently found out.

Both of us wanted to go for this fusion concert organized by Indian Council for Cultural Relations(ICCR) at the Gallery of Modern Art in Bangalore. It was mentioned in the press release that passes had to be collected from ICCR in advance. Already having an experience without passes a week ago, I did not want to take chances this time. My friend agreed to do the honors as he had to go that side of the town to pick up a few things in the morning. So as suggested by his holiness the omnicient Sri Sri Google, he went in search of ICCR @ #1, 12th Main, vasanth Nagar. Fortunately he stopped his bike right in front of building#4, 12th main... not a bad start. The building next to #4 had an address board saying #3, but to his amazement the next building was #32. He could find #2, #5 and #7 but no #1, even after checking the name plates of a dozen other buildings. It was at this moment that he decided to go against the time-tested, evolution-nurtured instincts of his, and ask an elderly lady about building #1.

'I don't know about the building numbers, but what is that you are looking for', she asked.
'ICCR - Indian Council for Cultural Relations', he said.
'Ohhh ICCR.. you should have told me that. It is the third building from the other end', she said with a smile.

Thanking her for the tip he rode towards the said building. What the old lady said was true, ICCR used to be there, but not any more! The security guard for the building had no clue where they moved to. Unable to continue the search, my friend decided to let the old lady know about this before heading back home. She was shocked to hear that ICCR is no more there. She lived on the same street and was unable to accept the fact that things changed next block without her knowledge! But then she wasn't the 'giving-up' kinds. She insisted that my friend wait till the postman comes for his daily rounds, and find out from him what happened. She ordered one of her acquaintances for a chair and a cup of tea for my friend.

So in the next half an hour he got a quick download of her family history, a short lesson on pickling lemon and a lecture-demonstration on art forms of the pre-Rock era. Fortunately the postman came on time, just before my friend got a PhD on 'continuing erosion of value systems in modern society'. The postman announced to the lady's further disappointment that ICCR had shifted from there about an year back. She started apologizing profusely for giving the wrong and outdated information, but was glad that my friend stayed long enough to get the correct directions from the postman. My friend was happy too and he set out to collect the tickets finally. But the new location suggested by the postman was weirder than the first two. This place didn't even have a building.. just a few pits dug out for some construction and a pile of garbage!

As he stood there cursing his luck, the security guard from the nearby building came forward and expressed his desire to help. Fed up with all the help received so far, my friend just said ICCR.

'ICCR used to be here, now they have moved and the building has been demolished for reconstruction', said the guard. ICCR suddenly started sounding like a folk story, an urban legend which doesn't really exists. Everybody's heard about it, but nobody really knows where it is!
'Any idea where they have moved?', asked my eternally optimistic friend.
'They had a board somewhere here with the new address, let me see', he walked towards one of the pits, scolding the person in-charge of the site for not putting up the board outside.

From a pile of metal sheets and iron rods, he finally pulled out a board which read 'ICCR' on the top. Underneath the name it was written on a pasted piece of paper: 'We have moved to 1st Floor, 2nd Main, Palace Road'.
'First floor? But where the f**k is the building number', my friend almost shouted. All this time all he had was a building number, and now when he finally got other details the building number is missing. He had enough for one day!

So, without tickets, we decided to test our luck and walked into NGMA that evening. The whole place was deserted and the band 'Esperanto' was already on with their sound check. They had an interesting sound, a blend of Rudra Veena, Violin, Blues Harp, Acoustic & Electric Guitars, Tabala & Mridangam. As always the music did not disappoint. The acoustic guitarist also doubled up as the vocalist; wish he had stuck to his strings and not strained his chords. That was in fact the only pain point the whole evening. We were hardly 30 people in the 80 seater auditorium.. probably the others also searched around for ICCR and the tickets, but gave up.

Ask and ye shall receive, but only if you hang on long enough... and be prepared for a few surprises as well!

Or perhaps..

2011-01-15T02:14:00.000-08:00

For the fourth consecutive day she was standing there. I was on my way back from work. She was at the exact same spot, by the traffic island, leaning on to the rails and staring at the setting sun. The same expressionless face, the same shabby clothes and perhaps the same set of flies for company. The long hair falling on to her face could not fully hide the bruises. She was mumbling something to that invisible friend of hers every time I saw her.

Should I thank HIM for putting her there instead of me?
Or should I be questioning HIS rationale in playing with human lives?
Or attribute all this to chance?
Or perhaps she was different once..... and it is just us?

Goa: A pictorial..

2011-01-14T09:44:00.000-08:00

Goa is my favorite holiday destination... period. It has always amazed me with different views or alternate angles. This time when the Three Porkeaters (Jai, Rob & myself) set out for Goa we decided to skip the usual spots and instead search for tranquility in the less traversed corners. All of us had been to Goa a few times before and that helped a lot in not falling into the temptations of the 'usual' and 'most popular' locales. Though the sands of Anjuna were inviting enough we preferred to have a delicious lunch of fried fish and rice at a thatched restaurant overlooking the rocky beach. You can sit there for ages, sipping beer and relaxing on one of the recliners there, occasionally chatting up with interesting people around.

Have you ever heard of anyone who returned from Goa without getting one of those temporary tattoos done? We hadn't, and being the kind of folks who don't break traditions, decided to get ourselves tattooed as well. So after breakfast at the famous Britos we let the phoenixes, dragons & sea serpents take life on our arms. And what better way to dry the tattoos than a walk along the lovely grasslands near Little Vagator? They were green & inviting, dragging us away from the rush and noise to the hillocks standing guard along the sea.

The short walk turned into a long one, and then the winding pathway by the hillock took over the reins and we soon climbed a hill overlooking the sea. Standing by a cross at the highest point, it was just the three of us and miles and miles of enchanting ocean... solitude was heartening for once. The crowd along the beach looked much like preying crabs running back and forth the plankton washed ashore by the waves. We sat there an entire afternoon, till we 'discovered' a deserted beach on the other side of the hill. Then it was time for swim and sunbath, in our own, private beach!

The evenings are equally mesmerizing in Goa when the blueness of the ocean, the crimson of the setting sun and the soothing green of the lush fields fight each other for attention and supremacy. As we watch in awe, the fight slowly progresses towards its logical conclusion and the horizon puts on a brutal red hue. Twilight is like a guilty pleasure; in spite of the melancholy it is always a sight to cherish. And as the darkness falls over, like the terns and the gulls we too walked in a hurry, in search of a perch for the night.

But people don't let the nights die young at Goa. They live it up till the wee hours of the morning. As the last rays of natural light retreats, artificial ones take the place and the beaches once again become lively. You sit there watching the lights from the ships anchored in the sea, as they slowly light up the horizon with a silver lining. Night is when Goa unveils her real charm. A walk along the beach in the night is a fitting finale to the day, as the high tide, moon and the Feny conspire to take you higher; higher than the highest clouds!

By next morning we had been miraculously transported to Furtados at Sernabatim. Perhaps we checked in there the previous night after searching for that elusive beach shack at Benaulim and driving around the Leela Kempinski property at Cavelossim. By the time I figured out the story it was time to go out to the beach and help the fishermen pull out the day's catch. As we were found good in pulling the nets ashore, they commissioned us to push the catamaran as well to the shore. Pushing those 26 feet wooden boats over the sand isn't a joke. Good that we had those extra shots of Feny the night before.

Once we started the journey We had two things on our wish list - to go into the outer sea in a catamaran & to spend a night at one of the isolated islands off the coast. The island plans had been shelved the very first day as we learned from fishermen folks at Colva that nobody goes there anymore, as the islands are haunted. We knew it was futile to reason with beliefs and never spoke of the island trip after that. But at Sernabatim we met Savio, proprietor of CS Water Sports. Seeing our enthusiasm, he finally agreed to take us out to the sea on a boat. In another 30 minutes we were 5 kilometers from the shore and happily diving into the calm sea from the deck of the boat! I don't think one whole post can explain the thrill and fun of splashing around in the outer sea, with dolphins for company a few miles away!

Para-sailing was next on the menu.. an equally enjoyable experience as we got an aerial view of the picturesque coastal line. The story is never complete without mentioning the leisurely eleventeens we had at Cafe Lila, a fine eatery serving tasty cakes and beverages by the side of Baga river. The best moments for me was always breakfast time; the lazy feeling of watching the sea and the deserted beach from the comfort of a shack, as you bite into some ham and sausages. A big cup of coffee and a talkative restaurant owner comes free with the package as well!

You cannot help going back to Goa.. even if its the eleventy-oneth time. I know I will be back there soon!

Violins for peace..

2011-01-09T04:10:00.000-08:00

2011 is already on a song. Its hardly a week into it and I have already attended a concert and has another three scheduled over the next one month or so! Don't think I can complain even in my worst nightmares. Apart from the Bryan Adams one in Feb, every other looks pretty offbeat and interesting as well. 'Violins for Peace' last Thursday wasn't any different either. It was this year's edition of the Lakshminarayana Global Music Festival(LGMF) featuring violinists and fiddlers from different parts of the world. LGMF is organised by Dr. L Subramaniam in the memory of his father and Guru Prof. Lakshminarayana.

I reached the venue just in time and wasn't surprised to see that the hall is packed and the organizers had ran out of passes. There were quite a few people waiting outside the entrance, including some very elderly folks. After some persuasion, the organizers finally allowed us to enter and occupy the floor. This seating arrangement was in fact much comfortable than the chairs, as I could stretch my legs and lean on to the wall. The only trouble was that I couldn't see one half of the stage for quite some time as there were people standing around blocking the view. But the experience was well worth the trouble!

- There was an old lady (must be in her eighties) sitting next to me, wearing a fine silk Saree, holding a walking stick in one hand and tapping enthusiastically to the tunes of the Russian gypsy music much like she did for the Carnatic classical songs. Though she gave me the looks initially when I sat beside her on the floor in my jeans and black T Shirt, she was all smiles by the end of the concert.

- The start attraction of the evening was the Russian gypsy band 'Loyko', who entertained the crowd with their fast fiddling and vocals. They could literally make the violins laugh as part of this comedy act they performed between songs.

- Ambi Subramaniam's violin recital of 'Varumo Sakhi' in raaga Keeravani was just brilliant.

- The Norwegian folk songs played by Benedicte, with the accompanied dancing reminded me of 'Pulluvan Paattu', an art form prevalent in Kerala , performed to appease the snake gods.

- There was this minister who was invited as chief guest, who made an ass of himself by announcing cash prizes for the artists every time he was invited on stage. For him this was yet another opportunity to show off or perhaps he was sure that they will never turn up in front of his office demanding the money!

- Something should be done about the people who occupy seats and leave after 10 minutes. These idiots come, buy tickets, parade outside the venue in their designer clothes and walk out by the time the artists are done with the tuning. If you are not really interested why waste a ticket dude?

- And I don't want to comment on those who wear sun glasses during an indoor concert at 7 in the evening.

- There were also performances by Grammy winner jazz violinist Mark O'Connor, classical violinist Catharina Chen and Algerian violinist Kheir Eddine M'Kachiche

- The grand finale was a composition by Dr. L Balasubramaniam, performed by 7 violinists with the accompaniment of a piano, acoustic guitar, tavil and mridangam.

- Outside the concert hall I found a shop selling 'Melody' toffees. As a kid this used to be my favorite toffee. (it still is). I bought enough to last a few months!

There is a fusion concert by Esperanto and an insane evening with The Prodigy on the cards this month. 2011 is rocking!

Resolutions & Delusions !

2011-01-07T07:10:00.000-08:00

Its resolution time again. As I had successfully broken last year's resolutions they were nowhere to be found. Having lost the option of updating the list I wanted them to be actionable and measurable this year. So I decided not to have things like 'Contribute to world peace' and 'campaign for saving cockroaches' from the list. The idea of accountability is a result of the bad company I keep - the clients I interact during work, who root for objectivity and quantitative measurements.

The primary resolution for this year is to eat something other than Poori for breakfast. I have been eating poori every day for the past 6 months or so, except on Sundays and Public holidays when the shop is closed. This is in fact the only remaining link I have with discipline and consistency, after I stopped ritualistic whining a few years ago. But to hell with discipline, I have to get more creative with breakfast. How am I going to keep my eyes off the tasty pooris on display at the shop is the only challenge... probably I have to give standing orders for breakfast delivery at office.

I want to travel, travel more. I have been trekking the Himalayas once every year and now wants to do it twice this year and three times the next and so on progressively. Apart from the joy of crapping in the snow (and of course the mountains) there is also some strategic planning involved in this decision. I am sure they will kick me out of work when I request for five 15 days vacations few years from now, and that is exactly what I am planning to do. I have plans to quit 'work as I know it' and go farming in another 6-7 years. 'Got kicked out of office' is a more explainable excuse in such a situation... like 'cannot drive due to Ataxia' is a more acceptable explanation for not owning a vehicle than 'I do not need a vehicle'.

Mend those relationships broken a few years ago when I focused all my attention on this one individual. I thought the only road to Rome is via Afghanistan and had burned the other route maps. I am a late learner and it took me a while to realize not to make those your priority, for whom you are just an option! The learning was relatively quick considering the fact that I learned the virtues of brushing-teeth-twice-a-day almost after 28 years. That too after the doctor pulled out two of my molars for being 'beyond repair'. what to do, I am big on visual confirmations and convictions. I think all bridges can be repaired as long as there is water flowing underneath it.

Nothing more, nothing less.. its just a three point agenda. Now I only need to wait and see how soon I break these ones and they all end up as mere delusions.

On a different note, saw this posting on a cricket discussion forum - Got to disagree with Mathew Hayden when he said 'I have seen god, he bats at No: 4 for India'. for what has god done to be called Sachin ??. It is perhaps time for the master blaster to change his name to 'Ton'dulker!

Hogenakal Falls & 2010

2010-12-30T17:43:00.000-08:00

Though just after the monsoons is the best time to visit Hogenakal, the place did not disappoint when I visited it in November. Hogenakal is a waterfall across river Kaveri, some 180 kilometers from Bangalore. The coracle ride there is quite an experience.

This picture sums up the place and perhaps the passing year as well.

2010 will be remembered for the laughs, the tears, the travels, the wonder, the good friends, sunshine and all the beer HE blessed us with to quench our thirst; not just as an year that ushered in 2011. And as usual a new year comes with a lot of new hopes and opportunities, hidden beneath the riddles and mysteries of life. We set about conquering the world with renewed vigor and raised expectations, telling ourselves this year belongs to us.

