Children of Gurez

 Far away in the midst of the snow clad mountains,

Exists a piece of land descended from the heavens
Nestled in the valleys in tiny hamlets,
Amidst flowing streams and rivulets

A meadow of green in the warm summers
Myriad hues during the monsoon showers
A carpet of snow beside the melted glacier,
Each day was a new chapter for nature.

Little ones who grew up in these lands,
With no gadgets but snow and flowers in their hands,
Away from the chaos of distant sands,
With only basic needs and no lavish demands.

A shepherding life for the summers,
A dormant life for the cold harsh winters,
Little ones living in a far away land
Where life has a different story planned.

In the midst of man-made borders and beliefs,
That only give rise to dispute and grief,
Children with their pure innocent soul,
Perhaps bear the heaviest toll.

Quarter of a Century.

Uncertainties and doubts loom large

But it was time for the annual recharge.

They say nature has the power to heal

With renewed vigour and zeal,

I set off towards yet another climb,

Except this was one was past bedtime!

Through the city we trudged for an hour or so,

And then we began our trek underneath the starry glow.

Puffing and panting, I was breathless in minutes,

Looking down, I could see the lights of the nearby rustic huts.

Why go through this, I asked my sedentary self plenty

But perhaps this is Nature's cashless fee.

As the cold winds taunted us towards the edge,

I knew this was a test I could not sledge.

Settling down into a sleeping bag on the hilltop

I realized there are so many things in Life I cannot stop

But the beauty of the nightsky was mine to cherish

The whizzing shooting stars were mine to wish.

Waking up to an ethereal streak of colour

That slowly grew into shades of pink and amber,

A peacock screamed lustily in the distance,

And Nature thus showcased her brilliance.

In the midst of the uncertainty that lies ahead

Not knowing the upcoming paths I shall tread,

This moment would be mine for eternity

Nature demands, but also unconditionally provides.

Backpacker Diaries

"Seriously?!" she asked me in surprise, "You're going alone all the way to Cochin?"

"Are you really going alone or is there something you're not telling me?" said another with a sly grin.

After my spontaneous decision to go backpacking resurfaced, it wasn't difficult to choose: Kochi or Alleppey since I wanted to travel God's Own Country.

After having a good look at the options at hand, I got the travel bookings done thanks to Abhi and BP, packed my bags for 4 odd days, borrowed some sunscreen and a good power bank and set off on yet another journey to explore!


The journey to Mangalore was a night bus and I managed to catch some shut eye despite the window sneaking in cold air as we rattled our way through the Ghats. The next morning after a quick "Wash and Brush" at the dingy bus stop and a simple breakfast, I headed to Mangalore Central, found my way to the right platform and boarded the 7:20 Ernad Express that starts from Mangalore, traverses through Kasargod, Thrissur, Kannur, Kozhikode, Cochin and Alleppey, all the way upto Tirunelveli. It was a pleasant journey with a scenic view of streams, canals, coconut fields and green fields and I reached Cochin by late evening, found myself an Uber and reached Zostel after a 45 minute drive through the city's bustling lanes, overlooking the lit up port and through the quieter neighbourhoods.

Cochin, the conglomeration of Ernakulam town, Mattancherry, Fort Kochi, Willingdon Island and a few other nearby islands, is historically famous its role as a trading centre, a thriving port town and the epicentre of cultural exchanges back in the day. The earliest visitors were probably the Chinese who are known for their most famous contribution to the city: Fishing Nets that dot the landscape of the sealine. After them, came the Arabs, followed by the Portuguese, the Dutch who brought Kochi to the international limelight as the hotspot of spice trade and a commercial hub. Lastly, the British arrived and mainly used it as a colonial settlement but not before it had made a lasting impression in the international circuit for its trade relations. 



So in retrospect, it made perfect sense to me that I had Americans, South Asians and Europeans as roommates and subsequently interacted with a diverse lot in the following day! I opted to go on a boat ride in the morning and we were joined by new travelers along the way until we reached Vaikom. 