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?" asked Alice
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don’t much care where..." said Alice.
"Then it doesn’t matter which way you go," said the Cat.
"...so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.
"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."
- Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

A wonderful 2011 to you, me and Pluto!

Lost in Transit !

2010-12-28T09:34:00.000-08:00

Its official now. I have lost one of my senses. Which one is the only question. As I am able to read as I write this, and listen to the cling-clang from the neighbor's kitchen as they make chicken, I assume my eyes, ears and nose are pretty much in working condition. I can also feel the chill in the December air and can still talk to animals. So that pretty much covers most of my senses and super powers, except for the most important one. I now have a strong feeling that I have lost my common sense, probably it finally gave up the will to live with me. This abrupt realization is the result of another eventful travel.

I was under the impression that my tough luck with travel has finally run out. I had an almost incident-free trip to Badami couple of weeks back, barring the cockroach-crawling-into-mouth-during-sleep bit. So I was looking forward to this weekend's travel. It did start on a good note - the seats were comfortable than I expected, the bus started moving just 45 minutes after the scheduled time, the driver announced that we will not stop for dinner to compensate the lost time and so on. With the air conditioner in action on an already cool December night, I prayed to Hermes and called on sleep to tide over hunger and cold. But my peaceful sleep was pretty short lived as I woke up to some loud noises.

While I was asleep, it so happened that some gentleman had asked the driver to turn off the AC as he was suffering from severe cold (so much so that his co-passengers did complain a few times about his non-stop sneezing). This in turn irritated a bunch of others seated towards the rear of the bus. As I slowly got hold of the situation, the guy sitting next to me stood up and shouted "Please switch on the AC, people are dying here!". I looked around and not seeing any dead people, finally at this soon-to-be-late gentleman with horror. He was quite a conglomerate of flesh (Visualize Mike Tyson with an ugly face); who can easily survive at least a couple of months without breathing. He claimed that he was feeling claustrophobic and breathless as the AC is switched off. Soon he earned a few supporters who shouted 'aye aye' from the back and I even heard a whistle.

The two foreigners sitting across got up from hibernation and looked at each other, not knowing what the commotion is all about. As the hue and cry for bringing back the air conditioner gained momentum, the gentleman with the cold made an entry with a powerful sneeze. He tried to explain how the AC vent which is directly above his head made him sneeze every other second. As if waiting for a gap, Tyson shrieked "How can 50 people sit inside the bus without any air circulation? If you have issues with the seat, come and sit somewhere in the back". But soon the driver interfered and agreed to adjust the AC to the comfort of both sides. This was the third time my sleep was disturbed - the other two times Tyson wanted to go pee and pull out his Pink iPod from the bag. I had almost made up my mind to punch him on his face.

To be honest, I never felt any suffocation, except when disturbed in sleep. I never even thought till that minute that I am perhaps inhaling the air that was exhaled by some of my co-passengers. I wasn't terrified by the thought that all the Oxygen in the air will soon be used up by the passengers and we all then die of Carbon Dioxide poisoning. There should be something wrong with me.. right? It has to be the common sense, the sense that I lost in transit.

The fun is that people got carried away with their arguments thinking they all reach their destinations before daybreak and can escape without seeing each others' faces in the light. But by a strange stroke of luck, the bus got delayed by 6 hours and the warring parties had to sit across the same table for breakfast and lunch! Not to mention, we all parted as good friends. Tyson even called and wished me on X'mas day!

The Great Indian inter-faith marriage !

2010-12-26T19:28:00.000-08:00

My sister got married recently. An otherwise happy and benign occasion unfortunately got branded an 'evil affair' by some folks, as she chose to marry someone from another faith. The situation necessitated me taking the official spokesperson's role on behalf of the immediate family. Though my job started on a scary note, it became increasingly interesting a role, as I learned not to reason or argue but listen and nod instead. The ones who called me to offer condolences though did get a sermon for free.

As the drama slowly unfolded, everyone including the neighbor's cow had an opinion. A lot of relatives whom I had classified as hardliners turned out to be moderates while those who were considered liberals turned out to be Ayatollah Khomenis. Though no fatwas were declared, each one of these funny characters did try their best to influence the situation and elicit a favorable outcome out of it. I know I cannot point fingers at the septuagenarians and sexagenarians of the lot; it is difficult to change your convictions and beliefs after walking the earth for more than half a century. But I was taken by surprise with the reaction of some of the more-educated, younger folks... many of which I completely understood later on further scrutiny!

The priests and nuns in the family (yes, we too have our share of them) were the most upset of the lot; understandably so. For them it is important to hold on, proclaim and protect the faith; else how can they justify all the sacrifices they have made in the name of it. For someone who has submitted their entire life for religion, any attempt to rock the boat is a threat to their very existence. So when they advised the parents to renounce their daughter as she walk away from THE God and THE Path, I could only smile. Some of them had clever ways of putting across the point. One of the nun-aunts called my sister, congratulated her on the marriage and appreciated her on the choice as well. While my sister was trying to come in terms with the unexpected compliments, my aunt quietly threw in a Trojan - 'This is an opportunity for you to get an entire family to know Jesus Christ'. Hallelujah!

Another acquaintance came home to 'educate' my parents on how their decision to let my sister marry an 'outsider' is against THE book. She had also brought with her a propaganda pamphlet on the evils of inter-faith marriage, written by some self proclaimed spiritual leader of the church. This book had excerpts from the Bible, occasions when it talk about the consequences of marrying from outside the Israel community. The gentleman who wrote this booklet had quoted from the Bible without explaining the context and had carefully omitted passages that go against his argument. I enjoyed telling this acquaintance, the story of God supporting the decision of Moses in marrying a non-Israelite woman (Numbers, Chapter 12). That kind of settled the issue at least for then. I wrote a letter to the priest who wrote the booklet about his work, but haven't received a reply yet; not that I expected one.

There were a few others who stayed away for another interesting reason. They didn't want their kids to think that the resistance from family is just a matter of few days, and things will be alright after that. What if the kids pick up a cue and follow suit? So they wanted the family to disown my sister, so that 'other kids in the family' don't make an example of this and choose their life partners outside the faith. Nice try..eh..?

In a generation where people are already fighting each other in the name of religion, I don't think this mentality helps. We create a divide among kids when they are young, by preaching they are a superior race, God's chosen people etc. Then how do we expect them to coexist and co-operate later in life, with the so called lesser mortals? We don't realize that these kind of fanatic teachings at a young age have lasting effect on their impressionable minds, often critically affecting their future decision making.

Lepakshi

2010-11-30T09:42:00.000-08:00

The trip to Lepakshi was a premature baby born out of a boring weekend affair with the city. If you aren't a certified 'Mall Rat' who is fond of shopping, there is nothing much to do in the city on a typical weekend. I already have a huge backlog of books to read and hence a trip to the bookstore wasn't an option either. I had to get out somewhere before another boring Sunday consumes me. I prefer to spend my money on experiences and not things, even at the risk of being called an irresponsible, unstable idiot by people around me. I have in fact learned to smile and walk away without responding from such people, for whom you are just an option.

So searching for a destination I can comfortably cover in a day's time, I zeroed in on Lepakshi. My good friend Subhasish also agreed to join me this time, to find out what I actually do on these trips. He had serious doubts on my real intentions in frequenting these old temples and forts. Lepakshi is a small village situated some 14Kms from Hindupur, in Anantapur district of Andhra Pradesh. It is famous for the temple of Veerabhadra constructed in the 14th Century and the mural paintings of the Vijayanagara period. There are KSRTC buses to Hindupur from Majestic bus station in Bangalore, and there are frequent buses between Hindupur and LePakshi as well.

There are two stories - one mythological and another historical - behind the name 'Lepakshi'.The mythological story dates Lepakshi town back to the days of the Ramayana. It is said that Lord Rama found the mythical bird Jatayu lying wounded here, its wings were cut off by Ravana when he abducted Sita. Lord Rama said 'le pakshi' (rise bird) and the bird rose. Hence, this place was named as Lepakshi. The historic story is about Virupanna, the treasurer of the Vijayanagara king Achutaraya, who was in charge of the temple construction at Lepakshi. Virupanna's enemies reported to the emperor that the treasury funds were being misused by him. In those days, it was customary to pluck the eyes of the keeper of the royal treasury if he was found guilty of theft. Virupanna being a loyal servant, carried out the order with his own hands, and two dark stains are visible on the west wall of the southern entrance of the inner enclosure, which are said to be the marks made by his eyes, which he himself threw at the wall. Thus came the name 'Lepa Akshi' which means plucked eyes.

There are quite a few architectural marvels in the temple complex. The Natyamandapa is the finest part of the temple. It is supported on 70 excellently sculptured pillars, the 12 pillars in the center forming a court. Life size sculptures of dancers and musicians are carved on to all the pillars. One of the pillars is a 'hanging pillar', well almost. Unlike regular pillars which are built bottom up, this one is fixed on the top, but only an edge touches the ground. You can kneel down and slide a sheet of paper or cloth under it to see the gap. The guide told us an interesting story about it - this hanging pillar, one of the 70 there, is the representation of the lead-dancer in a group, who is generally picturized with his/her one leg up. There is also another story of a British engineer, who wanted to know how the temple was supported by the pillars and tried to displace one of it. It is said that the attempt caused the movement of as many as 10 pillars around, to maintain the balance.

The Shivlinga protected by a seven hooded serpent, found outside the Natyamandapa, is another interesting piece of art in the complex. The base of this sculpture has a crack and there are interesting stories about both the 'Shivlinga' and the crack. According to the legend, the sculpture was cut out by a workman of the temple during the rest hour, while his mother was getting his meal ready. On arriving with his meal his mother expressed her surprise and admiration; whereupon the stone base developed a crack, as if under the evil influence of the unlucky words of praise! Irrespective of the rights and wrongs of the legend, it is a mighty sculpture to look at. Another beautiful structure 'casually' carved out, again during rest hour is the Nandi, half a kilometer away from the main temple. It is a remarkable piece of work, about 15 feet high, and is one of the biggest Nandis in the country.

There is also a huge footprint mark on one of the rocks, which is said to be the foot print of the goddess Durga. The unfinished Kalyanamantapa (marriage hall) is another treat to watch, which depicts the marriage of Siva and Parvathi, with the sculptures of prominent guests, including the Ashtadikpalakas carved on the pillars. There are quite a few small shrines inside the inner sanctum, dedicated to Hanuman, Parvathi, Bhadrakali etc. The main god Veerabhadra is considered an angry version of Siva and hence you are not supposed to walk right up to him as you enter the temple. So unlike other temples, as soon as you enter you take a right turn, see an idol of Ganesh, then take a left and see the sanctum sanctorum. The mural paintings all along the walls and roofs tell many an interesting stories. The crocodile and the monkey, and the little prince who killed a calf are some of the uncommon characters you see in those stories, in addition to the usual suspects, the Gods and Goddesses!

A visit to Lepakshi is quite an experience if you have an eye for ancient architecture or structural beauty in general. I consider it a day well spent and my friend Subhasish was for once impressed with me. He now has some reason to believe me when I say I am on a trip to some historic spot elsewhere!

More pictures here.

Conversations with Pluto - Felis Do'mystica'

2010-11-27T23:17:00.000-08:00

'What is that fluffy thing outside your door?', Pluto almost barked at me while trying hard to control his breath. Pluto is my neighbor's cat who spends most of his time at my place. He was visibly disturbed.

'It is no 'fluffy thing', it is a dog'

'Oh.. thank you for the info. Who put it there?'

'Nobody put it there. It just came the other day and put itself out there'. The poor dog had walked in to escape the rain and then found my doormat quite comfortable to leave.

'Then, you should throw it out. It is creating issues in my safe transit between places'.
'Let the poor thing be there. She won't bite you', I said.
'Oh my goodness. You never told me its a 'she', Pluto's eyes lit up like a bulb.
'So what?, what difference it is going to make?'

'You have no idea. Soon this place will be full of puppies'
Come on! You are being too paranoid'
'Why do you think they are called Canis 'Family'aris?

Without giving me a moment to understand the pun, he continued 'And puppies, they stink!'
'No, they don't'
'At least their poop does'
'Whatever'

'We should perhaps call her Boo'
'That is so mean'
'Not the Boo in Hindi; Boo as in 'Me and you and the dog named Boo..'
'Wow! Never knew you are a Lobo fan'

'You don't know anything about me dude. Cats are always mysterious. That is why we are called Felis Do'mystica', he said with a wink.

Amen!

PS: Our conversations on Free will and Predicting Future and the Paunch.

Pop stories !

2010-11-18T03:36:00.001-08:00

I happened to hear two Pop and Son stories the past week. They weren't really funny, but interesting.

One story is about a Dad, who during one of those knowledge transfer sessions advised sonny boy to keep his tail folded nicely between his legs, tightly wrapped around and protecting the balls, instead of keeping it upright at the face of the world. He wanted the son to take the shortest routes in life than shooting for the longer but cleaner ones. He probably did not want to see his beloved son being stoned by the angry majority as he makes his sermon from the mount, against the so called absurdities of the world. I would have understood the intentions of such an advice if given to some bad ass who joined Greenpeace or campaigned for world peace. But all that he ever did in life was questioning some priests. And anyone who has ever walked into a place of worship, except to escape the rain, would understand this behavior.

I am not sure it is the right thing to sit back and blame the generation for its Lady Gaga culture and not provide real support when it matters.

And there is this other story where the son begs the father to come and stay with him, only to take care of the new addition to the family. The son is annoyed that his parents devoted two years raising his sister's kid, but refused to volunteer for the same profile when it was his turn. Pretty logical..eh? Can't blame him for thinking that he could use the experience they had in raising a bum like him. So he had an argument on the need of him getting his share of their time, while he and his wife could go about making some more money.

Who am I to pass comments on other people's lives anyway!

Conversations with Pluto - The Paunch

2010-11-12T23:51:00.000-08:00

"Ever noticed that all the so called happy characters have huge paunches, while our idea of health and well-being is still about six packs and flat stomachs?", asked Pluto as we were enjoying a much deserved siesta after a sumptuous lunch that Sunday afternoon. Pluto is my neighbor's cat who spends most of his time at my place.

I did not give much attention to his rant as the wine in the 'Fish Wine-daloo' we prepared had just kicked in. I thought some chick would have passed a comment on his prosperous belly for which he is cooking up some excuse now. Moreover I generally stay away from any discussion where I am on the losing side. But he was in no mood to let go the argument.