Thampi, our guide, told us about the agenda for the day and we set off in two small boats (or canoes) through the backwaters, gently sailing through the narrower canals even as the tree lined canopy shaded us from the heat of the sun. Water snakes, washerwomen and bathing children greeted us along the way until we disembarked at one of the settlements to have a look at the spices like cardomom, clove, bay leaf and nutmeg. We had a glimpse of how coir was made (Unity is Strength was the take home message) and later had a traditional Kerala lunch on a plantain leaf.

During the course of the day, I spent time with my roomates, Gaby and her friend who were Americans working as teachers in Thailand and we shared some light moments and 'rice crackers', a crispy snack from Thailand. There was Naomi and her friend from England who were friendly and we bonded when I realized Naomi was a doctor and wanted to pursue Tropical Medicine. Then there was blue eyed Robin and his friend Yohaan from Germany who were students on a vacation and Ponya, also from Germany who had traveled across the length and breadth of our country. There was a pretty young girl, Anna also from Britain who was on a gap year after finishing high school. Coming to India was a revelation of sorts for her since this was where her parents met when they were in college. Then there was the All American couple, John and Debbie, who were pleasantly surprised to know that I was from Bangalore and not in IT. I learnt a little about the american healthcare system and also why medical tourism in India is picking up rapidly. The web designer from Paris had some stories to share about his stay in Sao Paulo and Germany while Lee, the American shared his experience and photos of the Aarthi at Varanasi. While he worked as a limousine driver for half the year, the other half was (wisely) spent in traveling across the world. 

Post the boat ride, I met another Asian, Nanthini, from Malaysia who was also on a solo trip and we watched a beautiful sunset by the beachside. I was glad to have a fellow companion as we ventured around Kochi at our pace. Perhaps it was the Asian connection or just two individuals bonding over their love for travel but either way, ai was glad to have found a comrade. In a way, Kochi was and still is, the melting pot of many cultures as it continues to attract travelers, tourists, businessmen and artists alike. 

The following day, Nanthini and I made a neat plan thanks to the folks at Zostel and we began with a visit to the Mattancherry/ Dutch palace which houses intricate murals and a lot of artefacts that detail the era of the Kerala rulers. It detailed the lineage of Raja Rama Varma, the matriarchal system, their weapons, wardrobe and a general preview of the life they lead. 


After this we took a walk down the Jew Town and shopped judiciously for curios. A customary visit to the Synagogue showed us a few paintings that explain the role of Jews in Cochin, their arrival, trials and triumphs. For lunch, we headed to Fusion Bay where Nanthini got her much awaited fish curry cooked in the traditional Kerala style with a hint of Mango while I was content with some Okra Masala and Malabar Parota. Post lunch, we rested awhile at Santa Cruz Basilica, refreshed at Zostel and then headed to Kerala Kathakali Centre. 

Kathakali is an ancient dance form originating in Kerala as a variant of Krishnanattam under the then king's support. It is known for its detailed makeup and costume efforts, intricate facial expressions, mudras (hand movements) that signify different meanings and the enactment of a story from any mythological tale such as the Ramayana or Mahabharatha with drum beats, cymbals and vocals to accompany the performance. Kathakali performances are traditionally known to last for several hours and generally involve only male artists. 

We arrived in time to watch the make up in progress which every performer applied by himself for the most part. We were taken through the basics of Kathakali before we began with the story depiction. With rhythmic drumbeats, spirited use of cymbals and intense expressions, it was a complete performance that left one wanting more. 




After dinner at a nearby cafe and bidding goodbye to my newly found friends, I struck up a conversation with my Uber driver as we made our way back to Ernakulam Junction Railway Station for the Maveli Express. A nursing student, he was surprised that someone would travel alone but I think I made some valid points in my defense and appeared to be more open to the idea by the end of the journey. 

A delayed train journey, some Ideal Gudbud for breakfast in Mangalore and a bus ride later, I was back to the comfort of my room in Shimoga with a cartload of memories and the unmistakable self confidence that comes when you know you are independent. :)

PS: Half the pictures are courtesy of Nanthini's photography skills and the rest are probably the last works of my phone as it lies on its deathbed. :P

pre Monday Morose Musings of a Medico

Maybe I should make a To-Do List of all the things I want to blog about before I commence because I actually have many musings to put down.