'Take the case of Santa Claus, Laughing Buddha, lord Ganesha, Garfield or Obelix', said Pluto.

'What about them', I asked.

'There was a time when paunch was considered a sign of prosperity and happiness, and not a symptom of gastronomic problems or addiction to beer. That was when Websters had a single entry on stomach, and the definition was devoid of internationally accepted, UN approved measurements for the same'

Without waiting for my reaction he continued.. 'Like the Model T, they used to come in just one size and type- the 'stomach'. Outlandish terms like Pot belly, Beer belly, Apple belly, Pear belly, Pork belly and Muffin top were not part of the language then'

'Ahem! So, what is the point', I asked again.

Now that he got my attention, he stood up and slowly unraveled his theory. 'Eating to heart's content was not a crime those days and its consequence was thus considered benign. The only rules applicable to consumption of food were - Eat when you can, Eat all you can. Convenience, availability & ability to digest were the only considerations. What to eat, when to eat and how much to eat were all rules brought in later by authors of religious texts like Bible, whose idea of a full meal was dividing five breads and two fishes between 5000 people.'

'Thus came the idea of over-eating and ugly-paunch', he concluded.

'So you mean to say that all this hoopla about abdominal obesity is just lunacy?' I wasn't ready to take his argument lying down. I got up and leaned my body against the wall.

'Precisely', said Pluto. 'If nature wanted us to have flat stomachs it would have created us that way. After inhaling all this nourishing air day and night, all this while, if our nose can stay pretty much in shape, then it definitely isn't a mistake that the stomach is growing in size'

'Wonderful. So if I translate your rant into plain English, the claim that central obesity is associated with a higher risk of heart disease is just eye wash...eh?'

'You got it! I don't remember reading about Obelix or Santa Claus dying of heart failure. Do you? Is it that they did not have hearts after all?' He chuckled.

'Aha! Then there are no side effects of having a pork belly. Is that what you suggest?'

'No.. no.. Of course there are side effects. There is reason to believe that a prominent paunch can hamper normal sex life', He said with a wink.

'Now how do you arrive at that? Because Obelix & Santa Claus doesn't feature in Masters & Johnson?'

'Oohoho.. it is much simpler dude. Tell me the name of Santa Claus' daughter.. or Obelix's son?'

'They didn't have kids', I said.

'Now, that's the point!', I could see his stomach making waves as Pluto laughed away to glory.

PS: Our conversations on Free will and Predicting Future.

4 reasons to watch the 1st half of Enthiran !

2010-11-05T04:29:00.000-07:00

Let me make myself clear, I am not suggesting that you should watch just the first half of Enthiran. It is that I cannot comment on the second half as I was forcibly removed from the theater a short while after the interval. Couple of my friends told that I did deserve every bit of that treatment, though they had a difference in opinion about the exact reason. While one attributed it to the excessive sound of my snoring, the other placed it one degree higher - the arrogance and utter irreverence of sleeping through a movie of his Rajniness.

I know that I am kind of late to come up with a review on Enthiran. Grady Hendrix has already written much about the awesomeness of the miracle birth, mysterious evolution and elevation to fame of Rajnikanth. In a momentary lapse of consciousness induced by jet-lag, India Today editor Aroon Purie also shamelessly reused a part of the Grady article in an edition of the magazine dedicated to the superstar from 'Tamilnadu, a south Indian state'. I also understand that I am trying to comprehend something which is beyond my grasp, like trying to explain what prompts a dog to lift its leg every time it sees a telephone pole. But anyway, let me add my two cents to what has already been said about his Rajniness.

The Double Role
We all know that no one character can completely accommodate all the acting power of Rajnikant. You cannot let the same character be a Rocket scientist and a rock band guitarist, right? Effectively that prevents his Rajniness from showing off his mathematical and riffing abilities in the same movie. He needs a range of different characters to express his talent properly and that is where Enthiran has at least tried to do some justice. By acting as the villain and the hero, his Rajniness has showcased the two contrasting extremes of his acting repertoire here. Don't think it is easy to wear a wig and act loony one moment and then switch to a funny robotic attire and blast cars the very next!

It's a name changer
Rajni movies are always game changers. While some idiotic movie makers spend years writing the script and scouting for shooting locations, the wise ones down south just rope in his Rajniness and think of the story during post production. But this time the movie is not just a game changer, but a name changer. I just heard that the Peruvian government is planning to officially change the name of Machu Pichu to Kilimanjaro. That is the only option available, as their tourism department now receives an average 300K inquiries a week about the right time to visit Kilimanjaro. That is the power of his Rajniness.. he shot a song titled 'Kilimanjaro' in front of Machu Pichu and half the world now thinks it is Kilimanjaro. I personally think it is a good move by the Peruvian government, as his Rajniness CAN (and only he can) hold an apple and say it is a pig, almost immediately ratifying the old Greek belief that pigs are grown on trees. I always had this suspicion that he is the one behind the Madras-Chennai, Bombay-Mumbai name changes!

The Science
There are so many hypotheses floating around in the academic and scientific circles about the awesomeness of Rajnikant. Though most people (except for the Japanese) think that Rajni movies are all about idiotic and impossible stunts, I personally think Rajni is probably the very proof of time travel, wormholes, multiple universes and the Grand Unification theory wrapped into one. They say two dimensions or universes only differ by the outcome of a quantum event. So if a quantum event has a particular outcome in our universe, some other universe would have had the opposite outcome as well! So for all those logic defying acts, all Rajnikant needs to do is to travel between the different universes and guide the desirable outcome to our own. I bet he uses time-travel to accomplish this feat, through wormholes between the dimensions. And to do something of this magnitude, you wouldn't argue if I say that Rajnikant needs absolute control over the electric, weak & strong forces of Nature. In short his Rajniness IS that what unifies all the forces of nature - proof of the Grand Unification Theory people like Einstein were searching for ages.

His Rajniness
I for one never underestimated his Rajniness. But if you really want to get sloshed by it, watch 'The Expendables' before the Eindhran experience. Both the movies got a sexagenarian acting as the protagonist. While Sylvester Rambo Stallone looks like carrying a glued-together, botox-filled face on his shoulders, his Rajniness shines like the sun with his wrinkle-free, pimple-less face. I could even see the reflection of Aishwarya Rai on his face whenever she came close to him. What do you mean 'Its all makeup'? It wasn't available in the Holy-woods for Mr. stallone or what? And with all the muscles and inflated body, Mr. Rambo could handle only a Noveske N4 in The Expendables, while his Rajniness was celebrating an early Diwali with half a dozen Bazookas in Eindhran, that too with his left hand.

So the final score,: His Rajniness - 2, John Rambo - 0.
Do I need to say more?

A date with Destiny

2010-10-11T18:19:00.000-07:00

It was all destiny in hindsight. After the Thadiyandamol camping, the 'Four Pork-eaters' got together once again for another memorable trip. This time the destination was a farm called 'Destiny', about 25 kilometers off Ootty. We all had heard much about the beauty of this place and Jaideep had done all the reservations in advance to avoid any last minute surprises. So it was just a matter of dragging our ass out there.

We -Jai, Chevy, Rob & myself- started early morning that Saturday in Jai's Red Dragon. The trip was uneventful till we reached the forest check-post at Tamilnadu border. Seeing four innocent young chaps inside the car, the guard politely asked to open up the bags for checking. As if to validate Murphy's Law, he pointed exactly at Jai's bag and gleefully pulled out a bottle of Talisker from it! He said we cannot carry alcohol across states without a permit and all the usual stories. Jai tried his best to explain that this is not just 'alcohol' but imported scotch, the only single malt from the Island of Skye, which already survived the customs check at the Frankfurt & Bangalore airports. The grin on the guard's face turned into a full smile at the lucky find. But probably because the bottle was already open and we were not drunk and he was a teetotaler and all of us were members of 'Rakhi Sawant Fan Club' on Facebook, he let us go without much trouble.

But trouble was waiting in another form just around the corner.. this time it wasn't Talisker, but tuskers. Seeing the elephants we all got down and started taking pictures. We kept our distance and they too didn't mind being photographed, till a moron in another car and started honking continuously. Irritated by the noise, one of elephants charged at us and in a matter of seconds all four of us were inside the car. Without any further incidents we reached Ootty and reported at King's Cliff by lunch time for our pickup. King's Cliff is an old colonial bungalow converted to a beautiful hotel. After a good lunch and apple pies we decided to drive down to the farm instead of taking the transportation arranged by the hotel. Destiny farm's parking lot is exactly 22.6 kilometers from Ootty bus station towards Avalanchi & Emerald dams. It was drizzling and the drive is through awesome locales. We stopped near Emerald dam for another photo-shoot and finally reached the parking lot by early evening.

The farm is about 3 kilometers from the parking space and the road goes through some real tough terrain. You cannot drive all the way to the farm, but will be picked up in an old Shaktiman truck or jeep from the parking lot. Comprising of a valley, hills, a beautiful lake, a stable full of Horses, a dairy full of Cows, a hutch with Rabbits and guinea pigs, Geese & Sheep, Destiny is a self sufficient farm on the edge of wilderness in the Niligiri Biosphere. The rooms named after great explorers and scientists, and furnished with warm wooden flooring, country furniture and fireplaces, open up towards the hills, the farm and the lake below. If you've ever wanted to get the feel of a country house in the wild west, this IS the place! After roaming around for a while we soon settled into our room named after 'Carl Linnaeus'. The fire was lit, food was served and in no time we crawled under the blankets for a wonderful night of sleep.

Next day morning the view was spectacular with a full rainbow stretching across the valley. I always wanted to catch the rainbow and soon rushed out to the nearby hill, hoping to touch base with the beauty. But like many beautiful things in life it kept on shifting places, always at arms' reach but still too far to grasp. There was a football field atop the hill next to the stables. So after a quick breakfast, we came back to the field for a game of football. The field was muddy and it was real fun to play football in the rain. Another group from Chennai also joined us soon and someone or other kept falling down every other minute. After an hour long match we visited the stables while Rob went for a horse ride to the nearby hillocks. We had a great time walking around the lake and the farm, clicking pictures of the geese and the sheep.

Post lunch we started back to Bangalore and after another brush with a bunch of elephants on the way, reached the city late in the evening. The folks at the farm have a saying "When you come to Destiny, that's really what it is." We couldn't agree more!

More pictures here!

Pre Marriage Flux

2010-10-05T09:14:00.000-07:00

My mom's been cross with me for quite some time for not agreeing to get married. According to her I have already past prime, and as my grandmother says 'at your age, your grand father and me had 3 kids!'. Somehow I had managed to stay away from this debate till now, saying I don't want to get married just because I am getting old. I should have a better reason for doing so than gray hairs, receding headline, number of birthdays and peer pressure. But all hell broke loose after mom learned that her brother has finalized the marriage of my cousin sister; who is six years younger to me! She had enough. She formally conveyed to me that now it is a matter of family pride for her to get at least one of her own, walk the aisle. My argument that marriage is not a competition item was vehemently opposed by tooth and nail and even tears.

Her requirements were also very stringent this time. Just a green flag to the bride search over phone was totally unacceptable. She wanted me to drag my ass home and visit a few prospects she fish out of all the matrimonial websites. In a momentary lapse of consciousness brought about by emotions, I dropped my guard and agreed to visit home over the weekend. This was one moment I underestimated my mom, or more accurately the power of wounded pride. In two days' time she called me back with details on a bunch of prospective brides. I was aghast, to say the least, at the pace at which things were moving, but the best was yet to come. She went ahead and arranged meetings with one of them over the weekend! I had to put on a really elaborate 'sick-and-down' act to prevent this mishap from happening.

I am generally not very comfortable with formal interview sessions. Give me an open field with no restrictions on the topics to brag about, I will look like an evangelist pastor on steroids. But if you make me sit across the table from a few serious looking people, with whom I am supposed to converse in civilized tongue, I act more like a lazy sloth. Most of my job interviews fortunately start with some comment on my name, 'Were your Dad drunk when he named you Disney', or something of that taste. That gives me the necessary upper hand, as I use a set of pre-prepared and well rehearsed dialogues to tell them how I resembled Mickey mouse when the nurse brought me out of the labor room, and so on. But presenting your case of husband-ship, for the kind consideration of a girl is a totally different ballgame. I had hugely underestimated the 'herculianness' of this task. Its no 'Venio Video Vinco' !

I shivered at the thought of such 'Meet the Parents' sessions, based on the experiences of friends and relatives. I even started getting weird dreams for the next few days, all of them featuring me in a courtroom, interrogated by people!

Scene 1: The Bride's Father
'So where do you work?", asked the prospective father-in-law.
'I work for a small company of 12 people', I replied, beaming with pride and expecting some appreciation on my risk taking abilities.
'Only twelve?', he asked in disbelief and I moved forward, stretching my hands to catch his eyeballs as they jump out of the socket.
"So you did not get into Infosys or Wipro", asked the girl's father who was eager to dismiss the case at the earliest.

In God's own country, working for one of the Big Three is an essential requirement to get a girl from a decent family. Infosys, Wipro & TCS are the most frequently used three words in Kerala, after Jesus Christ, fresh fish, Gulf, Bandh and Beverages-Corporation. Any one who doesn't work for these three companies are considered worthless, irrespective of whether they did their education in Law, Geography or Parapsychology.

I tried to explain more about the job and the passion involved, but it all ended up like a soliloquy as he invited me for a cup of coffee. He switched gears swiftly and started talking about the monsoon, and I got the idea!

Scene 2: Miss Congeniality
"So you go to St.Thomas or St.Antony's on Sundays", she asks as if she already knew my Achiles Heel.

I took a minute or two to decide whether to tell her how I wandered around the city to locate the church a week before - to meet a friend after the Sunday's service. Religion and Theology are anyway not my forte, unless the point is to argue against it.

So in a miserable attempt to diffuse the tension and put a humorous twist to the occasion, I told her 'HE might get down from the cross and run out of the church -even forgetting that he is improperly clothed to suit the situation- if I walk into the church'

Her mouth opened wide like the bonnet of a car, perhaps annoyed at my casual way of taking the lord's name! Even though I tried telling her that I prefer St. Patrick's because of the good choir, I could see the disinterest in her smile.

She asked me only one thing after this 'What is the capital of Uzbekistan', for which I did not have an answer.

Clever Advertising ?

2010-09-24T00:13:00.000-07:00

"Caution: Wash your hands properly after applying oil on head, to avoid excessive hair growth on your hands". Saw this warning in a print advertisement for an Ayurvedic hair-oil.

Either it is some clever advertising or this one is the real deal! I have never seen such a statement in any other hair-oil advertisements, though it makes super sense to be present in every one of them if they really do what they claim. Or is it that the other ones are precisely engineered to affect only the hair on your head? Quite unlikely.

I know this one statement is no guarantee of the authenticity of the product. But taking it on face value, what if I accidentally apply some oil on my forehead or neck? Now that is scary (hairy?).

Stories from friends !

2010-09-15T20:56:00.000-07:00

Some of us friends from college had a get-together the other day. After the initial pleasantries, as expected, everyone started talking about those 'good old days'. How two guys were kicked out for preparing tea in the Chemistry laboratory using a burner and the measuring jar, during one of the Practical sessions. How someone was caught writing sexually explicit poetry in the examination hall,and his explanation for the same - free paper and better utilization of time. How twelve guys from one class participated in the Fashion Contest, wearing the same dress (read 'cloak') made of worn out curtain cloth. How some of the relationships of those days got pushed deep down to the basement of life as we all moved on. Everything looked funny and beautiful as we craned our necks and looked back.

It is ironic that we all wanted to get out of this 'fun place' as early as possible, to grab the opportunities outside. Those days, nirvana was all about getting a job and enjoying life thereafter. We were more like dogs chasing cars.. wanted to chase and conquer life, but hardly had a clue on what to do with life once we get hold of it. Now with secure jobs and considerable 'disposable income' in hand, we felt we were better off in college, chasing dreams. As the booze settled in, discussions moved on to more hilarious topics leaving the dissatisfaction and frustrations alone. Nothing helps getting over own disgusted feelings than finding the same in others around you. No two of us share the same workplace and hence everyone brought a different set of stories to the table. Here are a few.

How do you survive in the courtroom as a relatively new Advocate? A dear friend vouches that non-verbal communication can make or break your case in the courtroom. The following are two of his favorite tricks.

- When the case is going against you, gently tap the left side of your chest, right over the pocket, and plead "Have properly instructed sir!". The actual message conveyed here is 'I have been paid in advance for this case which will forcibly be taken away if the ruling is against my party. So please have mercy'.

- If the first trick doesn't work and the judge denies your motion, try this. Move your right hand from over the pocket and draw concentric circles on your stomach with your stretched palm, saying "But, there is provision my lord". The message conveyed through this seemingly innocent action is something like "It is a matter of daily bread my lord; I am totally dependent on this case's fee for survival."

Now here is a story told by another friend, about the youth wing leader of a political party, who might one day sit on a legislator's chair and rule over you and me.

One day our hero sets out to collect some money for party fund with his entourage. The donor is an elderly Muslim gentleman, who is a local administrator of the 'Non Resident Indians Association'. After accepting the handsome amount, the leader breaks into a well rehearsed monologue, highlighting his commitment towards social service. He then contrasts it with the current generation's disinterest in History and culture. Things were looking good and the Muslim gentleman was quite absorbed by the speech. Then like an unexpected fart, the leader switched topics and remarked, "Looks like that dark patch on your forehead has grown bigger than the last time we met". Before the stunned entourage could stop him, he continued, "I know a skin specialist near my house, if you want I can talk to him".

Before the gentleman could react, the followers somehow managed to drag their leader out of his arm's reach. So much for his interest in history & culture!

Hospitals aren't fun!

2010-09-11T10:19:00.000-07:00

Going to the hospital is one of the most intimidating situations for me, unless its the dentist we are talking about. Don't know whether its the idea, the ambiance, the smell or the situation that's the real culprit, but its quite an ordeal. So you can imagine the effect as I walked into the waiting room of the Regional Oncology Research Center, joining a sea of people who are hanging on to the last straw of hope, considering the nature of the beast. But the situation was much different from what I expected. Though there were people trying hard to conceal the visible effects of the condition or its treatment, the mood was generally upbeat. I don't remember seeing a larger group of compassionate, sensitive and smiling people anywhere else.

As if taking the messages conveyed by the inspirational posters to their heart, I found people were generally in an optimistic frame of mind. Unlike other hospital scenes I have been part of, I did not hear anyone yelling, shouting or even raising the voices here. Everyone behaved like a bunch of well trained nursery kids. There were 9 year olds to 90 year olds, all in the same boat. Everyone talked to each other. There was no introductions required as if some kind of camaraderie evolved out of the shared situation. It was interesting that nobody even asks why you are there.. everyone seems to know. If you are an observer, then you might not be able to relate to any of the strange behavior that's happening around. You just look at the display screens, wonder why they call out the age of patients with their name and so on. But when you are one amongst the many who await the turn, everything makes super sense. You can almost see the whole process working relentlessly and without fault like a well oiled piece of machinery.

There is only one place that is more intimidating than the waiting room - the doctor's cabin. Anyone who sits inside for a few minutes with his eyes and ears open, will come out with a heavy heart and modified world views. I think that's enlightenment of the best kind...the one that's born out of conviction mixed with an overdose of reality. As I sat there watching the doctors in action, I realized the real meaning of 'transiency', 'mortality' and 'fear'. I saw a person whose mouth opens into his nasal cavity as the pallet was missing... rather removed. I sat there picturing his nasal septum fluttering left and right with every breath he takes. At the end of the consultation I could hear this inevitable question being asked to every patient about their preference - RT or surgery, as if you are given a choice between Gold & Platinum!

I take a walk when I get disturbed, and I did the same here. To my amusement I saw some billboards promoting an exclusive showroom for condoms, 'Planet Moods'. I think this is the height of choice. I am not sure whether people go to an exclusive showroom to buy condoms. Imagine someone walking into the condom shop looking for a khadi condom to celebrate Gandhi's birthday, a tricolor condom to celebrate the Independence day or a ventilated condom to beat the heat. I wonder!

Hairy Troubles !

2010-09-09T04:41:00.000-07:00

OK, I got a Grey hair or two on my head. My hair is also falling at the rate of a dozen a day. I might get bald pretty soon as well. All these are facts and I know them too. But that doesn't mean that you can just walk up to me and tell this on my face, four times a day like a course of antibiotics. I haven't got a cactus where my heart should be (idea courtesy: The Magnetic Fields) to pretend that I did not hear it all the four times. This is exactly what the guys from the homeopathic clinic,Dr. Batras, been doing for the last couple of weeks. They have been sending four SMSes a day to my mobile phone, as if I am using their phone on rent.

They aren't the only guys who use my phone to expand their business empires. But the insurance companies never tell me that I will die one day and then my family will be begging on the streets if I don't take a policy now. Though Insurance is only as useful as a custom made Maple wood coffin for me, I don't get offended by their advertisements. Ya, once or twice I would have asked some telecalling executive to marry me in return for the policy, but then who wouldn't if they call during the afternoon power-naps. But the Batra's guys are outright irritating with their messages like "Don't ignore hair loss, treat it before it gets too late!".

Baldness is probably one of those incurable conditions like craving for ice-cream and tendency to look at beautiful creatures with long hair and interesting curves (not Yaks). Perhaps there is nothing to cure - baldness is just a natural progression from confusion to clarity, from darkness to light! I thought of looking up the picture of Mr. Batra, expecting to see a bald patch the size of undivided Russia on his head, thereby confirming the cure claim to be some kind of joke. This was not a random act of vengeance, as I know a friend of mine who used to work for Dr. Batra's, who still proudly carries around his reflector head. Though I did not find the Russia I was looking for, I can still argue that Dr. Batra got pretty thin hair for someone who sells the miracle cure.

I feel much better now!

Chaos

2010-08-28T07:59:00.000-07:00

It is interesting to see how we react as a society to even the slightest of changes. A small deviation from the so called 'normal' sequence of life, and everything goes haywire. The change may be as simple as an unexpected morning drizzle. City life gets thrown off balance when the city center gets a mild shower at 7 in the morning. Some kind of crazy panic grabs people which

prompts them to act weird. The traffic gets worse as everybody try to squeeze through or zoom past to 'safety' before the next cloud burst.

All this is not result of some flash floods or water clogging. The drizzle wasn't even strong enough to clean all that bird shit off poor Gandhi's face. Even a cloudy sky seem to provoke this behavior these days; one of those rare occasions that gets the crowd to work together towards a common goal.

Probably all the order and stability that we see around are just failed attempts at creating chaos! All the confusion and panic is perhaps a natural progression to a more logical conclusion beyond systems in equilibrium.

Another Onam !

2010-08-23T06:35:00.000-07:00

You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead.. The Beatles

Onam had a very special place in life as a kid. Those ten days of freedom from school and studies were much anticipated. There were too many attractions - the swing, the early morning rush to pluck the flowers, the delicacies from all neighboring houses, the floral decorations and the general festive atmosphere. After the monsoon, every shrub and weed around the house had a bright colored flower at the end of every branch. I always wanted to keep that tradition alive, just to get a feel of the season and the excitement associated with it.

I was happy to get up today morning and go out searching for flowers with my sisters. It was drizzling, monsoon doesn't keep the schedule these days it seems. The Marsh Marigold patch was still there along the river. Apart from that there were very few flowers around the house. Lantana, one of the most abundant flowers during the season was not to be seen anywhere. The Morning Glory had just two flowers on it. Looks like most of the plants have deferred their flowering season to avoid their precious seeds being destroyed. Perhaps its evolution and natural selection in play, or perhaps I am reading too much into 'The Origin' these days.

The floral decoration is done, I am happy that we did not break the tradition. Its raining outside, nothing much to do than savor the delicacies... What a way to start a week!

The Men Who Stare at Goats

2010-08-13T03:28:00.000-07:00

I should have gone ahead and sacrificed that goat the last time I had a bad experience during travel. Or when misfortune struck many times before that. But I just made fun of Hermes, boasted that there is no God of travel; that even if there is one he is busy picking on his opponents. I was terribly wrong in my assumptions and HE got back at me with vengeance. Looks like I have to put a leash on my blasphemous outbursts.

She looked almost like a female version of Jesus Christ...all the charm minus the mustache and the beard. I was on my way back home after visiting my cousin and she came and sat opposite to me in the bus. She had pink nail polish on, and was wearing a striped T-shirt. Though the horizontal stripes made her look a little chubby, I gave her a 9.5 on 10 in the looks department. As soon as she settled down, she had a gulp of water from the water bottle, stroked a strand of hair off her face and took out a book from her hand bag. I myself was reading 'Almost Like a Whale' and was eager to know what she got. But before I could figure out the title she opened the book and started reading. It is kind of an uncontrollable itch for me, till I find out what the other person is reading... just curiosity. So I kept looking up from my book every now and then, hoping to get a glimpse of the title.

Though I was very discreet in my attempts not to catch her attention, eventually she got wind of my glances. Two fiery eyes rose up from behind the book and directed a beam of deadly laser straight at my face. Then only I noticed that she was resting the book on her well endowed bosom, using it as a book-rest, and I've been constantly staring that way! I realized the blunder and looked apologetically at her. How can you explain a female-in-fury that you were looking at the titles and not at her vitals? I thought she might jump up from her seat and shout at the top of her voice. I had by then closed my eyes in anticipation of her Jesus fingers anointing my cheeks, but she was perhaps the forgiving kind! She shrugged her shoulders in contempt, stood up in a jiffy, and walked away to another empty seat towards the rear of the bus.

She was reading 'The Golden Gate' by Vikram Seth,... not 'The Men Who Stare at Goats'.

Goecha La Trek: Days 8 & 9 - To Darjeeling

2010-08-12T10:23:00.000-07:00

A bunch of guys who used to get up at 3 and 4 in the morning, without the help of any alarm clock for the last one week, slept late into the morning that day, till the sunlight literally crept in and warmed our asses. Though there was one more day left before we finally say goodbye to the mountains, the lack of excitement was visible on the faces. Given a chance we would all have loved to stay back for a few more days, but then life doesn't work that way always. So with much difficulty we all dragged our tired bodies outside, had breakfast and packed the bags. The taxis were waiting to carry us back to Darjeeling and without much delay we started our journey waving goodbyes to the beautiful people of Yuksom.

We reached Jorethang via Nayabazar, where we changed vehicles and finally checked into Hotel Mohit at Darjeeling by 12 noon. We had rest of the day to explore the town and without wasting any time we hit the Mall road. Some of us had Pork Thungpa at Devkar's while others were busy hogging apple pies at Glanarys. We all convened back at the hotel by 2 for a city tour. The first stops were the Peace Pagoda and the Japanese temple. Both the places were beautiful, but crowded with tourists, unlike the deserted terrains we witnessed the week before. We also visited the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute and the tomb of Tenzing Norge. The HMI museum had quite a few interesting exhibits - equipments used by the Everest conquerors, paper clippings explaining the triumphs and failures of many such expeditions and some awesome photographs of Everest, K2 and other peaks. The Darjeeling zoological park is also in the same compound where the main attractions were the Red Panda and the Snow Leopard.

After the city tour we again split up into small groups and roamed around the streets, tasting delicacies and buying souvenirs. I went to a pub called "The Buzz" with Ketan and Alfonso after seeing a poster about live music there. An acoustic trio was playing but we got to hear only the last part of their performance. The pub looked more like an English tavern with more foreigners than locals in there. We had a couple of beers and got back to the hotel in time for dinner. Tamal had arranged for a nice farewell dinner and after a couple of drinks everyone hit the dance floor. Dinner was served by 10 as an early morning journey to the airport was on cards for everyone, except Robert and myself. For the two of us one adventure had ended and the other was about to begin. We had plans to stay back for another week, exploring the North-East. There was no concrete plan or schedule in place, and that was the beauty of the second leg of our adventure!

I dreamed of Buddhist monasteries, snow clad peaks, mountain passes and beautiful ladies that night. It was time to say goodbyes by the time I got back from dreamland. After an early breakfast, warm hugs and well wishes the rest of the gang left to catch their flights, while myself and Robert retired to our rooms. So many things to do, so many places to visit, so much more to experience.. the excitement was creeping back into us. After a leisurely bath and some tea we too walked out into the streets of Darjeeling, trying to figure out where to start, what to do...

Fortunately we had no immediate time-lines to meet, no commitments to fulfill and lot of time to spend. We decided to take things as they come and started walking North... well, towards Glanarys, to have some apple pies for our second breakfast!

Click here for more..