Anyhoo, Last week I made what will probably be the last Bangalore visit for the year. The journey to Bangalore was actually good. I travelled by the morning train after quite a long time and there’s nothing like a some rainfall, pleasant music and a good weekend to look forward to. It was Di’s Birthday so we had the usual cake cutting and balloons kind of party.

On our return journey, we happened to strike a conversation with two college girls travelling to Shimoga as a part of the ball badminton team from Maharashtra participating in the nationals.

I definitely had a good experience trying to converse with them in my defunct Hindi (“Aap Kahaan se Ho? Nagpur ke saamne? Wahaan ke Orange acche hai na?” and other cringeworthy moments.) Furthermore, they were from Chandrapur , Sevagram and other areas in the interior of Maharashtra and were travelling together for the first time. With great pride, the recounted how one of their seniors selected from a previous such Nationals tournament later went on to join the Olympic team. With their education being funded by a scholarship, they get good support from their family. Most of the compartment uncles asked for their story in turns and gave appreciative nods while the aunty beside me underplayed the whole scenario. (“Swalpa nu English baralla alva? Nagpur Orange enu chanagiralla, Chikmangalore oranges eh chanagiradu.” and other face palm worthy moments).
While Shimoga was inundated with heavy rains the same evening, here’s hoping those girls go far ahead and shine. :)

This week has been hectic to say the least. Getting back to college, we had to finish with the OBG end posting which was taken by Arathi ma’am who had a LOT of questions.

After the Surgery internals were announced (which clashed on point with the South Zone Quiz), we had some running around and letter writing to do which were all duly rejected until further intervention from the Psych Dept ensured that we would take the internals with another term a few days later.

After this came the BNET quiz for which I didn’t really prepare but tried to read up on some Anatomy and our present portions. While I barely scratched the surface of Anat, I must mention how I felt quite happy that day because reading from BDC brought back some memories of Vasudha ma'am explaining the structure with the brain in hand. I really wish I could go back to her just to listen to her teach!

When I got all excited and made stick figure man notes! :')

And so we set off to Dharwad from the hostel around 5AM, boarded the direct bus, alighted at Hubli and finally made it to the sprawling SDM campus. While initially there were no other contestants in sight, they made their appearance by the aforementioned time and the quiz began with an initial MCQ based prelims.So the prelims had about 50 questions in 50 minutes and we did quite well! The finals had about 5 rounds including a rapid fire. While we didn't make it in the finals, BP and Disha came second and will represent our college at the finals in Bangalore. :)

After some snacks at their canteen, we set off towards Hubli to board the bus back to Shimo. We had a make shift meal of Jolada Roti and Random curry and Rice at a nondescript hotel as dinner and headed back to the hostel by 1am.

I had typed a LENGTHY paragraph on my phone which I didn't save and thus I have more reasons to be a grouchy git.

There's always something new to see, some new experience every time I travel.

The little one who began crying when the bus started because his grandpa hadn't got back yet.
The woman who patiently picked out the lice from her husband's head even as he bowed down to her.
The old woman who couldn't stop arguing with the conductor at the top of her shrill voice until another passenger explicitly asked her to shut up.
The young boy looking out of the bus at the young girl standing outside in the evening drizzle; sharing a wordless moment, perhaps until their next reunion.
The lost puppy on the road, the mentally ill man grinning away to glory, the hen on the bus making eerie sounds and the woman crying in the ER..

I could go on but you get my drift; every person, every moment is a story in itself if you bother to look.

So why am I a grouchy git? After yesterday, I felt I am lacking on SO many Basic levels. I mean, there are things you should know and those that are good to know (i.e will be useful later). There is no point trying to work on the second category when you have some loopholes in the first itself. I feel I did not reason out enough but that stemmed from not being aware/sure of so many things to make the necessary connection. Anyhoo, got enough and more on my plate for now!

So by this virtue, I cannot attribute my happiness to any physical entity, person or event. Which would mean I would have to feel intrinsically happy. Does this mean the happiness one gets from any of the above is not to be encouraged because we would be dependant on it? Or is the fear that the deprivation of them would cause us to feel sad?

I don't think I can blog much in the coming weeks (this is the lame lie I come up with every 15 days -_-) but I think it wouldn't be a bad idea to blog instead of spreading my neurotic tension to everyone around me.

On another note, I should probably update my status on all media and issue a public notice that I am not responsible for my lousy acyclical moods; the fault is in Rguhs. -_-

I haven't heard too many new songs lately but I think the old ones more than compensate for it. Am I the only one who feels that moments can be recreated with music? And that the happiness you feel with these pleasant recollections, is probably enough? As in, an old some heard in childhood brings back some cherished memories, the ones from school actually make me laugh because we are all so naive.. :) (Did you know That is her favourite song? It's such a bad song XD)

Further more, I am often torn between having the everything that happens is for the best kind of mindset to the 'No, of course not, why try to see good in bad' kind of comeback. The best resort would be to ignore both and just do what has to be done. (I Didn't say I do that all the time; don't assume.)

Confusedly yours,
J

Chalo Dilli!

The journey began on 14th of June, we boarded the train to Bengaluru and set off towards KIA after a brief halt at 338. Somehow there was a new excitement in flying, given that we were all by ourselves!
After a journey peppered with Bhindi and Chapathi by Amma, we landed at IGI Airport only to be slapped across by the hot and humid weather of the capital.

Nevertheless, we acclimatized slowly, made our way to the Aerocity Metro Station in a bus where we all got Metro Cards for INR 200 which would basically cover our travel expenditures in the coming days.
With a suitcase and backpack each, we boarded the metro, then changed lines to the Yellow Line and deboarded at the hustling Rajiv Chowk. From here we took autos to LHMC (which was around the maze called Connaught Place, something we slowly began to figure out in the course of our stay)

Tired (and hungry AF) we reached, registered and were shown our rooms. Now LHMC is a government hospital that was started over 100 years ago. Please keep this in mind when you imagine the condition of the girls hostels. Abhi BP and I shared a room along with a few other creatures I do not wish to speak about. The ancient rooms had attached washrooms that resembled dungeons with their gloomy lighting, cobwebs and barely there rickety doors. Nevertheless, we settled down and set off for day 1 of sightseeing.

We covered India Gate and Chandni Chowk on day 1 but our appetites were yet to get a true taste of Dilli but for the 'Dahi Bhalla' that is a legacy.

For some reason, Abhi and I could not join the Uber on the way back (passenger limit) so we did this fairly daring thing of walking through creepy gullies to take the last metro back to Rajiv Chowk and then making our way back to Hardinge dodging creepi doods and asking helpful rickshaw bhaiyyas and not getting misled by Google Maps.

The next day was our suturing skills workshop, quite similar to the one I attended at JNMC except there was the smiley Dr Manju Puri who took us through the sessions and here again, we had resident surgeons giving us some hands on exposure.

Post workshop, we headed to Jama Masjid via metro, rikshaw gaadi and on foot. The last leg of the journey was through gallis filled with hawkers, curious bystanders, worshippers and plenty of pickpockets and 'smugglers' as we were warned. Tall and imposing, it was teeming with visitors owing to the ongoing Ramzan season and it made for a photo opp. After this and after much debate we took the metro, changed lines, took an auto again to the thrift shopping enclave: Sarojini Market. After my previous experience with shopping here, I did not hazard another attempt here save for a dreamcatcher, an amphibian soft toy for Di and some new funky super comfortable T.



Dinner was Dominoes at the nearby mall and we headed back to the hostel after a tiring day. The morning of the presentation arrived and after battling the unkind effect of Dilli breakfast on my poor palate (Aloo Aloo everywhere!), it was time to face the music.

The examiners were the HoDs/ senior doctors in their field and asked a lot of questions (unlike my previous presentation in Kolar). I answered a few, accepted that did not know a few and tried valiantly to defend any inconsistencies that they attempted to uncover. BP was with us the whole time and she managed to give some real time answers to a few must know questions by her quick work. The others from Manipal, Jipmer, MAMC and north eastern college also had many interesting cases to report.

After this, we set off again on our next venture. Agrasen Ki Baoli and Jantar Mantar were the monuments we visited on Day 3. Dinner was a peaceful affair; Dominoes (for Sumzzu) and Saravana Bhavan (The South Indian's answer to all food woes).