Day 1: To Yuksom
Day 2: Yuksom to Tshoka
Day 3: Tshoka to Dzongri
Day 4: Dzongri to Lamuney
Day 5: To Samiti & Kockchurung
Days 6 & 7: Back to Tshoka & Yuksom
Days 8 & 9: To Darjeeling

Pictures from the trek here

Goecha La Trek: Days 6 & 7 - Back to Tshokha & Yuksom

2010-08-11T07:55:00.000-07:00

Morning was refreshing at Kockchurung. After breakfast we started the day's trek by 8 in the morning. The plan was to bypass Dzongri and reach Tshokha by evening. This takes a longer route which joins the Phedang-Dzongri trail. The rains had made this trail quite slippery and people kept falling down at regular intervals. The injured Russian lady was being carried down to Yuksom this very route on a stretcher by some porters. It sure was quite an ordeal for the poor lady as it rained most of the day. We stopped over at Phedang for lunch where we met another group from China who were on their way up. They were a bit apprehensive about the rest of the journey seeing the plight of the Russian.

We picked lot of wild strawberries on our way down and it was quite an enjoyable walk to Tshokha. Even the dogs were enjoying the trip back to base camp, by this time we had five of them with us - Wolfi, Zulu, Dusty, Almost Dusty & Philippe. Marco (short for Marcus Aurelius) had decided to stay back at Kockchurung and try his luck with the other groups. We reached Tshokha quite early in the evening which gave us ample time to roam around the village clicking some pictures. There was a small souvenir shop from where I picked up a bunch of prayer flags. We ordered for some Thongmba and celebrated our return in style. Post dinner, there was a special session with Krishna on stars and constellations. He had amazing knowledge not just in locating the stars and planets, but also explaining the mythology behind the constellations and their names. By the time we retired to our tents all of us had picked up few tips from him on star gazing.

We woke up to some spectacular light show the next day morning. Sun was dancing in and out of the clouds, creating some awesome patterns in the sky. Soon everything from the Yaks to the horses to the dogs became subjects to a dozen cameras. After lazing around the campsite for an hour or so we packed up one last time for the base camp - Yuksom. Weather was really pleasant the whole day and it did not rain till we reached Yuksom. After unloading our bags in the travelers hut we all went to town.. back to civilization after 7 days! There was a queue in front of the hair cutting saloon for some much needed cutting and shaving. We also visited the Kathok lake, another sacred lake in Yuksom. It has quite scenic surroundings with lush green grasslands and prayer flags all around it, not to mention the crystal clear waters. The belief is that leaves don't fall into the lake or rather the birds won't let them fall into the lake.

Yuksom is a small but beautiful village and few of us took a walk across the village to the market and back. Most of the houses are made of wood and are neatly lined up on either side of the road. The roads also look beautiful with the prayer flags on long masts planted all along. Cute looking kids were busy picking an orange berry called 'ilusun'. We tried Tibetan bread, fried potatoes and momos at a roadside restaurant. We had chicken for dinner that night, after which we once again convened around the table outside, for a few hours of singing and dancing. The celebrations went on for quite a while and sometime early the next morning I hit the sack!

Click here for more..

Day 1: To Yuksom
Day 2: Yuksom to Tshoka
Day 3: Tshoka to Dzongri
Day 4: Dzongri to Lamuney
Day 5: To Samiti & Kockchurung
Days 6 & 7: Back to Tshoka & Yuksom
Days 8 & 9: To Darjeeling

Pictures from the trek here

Goecha La Trek: Day 5 - To Samiti & Kokchurung

2010-08-11T05:31:00.000-07:00

That was by far the wildest night of my life. The temperature had fallen to minus ten degrees and the snowfall continued through the night. The fear that the tent might collapse on us kept us awake, tapping the roof every now and then not letting the soft snow accumulate on the top. Though it worked for a while, the snow started piling up on the sides and the metal poles holding the tent slowly started bending inwards. But it wasn't quite frightening as we slipped in and out of sleep, till we had a look at the situation the next morning. By 3 in the morning the snowfall stopped and we got out onto a carpet of soft snow. As the weather looked relatively good, we decided to walk up to Goecha La pass. The Russian contingent who were camping nearby were also getting ready for the early morning trek.

By four in the morning 9 of us started for Goecha La, while the rest of the gang decided to sleep for a while more. As we started the climb in the sub zero temperatures I could feel the cold and altitude finally getting on to me. The arrogance of wearing shorts in that climate was being dearly paid for. After a 45 minutes walk we reached the other side of the hill and got the first glimpse of Samiti Lake. There was an abandoned log cabin by the lake and the whole setting looked awesome in the morning light. By then it started snowing again, this time accompanied by strong winds. As the morning sun colored the skies a dull blue, myself and Gokul decided to spend some time around the lake clicking pictures. Once the sun is fully out, the reflection from the snow is so blinding that the pictures will all be washed out. Though the intention was to resume the climb a little later, we were so captivated by the beauty of the place and finally decided to abandon the climb, a decision which proved wise as the day progressed.

Samiti lake looked so serene and calm, bordered by snow clad peaks on all sides. Brightly colored birds flying around the shores, prayer flags fluttering in the wind, howling sound of the wind and the snowflakes together gave a special charm to the morning. We walked around the lake a few times and soon realized we were in fact walking over the frozen lake itself, carefully camouflaged under the soft snow. We soon moved towards the log cabin and started working on Snowie, the snowman. We used a biscuit packet for his nose, some branches and twigs for his arms and hair. By the time we were done with Snowie, the guys who had gone ahead also came back, the weather was so bad that they could not proceed much, though they got a nice glimpse of Kanchenjunga from another view point. We also learned that one of the ladies from the Russian contingent had severe bleeding and will have to be airlifted for urgent medical treatment. Inspite of some great protective gear (far superior to ours) and precautions, nature at times have the last laugh!

By the time we walked back to the camp site the guys were all up and running and were busy making their own snowman. Miles and miles of white snow was all that we could see from the hilltop, with the tents looking like stray droplets of color on an otherwise blank canvas. Some of the Yaks had ran away in the night and the porters had gone to fetch them. We had some nice hot breakfast and started packing the stuff for our return journey, playing with snow all the while. By 11 we started the day's trek and after lunch at Thangshing, we finally reached the cabin at Kokchurung by 4 in the evening. This stretch was mostly through flat terrain and intermittent rains made it all the more fun. We were planning to stay inside the cabin for the night, but as it was too crowded for the 25 of us, Alfonso, Robert and myself decided to pitch a tent by the riverside. We had a terrific view of mount Pandim from there and the gushing waters of Prek Chu made it even more an experience to camp outside than in the log cabin.

After setting up the tent few of us went exploring the area, the bridges, rhododendron forests and the crystal clear Prek Chu. Alfonso wanted to take a dip and it took just about 35 seconds for him to get out of his clothes, take a dip and get back inside them! Perched on the rocks outside the tent, with 'Almost Dusty' for company, I took out my harmonica and played a few tunes to my heart's content. The feeling you get as the sound waves reverberate through the valleys and the pine forests, is something my limited vocabulary is incapable of reproducing.

We had started our return journey, but it was far from over yet. After some hot rice and rice kheer we all went to sleep, happy and contented at a mission almost accomplished!

Click here for more..

Day 1: To Yuksom
Day 2: Yuksom to Tshoka
Day 3: Tshoka to Dzongri
Day 4: Dzongri to Lamuney
Day 5: To Samiti & Kockchurung
Days 6 & 7: Back to Tshoka & Yuksom
Days 8 & 9: To Darjeeling

Pictures from the trek here

Goecha La Trek: Day 4 - Dzongri to Lamuney

2010-08-08T19:55:00.000-07:00

'What time is it, is it 3 yet?', someone or other kept yelling every hour that night. Such was the excitement on the prospect of seeing mount Kanchenjunga up close and personal the next morning, in fact one of the major attractions of the trek. Dabla Khang, the view point near Dzongri is one of the best places to witness the majesty of Kanchenjunga and its brithers Kabru, Rathong, Simvo, Tensinghan and Pandim. This view point is atop a hillock some 2 kilometers from the cabin. Some of the gang decided to skip this four kilometer warm up session and decided to conserve energy for the day's long trek to Lamuney. The rest of us didn't want to miss the sunrise and started by 3 in the morning. It wasn't an easy climb in the starlight, and the Overnight dew and resultant frost had given a white coat to all the shrubs and grass, making the terrain all the more slippery. It was freezing cold too and we had a tough time climbing so early in the morning. Arghaya, our guide, had already downed a few glasses of Roxy and he was running up the hill, giggling like a small kid who is about to view something majestic. And majestic it was!

We reached the view point well ahead of the sunrise. There was another group of Australians, who were camping on the other side of this hillock, also joined us on top. There is a small Buddhist altar of worship where Arghaya offered some incense, as we all sang "Om Mani Padme Hum". Soon sunny boy came out of his slumber and the hue of the horizon slowly changed from gray to Red to orange and finally to a fine yellow. we all stood in awe as KJ and brothers put up a show amidst the golden rays of a rejuvenated sun. Our campsite was visible as a tiny spec of blue towards one side and the vast Lamuney valley towards the other side of the hillock. After a few photos with KJ and bros, we soon started our descent. We had a pretty long walk ahead of us for the day. Instead of camping either at Kokchrung or Thangshing, our plan was to walk all the way to Lamuney valley, and camp there overnight. To accomplish this we had to start as early as possible.

After giving the folks who stayed back in the cabin an exaggerated account of the Kanchenjunga darshan, we soon packed our stuff and started the day's trek. From Dzongri it is a steep climb initially, followed by some vast grasslands, at the end of which you get a magnificent view of Lamuney valley with Prek Chu flowing right through the middle. The snow clad mountains of Pandim stands guard on one side of the valley while another rocky cliff borders the other. The descent down to Kokchrung is quite steep and hard on the knees, though the rhododendrons in all different colors are everywhere along the path. By the time we reached the log hut at Kokchrung, we had also lost about 1200 feet in altitude. The thought of gaining this altitude back on our return trip was quite terrifying, but thankfully we had other plans. We had a short break at Kokchrung, from where we crossed the gushing Prek Chu river to the other side of the valley. Rest of the 3 kilometers walk to Thangshing was entirely through a pine forest where every piece of wood was covered by bright yellow moss. It was kind of spooky at some places, even at noon.

We stopped at Thangshing for lunch, where you have a nice grassland for camping and a dilapidated stone hut for some protection from the winds. Mount Pandim looms large on the other side of the hut and some prefer to camp here for the night. We decided to walk another 4 kilometers to Lamuney, and camp on this side of Samiti lake. It would have been better had we camped at Thangshing, from safety point of view. But then we would have definitely missed out the fun of huddling inside the tent in the night, as it snowed from 9PM to 2AM, hoping that the tent won't come down on us! We all reached Lamuney by 5 in the evening and started with the pakodas and horlicks. By the time we finished dinner it was getting real cold and in no time it started snowing. For most of us, this was the first encounter with soft snow, and the darkness or cold could not stop us from running around, clicking snaps and howling at the stop of our voices like a pack of wolves!

Our destination for the next day was Goecha La mountain pass, but the snowfall made us think twice about attempting the pass. It is always treacherous to climb to that heights when there is snowfall. Tracing your way back to the camp becomes a herculean task in the constant snowfall, even if you assume that you won't run into avalanches or slippery ice. The best time to reach Goecha La is before sunrise and this made it even more risky. We decided to postpone the decision till the next day morning at 3, after analyzing the situation. When we took our positions in the tents, we all had mixed feelings - the prospect of playing around in soft snow next morning and the possibility of canceling any further climb. Soon I slipped into sleep, listening to the sound of 'snowflakes falling on the tent'.

Click here for more..

Day 1: To Yuksom
Day 2: Yuksom to Tshoka
Day 3: Tshoka to Dzongri
Day 4: Dzongri to Lamuney
Day 5: To Samiti & Kockchurung
Days 6 & 7: Back to Tshoka & Yuksom
Days 8 & 9: To Darjeeling

Pictures from the trek here

Goecha La Trek: Day 3 - Tshoka to Dzongri

2010-08-03T23:27:00.000-07:00

The day starts quite early in the mountains. By 4 in the morning people will be up and on with the day's chores. I woke up to the sound of the Yak bells. The Yaks are let loose every evening for grazing and then rounded up the next morning. They rarely stray too far, generally stay together as a herd and the bells on their neck help to locate them. I was treated with an awesome view of the snow clad mount Pandim as I crept out of the tent. The sun was almost out and Tshoka looked beautiful in the morning light.

Tshoka is a small village with some 10 houses and a couple of wooden cabins for the trekkers. There is a small lake right in the middle of the village and a small Buddhist temple on a hillock. The whole arrangement of houses and the green pastures reminded me of the Shire from LOTR. After some hot coffee and a quick breakfast of Chole-Batura, we started the day's trek by 7. Our destination was a log cabin at Dzongri, at an altitude of 4,020 meters. Altitude had started taking its toll and a few in our group were having headaches and dizziness even after a good night's acclimatisation. We had to gain another 1,000 meters altitude to reach Dzongri and the rains in the night had made the pathways a lot slippery. At some places where it is steep and muddy, wooden logs were laden along the pathway and this made an otherwise strenuous climb a lot easy. It was around Tshoka that we saw the first Rhododendrons.

We were passing through Rhododendron territory and they were all around, in all colors ranging from the reds to the purples to the yellows to the whites. You find them in patches of a single color, painting an entire hillside or valley red or yellow. Almost midway to Dzongri, in the middle of red and yellow rhododendron forest is a meadow called Phedang. There is a small log cabin there as well and trekkers generally stop here for lunch. Soon we unpacked all the left over chole-bature from breakfast and sat down for some much needed rest and lunch. There was heavy mist all around and with the swift winds it was playing hide and seek on the landscape. It was wonderful to sit there amidst all the color and enjoy the lunch on a Tuesday afternoon. The dogs, Wolfi, Zulu and Dusty were running all around chasing pieces of cloud here and there, when they are not sharing lunch with one of us.

It was getting too misty to walk as we finished dinner, nevertheless we resumed our journey to Dzongri. Phedang to Dzongri is a wonderful climb through dense Rhododendron forests; there are more than 400 flowering species it seems! After a few hours of walk the vegetation gets thinner and you find only small bushes and shrubs. The sky was looking menacing already, with some heavy clouds and the guide warned us about possible hailstorms. As he rightly guesssed it came upon us in no time. It was fun initially to enjoy the pieces of ice that fall all over you. Though we ran around the place in the initial enthusiasm, hail storms can soon get frustrating, especially when you are a long way away from the destination. Thankfully this one was short and only lasted for some 15 minutes. We picked up pace as we had some flat land ahead of us and soon we could see the log cabin at Dzongri.

We were the last to reach Dzongri, taking all the time in the world to enjoy the beauty all around. Rest of the gang was huddled around hot pakodas and tea by the time we reached, and it is a great feeling to walk into such a reception from a hailstorm. Almost minutes after we started munching on the Onion and Potato pakodas another hailstorm and rain started. This one was heavy and we were happy to watch the spectacle from the security of the log cabin. After the storm the sun came out in all its glory and we were treated to some beautiful landscapes all around. Sinsinayya Subba and her family takes care of the log hut at Dzongri, who lives there 6 months a year, growing carrots, peas and tomatoes. She had some home made rice wine called Roxy, with her and few of us decided to taste it out. It tasted much like Vodka and was such a help in fighting the cold.

As night progressed it became extremely cold at Dzongri and we decided not to pitch tents and instead sleep inside the cabin. Space was never a constraint as 20 odd people squeezed themselves into the two small rooms! With the plan to start the next day's trek at 3 in the morning, we all slept early in the anticipation of seeing the 'five treasures of snow' the next morning. That is the meaning of the word 'Kangchenjunga', the third tallest mountain in the world.

Click here for more..

Day 1: To Yuksom
Day 2: Yuksom to Tshoka
Day 3: Tshoka to Dzongri
Day 4: Dzongri to Lamuney
Day 5: To Samiti & Kockchurung
Days 6 & 7: Back to Tshoka & Yuksom
Days 8 & 9: To Darjeeling

Pictures from the trek here

Goecha La Trek: Day 2 - Yuksom & Tshoka

2010-07-24T21:18:00.000-07:00

Yuksom, from where the trek started is about 140 kilometers from Siliguri. We started on the National Highway 31A by about 11 in the morning. Most of the roads this part of the world is made and maintained by BRO (Border Roads Organisation) and they are in superior condition inspite of the heavy rains, snow and landslides. The route from Siliguri to Jorethang is quite picturesque and offers some beautiful views of river Teesta. We crossed over to Sikkim before afternoon and stopped at Jorethang for lunch. People are very musically inclined in this part of the world and the guy at the restaurant played some Dire Straits and Don Williams as we enjoyed the rice and beer. After lunch we continued our journey and reached Yuksom via Tashiding by 5 in the evening.

Yuksom was the first capital of Sikkim and is a beautiful and quiet village at an altitude of 1,750 meters. By 6 in the evening it was all misty and dark, giving us a taste of whats to come in the coming days. It was drizzling and we soon settled down into the travel lodge and regrouped after an hour or so for some hot coffee. We met Gajendra & Pradyumn, the two cooks who were to accompany us. We also got introduced to Wolfi, Zulu and Dusty, three of the six dogs who traveled with us all the way and back. There are two monastries in Yuksom - Dubdi & Mallu and we decided to take a walk to Mallu monastery in the dark. This turned out to be an adventure in itself as Zulu picked up a fight with one of the dogs at the monastery, exactly when we were taking a group photo in front of the temple. After pacifying Zulu with much difficulty, we walked back to the lodge where some hot food and Thongba was waiting for us.

Thongmba is a local wine made of millet seeds, which tastes much like Saki. The fermented seeds is served in hollow bamboo and hot water is added and stirred to make Thongmba, which you drink using bamboo straws. It gives a mild and slow kick and soon people started singing and dancing. It almost turned into a singing competition and Rinkesh, Pavan, Mahendra & Prasad all sang their hearts out. Alfonso & Marie also pitched in with some Mexican & French songs. Alfonso even decided to open a Thongmba shop once he get back to Chennai - Adayar Thongmba & Sweets! The revelry ended only when Tamal reminded us of the task ahead the next day - we had to walk almost 18 kilometers, gaining an altitude of 1,250 meters. All of us soon retired to our rooms for some much needed sleep. Kannan, Alfonso, Rinkesh & myself spent another hour or so talking about previous trekking experiences and life in general.

We woke up to some good rain in the morning and it was a depressing sight indeed. Soon we arranged for long plastic sheets to be used as ponchos, but by the time we finished breakfast the sun god was out, smiling in all his glory. Thankfully weather remained more or less pleasant during the next few days. The group had grown to about 40 by that time - 25 of us, 13 yaks, 3 horses and 3 dogs. The Yaks and horses carried the tents and food while we all carried our own backpacks and sleeping bags. The route to Tshoka is a pleasant walk through the Pine and Oak forests initially, with the stream Prek-Chu visible down in the valley. Soon we started the descend towards the stream and crossed it at multiple places via hanging bridges. After the fifth bridge, we stopped for lunch and then came the most difficult stretch - a 70 degree climb to the other side of the hill. En route is a small village called Bakhim where we met Eddie. He grows marijuana in front of his house and keeps chilled beer in his house just in case any of the trekkers need a morale boost. Mind you, the marijuana is for the Yaks, they are fed grass in case of stomach upsets! Eddie is the lone resident of Bakhim. After having a friendly chat with an already sloshed Eddie, we continued the climb along wild strawberry patches and finally reached Tshoka by 5 in the evening.

It was already getting dark and cold. The tents were pitched in no time and dinner was served quite early - rotis, rice and potato curry. We had walked more than 15 kilometers and gained about 1200 meters in altitude. To give our bodies some much needed rest we all retired to our tents quite early. There was a slight drizzle outside and with the thermals, gloves, jacket and the sleeping bag, I was feeling cold. But in no time I slipped into sleep and to some beautiful dreams!

Click here for more..

Day 1: To Yuksom
Day 2: Yuksom to Tshoka
Day 3: Tshoka to Dzongri
Day 4: Dzongri to Lamuney
Day 5: To Samiti & Kockchurung
Days 6 & 7: Back to Tshoka & Yuksom
Days 8 & 9: To Darjeeling

Pictures from the trek here

Goecha La Trek: Day 1 - To Yuksom

2010-07-24T21:03:00.000-07:00

Looks can't kill. I am sure about that now. Else I would have been busy pushing daisies up by now, after being murdered a few times over by the exquisite beauty of Himalayan peaks & the women folk of North-East India. Yes, I came back alive in one piece, after a two weeks 'affair' with the mountains. It all started when one Saturday afternoon, under the influence of alcohol perhaps, I signed up for email updates from Chennai Trekking Club. Among the many mails I got was this one from Tamal, on a trek in Sikkim. Having experienced the beauty of the Himalayas once before, I was always willing to go back. So I responded to the mail, Rob also agreed to join, and in no time the plan was made for the first week of May. Rob and myself had plans to extend the trip by another week making this a 16 days adventure.

Few preparatory treks were organized for the group to gauge and enhance the physical fitness. Daily exercise was also prescribed which I tried to follow religiously.. well almost. As the April 30th date came closer, the excitement was uncontrollable. Rob came a day before and we did all the shopping the evening before.Tamal had sent out a list of 27 items to carry during the trek - from thermal wear to sun screen, and insisted that the backpack shouldn't weigh more than 5 kilos. The idea was that, with the sleeping bag and mat, everyone got no more than 7 kgs to carry. I couldn't figure out how to find 18 pieces of clothing which weigh less than 200 grams a piece on average. So I decided to take everything one less than the prescribed numbers. Though it sounded like a clever idea at first, I realized the stupidity once I had to walk through snow in my shorts. Everyone was supposed to carry one trouser and they did. Me, smart-ass, followed the formula and carried one less than the prescribed number!

The Bangalore gang met outside the airport by 8:30 that Friday morning. We were six of us - Joydeep, Muthu, Kannan, Purna, Rob and myself. After a quick breakfast of Subway rolls and masala dosa we boarded our spicejet flight to Calcutta. I have never heard from anyone of an 'interesting' flight, and this one was no different. The air hostess even asked Kannan to switch off his iPod; too loud for the pilot to hear the communication from the ATC tower it seems.. morons! After a hop over at Hyderabad we reached Calcutta by 2:30 in the afternoon. Probably due to the iPod episode, we were delayed by half an hour [:)] and the Chennai team was waiting for us in the airport. They were 16 strong - Tamal, Marie, Prathaap, Alfonso, Raj, Bindu, Mahendra, Ketan, Prasad, Sowmy, Krishna, Rinkesh, Prem, Pavan, Shiva and Gokul. Any adventure becomes a memorable event or an ordeal depending on the character of the group, and honestly I have never traveled with a better group. We all got introduced to each other quickly, picked up our respective sleeping bags/mats and got into the taxis for our Calcutta city tour.

The drive from the airport to Haldiram's gave us a glimpse of the transforming city. Calcutta always fascinated me with the coexistence of militant communism and fast track development. Its probably just my 'kin preference' kicking in.. after all Mallus and Bongs are estranged sons of the same skewed ideology. The city still holds on to the iconic tram system, cycle rickshaws and Victorian buildings, but the skyline is slowly getting used to the high rises. Haldiram's was an awesome experience.. we filled half our stomach by just ogling at the delicacies on display. It was even suggested that we should plan a 4 days trek to Haldiram's, one day to each corner of the shop! The thought that we might be starving the next few days also helped in pushing an extra Rasagula or Kachori down the throat. With tears in our eyes (not the chillies, mind you) we all said goodbye to Haldirams and reached Babughat by the banks of Hubli, for a ferry ride to Howra. The hanging bridge looked fabulous in the twilight and Marie could not help breaking into a Salsa on board the ferry.

After getting off the ferry, the primary concern was food, especially as we had to get to Sealdah railway station by 10PM to catch our overnight train to New Jalpaiguri (NJP). After hanging around 'Moulin Rouge' and 'Barb-e-Q' with dreamy eyes for a while, we finally moved into 'Bhaduni', a restaurant serving Bengali food at Park Street. We had a few variants of fish fry and curry with rice and it was awesome. We reached the station just in time to catch the Darjeeling mail. Sealdah is one of the major railway stations in Calcutta and is close to Babughat. The huge hoarding of Allahabad bank kept above the station building gave us the impression that this might be the corporate office of Allahabad bank and not a train station. We got into two compartments and soon realized that we had booked only 20 seats for the 22 of us. Tamal had a 'talk' with the ticket examiner and after flashing some money did manage to get permission for the other two to sleep somewhere in the compartment.

The train was on time and we reached NJP station early the next morning. The taxis were waiting and after a short ride we reached Siliguri, which is about 8 kilometers from NJP. We checked into Hotel Manila for breakfast. We had a five hours ride to Yuksom ahead of us, from where the actual trek starts. Prasad and myself managed to get a short tour of the city in a cycle rickshaw, while Tamal was away with Marie & Alfonso to get the necessary permits. Strange as it sounds, foreigners need an Inner Line permit to visit Sikkim. As soon as we landed in NJP, Marie & I met a priest from the temple of God Saturn, who insisted that we should tie a thread on our hands to ensure protection during the journey. Both of us did tie this red thread and according to Marie it worked miracles in getting her the Inner Line permit in a jiffy. Saturn rules!

Click here for more..

Day 1: To Yuksom
Day 2: Yuksom to Tshoka
Day 3: Tshoka to Dzongri
Day 4: Dzongri to Lamuney
Day 5: To Samiti & Kockchurung
Days 6 & 7: Back to Tshoka & Yuksom
Days 8 & 9: To Darjeeling

Pictures from the trek here

Conversations with Pluto - Predicting future

2010-07-16T03:07:00.000-07:00

I lost a thousand Rupees and two fish during the world cup football; courtesy betting. The money, I lost to the boy from the neighborhood shop for betting on Brazil to lift the cup this time. I always rooted for Brazil when it comes to Football, irrespective of the odds, and this bet was more an emotional act. The fish I lost to Pluto, my neighbor's cat the day Brazil lost to Netherlands. This bet was but based on a rational analysis, considering the performance of the two teams till then. You can argue it was a stupid decision, how the hell did I expect a cat getting me two fishes in case he lost? But the fact is he didn't. Just like Serbia's win over Germany, he accurately predicted Brazil's loss in that unfortunate quarter final match.

So Paul and Mani are not the only soothsayers in town. Pluto the cat had also predicted all the results quite accurately. He refused to bet against me when I said in-form Argentina will not reach the semi-finals. I was skeptical about breaking this news till now, worried about the ridicule. Talking about a cat's uncanny ability to foresee future is one thing, while a talking cat is quite another! But when Paul became an instant internet celebrity, I thought I should tell the world about Pluto as well. So I sat down to write the story. But as if anticipating this, Pluto came into the room and jumped on to the table.

'So you want to know how I did it', he asked me.

I never expected him to share his secret with me. So with much excitement I said 'Of course!'

'I didn't do it', he said without blinking an eye.

I was angry that he spoiled my story about the great soothsayer in my own house. 'what do you mean', I asked.

'The roaches did it', he said.

'what roaches?'

'Ok, let me ask you this.. where do you keep the old newspapers?', he quizzed me as if I don't know my own backyard.

'On the platform by the sink in the kitchen', I replied.

'Under the exhaust pipe, correct?' he added.

'yes, so what?', I didn't understand the plot.

He put on that all-knowing smile and said 'you know who lives up the exhaust pipe?'

'Yes I do, the filthy cockroaches'.

'And have you seen them shit? defaecate, I mean', he winked at me.

'Come on man, whats the point? Why will I see the roaches defaecate?', I was losing patience.

'That is your problem.. you never see the things that are right in front of you and search for answers in the far far world. The roaches don't defaecate just anywhere.. there is a method in the way they do it'

I felt like punching him on the face for the lecture. 'So if you draw a straight line through the shit particles, you get an Octahedron with the diagonal and side lengths in Golden ratio? Are you suggesting something like this?'

'Looks like you read too much into Davinci Code. The issue here is much simple. The roaches been consistently shitting on the losing team's picture, name or flag on the newspaper. I simply noticed this and you didn't', Pluto said triumphantly, licking the last morsels of fish off his paws.

'You must be kidding. How can those dumb roaches predict the future? You are making this all up', I could not agree to what he said.

'Ever heard of wisdom of the crowds, you dumbo?' he asked amusingly.

'No, I have heard of madness of the crowds'

'There you go again. Wisdom of the crowds is a postulate which says that the intelligence of the crowd will always be greater than that of the most intelligent guy in the group, or at times even greater than the sum of the parts', he explained with an air of authority.

'Who says so?', I wasn't ready to accept defeat lying down.

'Heard of the Iowa Electronic Markets, IEM, which has been consistently predicting the election results more accurate than the Gallop poll, for the last 20 years?'

I had no choice but to accept my ignorance.

'Well, this is a project of the College of Business in the University of Iowa, where a few thousand people are collectively allowed to predict the outcomes of elections, indirectly based on future contracts they buy/sell in the exchange. They have been doing this better than all the national polls for so many years now'. Pluto never wastes a chance to show off.

'OK', I said, not knowing what else to say.

'So your roaches have a better probability of getting the predictions right compared to Mani or Paul, as they use collective intelligence', he concluded.

'mmmm.. take it that I buy your bull, but how do these animals know the future?', I asked.

He stared at me for a moment and said 'as they say in the movies, you are given information on a need to know basis and you don't need to know that'.

'Oh', said I, rushing to the kitchen to see who the roaches are shitting on lately. Who knows, I might make a fortune with these roaches in the future!

Conversations with Pluto - Free Will

2010-06-27T23:16:00.000-07:00

Pluto is my neighbor's cat. Though he categorically belongs to my neighbor, he spends most of his time at my place, like many of us spend the entire day at office. He sleeps on an extra mattress in the room, topples the dustbin and eat all that's inside and torture the unfortunate cockroaches who come out for a walk in the sun. Generally he keeps quiet as he goes on with the above mentioned acts, but there are times when he decide to have a conversation. I get worried whenever he puts on that serious face, scratch his head, jump on to the table and take seat atop the pile of books. This is his favorite attacking position, having gained the 'higher-ground' advantage over me slouching on the bean bag.

So after watching 'Bedazzled' for the Nth time, when he quickly jumped on the table I knew he is on to something. I had noticed him scratching his ears vigorously during that scene where Lucifer plays dice with God on the sidewalk. So I picked up a cup of coffee and sat down, ready to face the assault. Finally after a long wait the Oracle spoke..

"How did you, me and the circus came about?", Pluto asked. 'Circus' is how he generally refers to the 'rest of the world', where according to him, his master is one of the Head-Clowns.

I gasped at the profoundness of the question and answered, "Many say that a God created all this out of love. Some say it happened when electric charge acted upon a primordial soup of atoms. There are a few who think aliens did it. And then there are the real intellectuals who say all this is a simulation"

Giving me one of those you-are-hopeless looks he said, "Ok, for the time being let us assume that God did it. Can we?"

"But how can you base a discussion on an assumption? We shouldn't have ambiguity in rational dialogs", I tried to act intelligent and interested.

"If you use the assumption only as a premise and later prove it a fact by virtue of the outcome, for which the assumption was not directly utilized, then there is no problem", he said effortlessly like a primary school kid reciting Jack & Jill, as I desperately tried to wrap my head around the statement.

Sensing the confusion he soon added "Anyway, it doesn't matter in our case as we are not trying to prove anything", nudging me back on track.

As I nodded my head in the affirmative he continued, "So if indeed God created us, then why are our actions at times judged as evil? How can his creations be or do evil?"

"Heard of 'Free Will' moron?", I tried to be my assertive best.

"Ok Theophiles, what IS Free Will?", he retorted, with a twinkle in the eyes. I noticed it was the same delight with which he corners cockroaches in the room, before pouncing on them.

"HE did not want us to act like zombies or just enact a script, and hence gave us the free will to 'choose'. So while he fixed the start and end points for our journey, birth & death, he lets us decide the path we take from A to B. Our destiny is a function of the choices we make and destiny of the world is crowd-sourced from people like us, much like a web 2.0 content aggregator. And since we make our own decisions, we are judged on our actions", I concluded.

"Amen", said Pluto. "So HE shifted the responsibility of decision making to us, so that he can sit and judge us for everything we do. Is this what you are implying?"

"No, No.. he just wanted to give us more freedom to shape our lives the way we want. Its like writing the preface and introduction of a book and letting you write the rest of the chapters", I was beaming with pride on my excellent choice of example to make the point.

"mmmm.. impressive. So, let me ask you this. What would we have done if there was no free will?", he asked scratching his balls. (Cats can do it no matter where, and no one frets about it!)

"We would have followed HIS will I guess", I replied.

Without blinking an eye he asked again, "And do you think HIS will means no evil and only good?"

"Of course, that is why we do not call him Idi Amin"

"OK, so without free will we all would have done just good and the introduction of the so called free will now lets us do bad things as well? All that HE really gave us through free will is the knowledge of evil and the temptation to falter? What kind of a 'free' will is that mate?"

"Without both good and evil, how can you implement free will?" I tried to reason with Pluto.

"Choice need not always be about right and wrong, it can as well happen between multiple good options; like you choose the color of some shirt you buy. HE never thought of that possibility?" he asked as the wicked smile returned to his face.

I was quiet.

"Checkmate", said Pluto, as he jumped off the table after another roach.

Careful what you wish for..

2010-06-14T20:45:00.000-07:00

Last night I told a stranger all about you...
He smiled patiently with disbelief
- Morphine : 'In spite of me'

I never thought of writing this story in the first person. I would rather have preferred to hide behind a character and let everyone laugh at the hapless protagonist. But then I thought 'what the heck, I am gonna write it anyway'.

So, is this such a bad story to tell? How do you decide whether something is good or bad? Do you look at its status as on today, and see how the scales are tipped? Or do you take a weighted average of all the ups and downs, all the twists and turns that brought it to this point, and then decide? You can argue both ways... for each his own. After all good and bad are different shadows of the same reality, created by perception and purpose.

I saw this new butterfly in town, as I walked into office that day. She was a chubby, beautiful girl, wearing a sleeveless green salwar kameez, with brown eyes hiding behind thick rimmed glasses, and a generous coat of red lipstick on her full lips. What really captured my attention that day was not her beauty, but her laugh, which started like the engine of a rickshaw, blossoming into something like a lightning. That was it for the first meeting, as she was just a new face who worked with another team on the floor. Months later she told me she too had noticed this arrogant chap who sat there with a 'don't care the world' attitude written all over his face. As I walk to the pantry to pick up coffee every few hours, I used to give a side-wise glance at this new beauty on the floor, nevertheless maintaining the 'don't care' attitude. Frankly, I never cared for any woman in office those days, as music, travel, books and alcohol fascinated me more than anything in the whole wide world then. Looking back, I probably would have never written this, if I had stood ground and not switched tracks, enchanted by the greenery on the other side of the fence!

Women are these amazing creations who are the biggest catalysts of change in a man’s life. Every man is helplessly hooked to the spell of one or another woman all through his life – be it mother, girlfriend, wife, mistress or daughter. One of the stories that always fascinated me as a kid, was that of Helen of Troy, whose beauty could summon a thousand ships and assemble the greatest Greek army the world has ever seen. Stories like these start looking silly, once you let the biggest enigma of all time get a grip on your life.

Days passed and both of us worked hard for the company that paid our salaries, ignorant of each others' existence. But life had other plans. My manager was an expert in spotting talent and accumulating all of it in his own team. So he made sure in due course of time, that all good looking women in the company reported to him. Eventually one day she too joined my team and was allotted the seat next to mine - one of the perks you get for being in the good books of your manager, how much ever an asshole he is. So that’s how 'our story' kind of started! Being in the same team, we started with the Hi, Hello pleasantries and graduated into conversations on more interesting topics over a period of time. I liked this new girl, not sure what exactly made me reach such a decision.

I wrote in my diary one of those days - 'Am I in love? I am not sure because I have never been in love before. But there is definitely something strange going on out there. Be careful what you wish for, you might actually get it and regret it for the rest of your life.'

I used to work in the night shift and had developed the habit of having a tea and a long walk in the middle of the night. One fine day, she offered to accompany me on my midnight outing. So we walked out of the office and had tea by the makeshift tea shop outside the campus. Luke, the dog who used to meet me every day on these outings for a share of my tea, liked her instantly and extended the same reverence and respect to her as well. Luke and I had become close friends over time. He used to accompany me on my walks and see me off at the elevator. Once Luke also approved her, I had no doubt that she is indeed someone special.

'We became fast friends', if I want to concise all that happened over the next few months into a single phrase. We also changed our views on each other. My image of her as another girl who cared more about her looks than anything else, was replaced by the picture of an intelligent girl who was in charge of her own life. Her idea of me as an egoistic bloke-head also mellowed down to something like a harmless, average guy. Though both of us did not immediately acknowledge the change in perceptions, the interactions had grown to a level where we trusted each other.

Then came Friendship day, and I had nothing spectacular to do. So I messaged her asking whether she would care to join me for a Friendship day outing. I was surprised in fact when she replied saying she will meet me at 3 in the evening. For the first time in my life I set out to have an outing with a girl, all alone. We never talked about life or love or friendship that day, instead we were just a couple of kids who were let loose from the confines of their homes for a few hours of fun, away from the watchful eyes of the elders. Needless to say, I had one of the most memorable days of my life.

I was totally in love with her by then. Just that, I never dared to let her know my feelings. I did not want- as the song goes- 'spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you’. She enjoyed and shared most of my craziness, though she maintained a healthy level of sanity at all times, keeping her dreams closer to reality. While I had uncontrolled fantasy flights in my dreams, she mostly remained grounded, matured by the harshness and practicality of life. She was always more level headed than people of her age and was uncommonly endowed with commonsense. I still remember how she freaked out when I scooped up a bunch of tiny frogs in my hand, during one of our walks. It was her controlled freakishness and eccentricity that probably attracted me to her, a rare thing I found among members of the opposite gender; at least the ones I had the misfortune to interact with before.

So finally one day, I amassed the guts to ask her out over the weekend. Rejection was too much for my egoistic mind to handle, and I did think it over many a times, before explaining to her how much I would love to watch a movie with her. She was cool with it and we agreed to spend a day together. After the movie I walked with her along the lake, to the eatery nearby. We sat there for hours and talked about all things under the sun. I always used to wonder what is there to talk so much, when I see all the love-birds in the park or a restaurant. But it was no more a mystery as I sat across the table with the most beautiful woman in my life.

And beautiful she was! I almost thought that Guns 'n' Roses wrote ‘Sweet Child of mine’ keeping her in mind.

‘She’s got a smile that seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories, when everything was as fresh as the clear blue sky. Now and then when I see her face, it takes me away to that special place, and if I stare too long I’d probably break down and cry ...
She’s got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain. I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain. Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place, where as a child I’d hide, and pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by.’

Being in love is not just pain, it is an ordeal. It suddenly brings to life a bunch of emotions and sensations which you otherwise never acknowledged or never knew existed within. Two of the most prominent feelings in my case were possessiveness and jealousy. Not that I wasn’t jealous or possessive about things before, but it was the intensity and individual focus that was different this time. When I used to miss her even when she was walking beside me, you can imagine how I felt whenever I saw someone else spending time with her. All those people around me, even my friends, suddenly started looking like competitors or unwanted elements or complete nuisance. She being an innocent, straight forward person, believed in keeping in touch with everyone and never hesitated in sharing a good laugh. My sense of possessiveness at times used to take the steering wheel, driving me mad and there were moments when the thought crossed my mind that I am nothing more than just another good friend for her.

July 4th. It was a Saturday and the morning sun gave me no clue of the things that were supposed to happen later that day. Then I got a message from her.

It said “Don’t be so good, people are blindly falling in love with you”.

It took a while for the feeling to sink into my consciousness, beyond layers of reasoning. And when it did, I was aghast. I decided to play around a little and asked her who these ‘people’ are.

Zoom came the reply, “Don’t act smart now as if you don’t know them.. you know her very well”.

I decided to play the guessing game a little longer and she asked me to ‘use my little brain and big heart’ to identify the person. I asked her whether she is talking about herself, and she replied ‘Relax, just wanted to tell that you are a very good person and everyone loves you for that’.

I commented on her bad taste and I got the reply I always wanted to hear.

It said “It is not bad taste. You don’t know anything about it... it just happens and we don’t even know whether it is good or bad”.

We long for things to happen in life and when they really happen, we feel ‘so-so’ about it; this is what I have heard generally from people. But ‘excitement’ is too incomplete a word to describe what I felt after this conversation. The first time a girl proclaims her love towards you is indeed a special moment in the life of every man. So much that has been written about ‘first love’ was done for a reason. I was feeling like a teenager let loose into an adult video store with an all access pass! It was one moment when I could confidently sing the good old 'Albert Hammond song..

If I could make a wish, I think I'd pass
Can't think of anything I need...
All I need is the air that I breathe and to love you..

Fast forward a few years, one Thursday morning she called to tell that she is getting married. As she took those seven steps into somebody else's life, I was literally on cloud number nine... 14,000 feet above sea level in the Gharwal ranges of the Himalayas. The irony of being at the most beautiful place on the worst day of your life!

And we danced all night !

2010-06-09T00:48:00.000-07:00

If I were in ancient Greece, I would have bought a cow today, and offered it to the mighty Hermes, the guardian of travelers. Looks like I am in his bad books, as for some time now, luck's been playing a villain in my lone journeys. When I travel in a group the good fortunes of the others seem to have a dominating effect over my misfortunes. But every time I travel alone, I end up having these funny encounters fit enough to share with friends as Irish Jokes. The episodes with the Dragon lady and this twenty-something-cute girl are good examples. My last weekend's trip to my home town in Kerala, wasn't any different.

She was sitting on my seat when I boarded the bus at Bangalore. I asked her the seat number and she said she's been allocated the corner seat in the last row with a bunch of guys. Then with this unmistakable 'damsel in distress' look on her face she said, "I am a girl.. have to sit all alone with these guys in the back... would you mind exchanging the seats?". She had a husky voice... too masculine for the beauty that she was. Anyway, being the embodiment of chivalry itself, like a knight in shining armor who just returned from dragon hunting, I replied "Ya, I can do that". Some girls have this uncanny ability to make guys do things they never want to, with their sheer presence. So I moved to the corner seat and soon engaged in the 'squeeze your legs under the seat' game, one leg at a time. Little did I know then that I will end up doing Salsa all night. But signs of the night's entertainment started manifesting in no time.

As we were climbing this fly-over a few kilometers from the city, the bus suddenly stopped. The driver rushed out, and after fiddling a while with the engine declared -to everyone's delight- that the bus cannot move any further. So we had to wait for the next 2 hours for the replacement bus to arrive. The only building nearby was a petrol bunk and hence we all stood outside on the road, killing mosquitoes. I got about seven of those blood suckers. The new bus had a lot more leg room for the back seat and I was about to feel happy, when the driver announced that we will not stop for dinner to make up the lost time. As there were a few passengers who had to reach their destinations early morning, we all agreed to travel hungry.

Just when everyone thought the ordeal is finally over, they put on a movie. I don't know, in a single life, how many times do we have to watch this honest, angry police officer beating up a bunch of villains to porridge! Come on, give him a break.. there are a lot of other people in this world who are jobless and haven't been used so far to beat up goons - Catholic bishops, Communist party leaders and Swami Nithyananda for example. But who am I to poke my nose into somebody's creative freedom! So it was a welcome change when it started raining. It was nice watching the torrential rain through the windows.. the experience was so real that I almost felt like being out there in the rain. I could feel the raindrops falling on me. Soon I realized they were indeed falling on me!

The new bus had a few cracks on its AC duct, through which water was seeping in. Soon rivulets started taking shape, bringing water to the dry terrains of my head, lap and shoulder! With two hands and three waterfalls to take care of, I soon started wriggling like a dog hit by a stone. The entire back row passengers were fighting similar waterfalls, and together we looked like some dance troupe practicing synchronized Salsa. The show continued till about 3 in the morning and we had practiced quite a few moves to perfection by then - the praise-the-lord stance, the traffic-police pose and the like. By then my heart was overflowing with gratitude towards this girl who was snoring peacefully in the front seat.

I reached home, and the next day morning when I woke up I heard her voice again. Initially I thought it was another nightmare, but then it wasn't... the sound was coming from outside the house, and it was unmistakable. I looked through the window and saw Bruno, the dog, walking restlessly on the lawn. Then suddenly I realized that she had this throaty, deep voice.... like the sound a dog makes just before it throws up!

The Flying Monster controversy..

2010-06-03T05:25:00.000-07:00

I am being prayed for... Hallelujah!

No, I am not talking about my mom praying for an 'early' marriage of her son. Neither am I am talking about being included in the phrase 'pray for us sinners' by the multitude of believers. I am talking about a good friend of mine, who recently decided that I have traveled far and long in the path of damnation and hence has agreed to pray my way back to paradise. Soon the interstellar space is going to be polluted with another set of 'Hail Marys' and 'Our father in Hawaii' ...all in my name!

Now, how did all this happen? What provoked an otherwise passive and tolerant young man to swing into action and declare war on the dark forces of the world? That is quite a story.It was from a common friend that he got wind of my association with the 'Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster'. The fact that I had a picture of his holiness the FSM as the desktop background in my laptop, irked him more. For the followers of FSM, the Pastafarians, the fish bone is a symbol of his omnipresence, as much as it is a pun on another religion. But for my friend, this was outright blasphemy. While searching the web for more information on this new found fancy of mine, he chanced upon an image of the last supper where the FSM adorns the center spot, which is traditionally reserved for another bearded deity (don't want to offend him more by calling names, but definitely not Karl Marx). For a staunch follower of this bearded deity, this was the last nail on the coffin.

I tried putting on my passifier costume and put out the fire in him. He was not ready to buy my argument that this is a pseudo religion created to show people the hollow claims of other so called 'established' religions. The creation of a god out of two meatballs and spaghetti was nothing funny according to him, but some vicious agenda of Satan himself. The smooth and saucy noodly appendages of his noodlyness, which created this very universe some 300 years ago, were misconstrued for weapons of mass destruction. My attempts to explain the creation vs. evolution argument, which brought his noodlyness into the mainstream (though HE existed before the beginning of all times) only ended in threats of 'body damage' if I continue with my evangelical efforts. There is an alternate, less plausible school of thought as well, that his reactions are outcome of pure jealousy, on finding out that our god has larger balls than his!

I have been accused on multiple counts of blasphemy, irreverence and dissent by correlating with my following actions:

- Wearing only black shirts/T-shirts with satanic images (Read 'Iron Maiden, Slayer')
- Spreading blasphemous info among friends (Read 'an occasional email on the Secret diary of Jesus or so')
- Utter disrespect towards the first commandment "You shall have no other gods but me".(his noodlyness)
- Staying bachelor on the wrong side of thirty (so as to conduct my satanic business without disturbance.)
- Listening to satanic music (Read 'Enigma, Judas Priest')

Surprisingly, his correlations actually sounded like one of the propositions of his noodlyness - "there is a statistically significant inverse relationship between pirates and global temperature". In fact, such profound assessments are only possible from someone who has already been touched by the all-healing noodly arms of his noodlyness!

The good side of the prayers is that irrespective of the fact that I am saved or not, he will definitely be added into one Mr. Peter's good books, for trying to save an estranged sheep. Who knows, even his eternal accommodation in paradise might get upgraded from 'cattle class' to the Papal suite or something.

Probably these are the days his noodlyness warned about, through his prophets, the 'Guns n Roses'.

"It's hard to keep an open heart, When even friends seem out to harm you
But if you could heal a broken heart, Wouldn't time be out to charm you....
So never mind the darkness, we still can find a way
'Cause nothin' lasts forever, even cold November rain"

I have to be strong.. and I will.
rAmen!

Travel Tales..

2010-05-30T19:05:00.000-07:00

I am generally 'confusious'. The travel photo contest from supported by only added to my confusion. What kind of photos should one choose for a travel photo contest? My 'confusionism' gave birth to two schools of thought. Should I use good pictures clicked during a trip, which says nothing about the location? OR should I use an almost subject-less, bland picture of a mountain or a river or a beach? But as his holiness swami Nithyananda supposedly said, 'Why starve when you can have the cake and eat it too'? So I decided to pick pictures which qualify under both the schools, those with some character, at least compared to the rest of the lot. Here they are..

New Age Krishnas

At 1,930 meters, Mullayanagiri is the highest peak between the Himalayas and the Nilgiris. One foggy afternoon in 2008, we reached there and found a herd of cattle grazing on the top. We always use the phrase 'like a herd of cattle', to describe an unruly crowd which behaves without discipline. But this was one exceptional herd we found there, all of them facing North and eating quietly like a bunch of school kids in the hostel cafeteria. The lush green carpet of grass, the refrshing cool mist and the gentle wind had a magical effect on us and the three of my friends - Latheesh, Bijesh & Cyril - posed for this picture. More on the trek here.

Snowie 's Home

No man will find his peace until,

He builds a home That lies somewhere
beyond the hill

Snowie took it to his heart when Matt Monroe sang this song. Meet Snowie the snowman. That is his house behind him at Samiti Lake (4,200m) in West Sikkim. We were on a trek to Goecha La Pass and reached Samiti lake by 4 in the morning. The snow clad mountains and the cabin by the lake looked so beautiful that we decided to bring Snowie back to life. After an hour's effort there stood Snowie admiring the landscape, with a smile on his face! He knew he has to melt away as the sun comes up in the sky, but the thought didn't dampen his enthusiasm even a bit.

Harmony

This was a nostalgic moment for me, seeing the kids standing in line by the eastern entrance tower of Vithala temple in Hampi. Reminded me of the excursions from school, when we were a bunch of innocent, carefree kids. While the regular crowd walked around the temple showcasing the irresponsible behavior so typical of the grown ups, this group of school kids marched in like a battalion of soldiers, listening eagerly to the guide, and jotting down notes. With their brown shorts and skirts, they blended quite well into the landscape of ruins. I thought this would be far better a click while everyone ran around the stone chariot and musical pillars. Hampi is in North karnataka and was the former capital of the Vijayanagara Empire. More on our adventures in the Monkey Kingdom.

The last Indian village

At an altitude of 3,420 meters on the confluence of the Saraswati and the Alaknanda streams is Mana, the last border village of India in Uttaranchal. Legend says that, Maharishi Vyasa and Lord Ganesh lived in a cave located here, for writing the epic Mahabaratha. The trek to Vasudhara falls, which is on the 'Swargarohan Route' of the Pandavas starts from Mana. After the Valley of Flowers, Hemkund glacier lake and Auli, the falls was our next destination. Mana is about 3 kilometers from Badrinath, and we decided to walk down to this beautiful village of the Bhutias. This picture was an attempt to capture the view we were rewarded with en-route. Being a border village, the military presence here is considerable. The ITBP barracks by the potato fields looked beautiful against the backdrop of the Gharwal range of the Himalayas. More on the Valley of Flowers trek.

Moonstruck

It is not just the love of Coorgi pork that made me travel to Thadiyandamol a fifth time. Thadiyandamol is the largest peak in Coorg and the second largest in Karnataka. This trip was special as it was a full moon night as well, something that brought out the lunacy in all of us a tad better. Camp on a mountain, full moon night, guitar, harmonica, fried pork, fire, a bottle of Jack Daniels.. you get the point! As the moon slowly rose up in the sky, my friend Sherwin stood up with the guitar. Facing the cloud filled valley he sang..

"Fly me to the moon, Let me sing among those stars
Let me see what spring is like, On Jupiter and Mars"
[More on the crazy experience...]

Nothing enriches life like travel. Every time you venture out of the four concrete walls that surrounds you otherwise, you get another quick lesson in life. The places you go and the people you meet always have something new to offer. That is probably why I always look out for an excuse to travel. And what better way to relive those moments again than pixellating the beauty as best as you can!

Friendly gestures !

2010-04-29T01:09:00.000-07:00

My friend came visiting yesterday. We were roomies for many years at college and afterward. He was notorious even those days for his cleanliness and discipline. He used to get up early morning on weekends, wash all his clothes, and hang them up neatly on the balcony for drying. The rest of us used to get up much later in the day to the sight of these clean white shirts dancing in the wind. Without doubt this used to be one of the most frustrating moments those days, the thought that you have to get up and go to 'Wash'ington on a beautiful Sunday morning wasn't very encouraging. He used to sit there in the balcony sipping tea, or reading the news paper, with a smile on his face, as the rest of us dragged our holy asses in and out of the washroom.

He was on a day's visit to the city and decided to stay at my place. Considering the nature of the beast, I did spend a couple of hours the night before, burying the dead bodies, cleaning the floor and folding all decent looking clothes while dumping the visibly unpleasant ones into a small basket. I temporarily designated this basket as the 'keeper of dirty clothes', all of which are due for a trip to Washington the coming weekend. Though the real story would most likely be much
different, the arrangement looked credible for the time being. Like the magicians do, I even used 'distraction'- in the form of a large collage near this basket- to drag the eyeballs away from the basket. Then there was the ultimate deception tool - alcohol. Nothing works better than a bottle of wine in keeping your expectations and needs grounded. It did work well and we spent the night talking about good old days. He didn't even notice the cockroach that took a nibble from the peanut plate.

But it was a different story in the morning. The sunlight and coffee brought sense back to our heads and immediately he noticed that the kitchen is not well lit. I wanted to tell him that it was purposeful to avoid stray glances landing on the vegetable cuttings strewn on the floor. But before I could structure the sentence in some meaningful way, he yelled from the bathroom that there is only one tap there. I pretended to be deaf and concentrated on the coffee. It did help temporarily, but only till he discovered that I use the same sink in the kitchen to wash plates, brush and to shave. He also found that the mirror kept just above the sink is so awkwardly positioned that you have to stretch and flex your body like a ballet dancer to get a good look at your face.

I tried to change the subject and started talking about the chick at college whom both of us admired. As I told him the story of meeting her with her husband sometime back, I noticed the prolonged silence from his side. I thought for a moment that he got lost in memories, but realized that he was busy cleaning the mirror. I had never noticed white patches all over it, in fact they looked to give a matte finish to the images. I secretly wished he come visiting every couple of months. Once he finished the morning chores and took a bath, the comments suddenly stopped. He looked like a well fed kid who got nothing more to cry about, though he casually mentioned that he will come a day early next time to fix things in advance. what a nice gesture!

I think one of the side effects of marriage is this unrealistic and unnecessary set of expectations you seem to develop about life. As we were about to walk out of the house, he asked me whether I use deodorant roll-ons. Without waiting for my answer, he took out one from his bag and kept on the side shelf.

He had not even once mentioned the stink. Now, that is what I call friendship!

I see roaches.. dead roaches !

2010-04-26T00:48:00.000-07:00

I grew an year older about two weeks back. It all happened overnight that I didn't even realize. It is a little unfair to wake up one morning and find yourself a tad older but no wiser. My friend called up at midnight to wish me, as if to remind me that she is the only one who remembers my birthday. To be frank, that was the only call I got that night. when I woke up in the morning everything looked the same. No star in the east, no magi with gifts, no welcome banners. Just the same shit, a different day! Don't know what the hell I was expecting anyway!

Thanks to Facebook and Orkut, there were a few more folks who were aware of the tragedy. Some chose to express their delight or disappointment with scraps like "Happy Birthday, how many more before you get married".A few others chose to use the phone, but the same sentiments essentially. It was a little awkward getting so much attention all on a sudden. I felt like Quasimodo who was made the 'pope of fools' and paraded across the streets of Notradame by the Truands. Some of the relatives were super-sensitive in wishing me, always appending the marriage question at the end. I don't know how birthday is related to marriage, but every one of them were adamant on educating me on the importance of the topic this very day.

For the first time I felt like I am doing a crime by staying bachelor on the wrong side of thirty. I am not sure whether people were simply jealous at my freedom or it was the genuine curiosity to see whether my kids look like monkeys once I procreate. Either way, I realized that I am not the only one who is worried about my life and well being. The thought was uncomfortable in some strange way. Whenever someone lectures me on the evils of late marriage, I used to quote the example of my own parents, who had a late marriage but still managed to produce fine pieces like myself. But as we have differences off late on the usage of "fine" and me "in the same sentence, I refrain from quoting that excuse anymore.

But, jokes apart, I have started noticing some changes in life after this birthday. I now see roaches... dead roaches! Few days back when I woke up, I noticed a dead cockroach near my bed. As I walked to the hallway I found two more. There were three more in the kitchen. All of them were dead and strangely were lying on their back. Though I am not an expert on the dying rituals of cockroaches, I think it is reasonable to assume that all of them won't suddenly jump on their back and die. I hadn't used any bug killers and if they could survive on the food I prepare this long, I don't see a reason why they suddenly fall sick and die. I don't think roaches are stupid like us to commit suicide either.

Though I could attribute global warning and economy crisis as two possible causes, (pretty much applicable to anything these days, from earth quakes to ear infections) I see this rather as a sign from the heavens. It definitely has to be a reminder from the powers above (or below.. suit yourself) that I cannot take care of my kingdom and people all alone. I cannot even save poor roaches from dying. What better sign than dead roaches! And this happened once again yesterday which made my rational mind conclude that this is no foolish, random event.

I have a feeling that the rapture is near, or HE wants me married. Either way I am screwed!