After this, I got to work on my slideshow for the next day and the news that two entries from our college made it to the final round made us very happy indeed.

The next morning, Govi Varsha and I (I am the eternal third wheel) headed to Akshardham after breakfast at Haldirams and a metro ride on the Noida/Vaishali Lane. Despite the sweltering heat we did not fail to admire the beauty of the temple complex and the intricate architechture.

After this, we headed back and I braced myself for the upcoming presentation. After a barely there lunch of plain rice (papad-esque rotis are not acceptable to me, you see) it was Time!

The presentation went fairly well and Dr Sharda Patra was the second judge along with the medicine HoD(?) from the previous day. The uniqueness of the subject (Psychiatry) got their attention and my USP was that detailed history taking is still the crux of medical diagnosis.

After a seemingly long wait, the results were declared and I had made it to the second place. The first place went to MAMC for a case of chromosomal abnormality (probably the first recorded case in India and among a handful worldwide) that was well researched and presented.

After the prize (and cash :P) distribution, we (Abhi BP and I) headed to Dunkin Donuts at CP for celebratory donuts and the icing on the cake was a south indian Thali at Saravana Bhavan (again after jumping the queue and sneaking in under the aegis of parcels) served by Kannada speaking annas.

(Do you want me to continue?)

This Or That.

They say I think in binaries. 0 or 1. Black or White. Good or Bad. Necessary or Unnecessary.  I see no in between, no intermediate entity. I have always had clear cut definitions. I don’t like blurriness; be it in my vision or in my perspectives. This is how I’ve always been. Do I want to change that? I don’t think so. That perhaps explains the uneasiness that gnaws within me.

There is so much I want to do. Am I really working in that direction? Or am I just working and waiting for everything to miraculously materialize? Ugh, I don’t know where this is stemming from but I’m feeling a lot of discontentment about myself. Is it probably inversely proportional to how ‘happy’ I momentarily feel?

I pride myself for my ability to not be influenced by the choices of those around me. It is one trait I hold close to myself hence, I’m pondering if I am consciously responsible for my actions or have I been influenced by those around me, willingly or unwillingly. 

Gokarna, March 2017 with Abhi and BP.

I don’t have the answers to any of these. I know I think too much, trust me, I don’t like it either that my brain keeps churning out such inane rubbish in the midst of an Aortic Aneurysm and I tuck away these thoughts in a tiny cubicle in my brain, assuring it that I will open the Pandora’s Box once I get the time to blog about it. :)

I want to talk a lot more but I don’t know if this is the medium to unload all my burdens, but it makes sense to reflect to oneself instead of somebody else because you will eventually hear an opinion, an advice, a suggestion or better still, a similarity in thought. All of which is unnecessary when all you need is a mirror. A plain mirror to lay the bare truth in front of your eyes; with all its ugliness, its scars, bruises and perfect imperfections. And that cannot come from anyone but me. (To cut a long story short, I find it as important, or probably more important to understand myself, consolidate my thoughts and be a whole person by myself than anything else. 

Or is this defensive attitude stemming from my fear of being influenced by new ideas and thoughts? 

What is nice may not be necessary and what is necessary may not be nice. 

In the end, nothing matters except what you believe in, what you stand for and what you do.

Subtleties are always better. I could write a million lines on everything I can imagine, which a far more powerful tool than reality is. I want my imagination back. I find much more beauty in metaphors, in an indefinite entity than in the raw face of reality. 
Maybe. 

And that reminds me;

http://scienceblogs.com/mixingmemory/2006/07/17/the-cognitive-science-of-art-r/

Read under ‘Perceptual Problem Solving’. I remember reading those very lines in VS Ramachandran’s Emerging Mind.

On an unrelated note, the marriage seems to have bitten the GRS family cousins as 2* more have fallen for the trap and wedding bells shall be ringing throughout this year. 

Jogging everyday hasn’t helped in physically (Let’s be honest :P ) but it certainly elevates my mood and automatically trashes all the clutter that I tend to attract with a magnet. -_-

Can’t wait to meet my super-achieving Minnulli over this month end (hopefully). :)

Bye Bye Old Faithful :)

(Trust me I’m not a raving lunatic who fondly addresses a virtual entity and distances actual people who listen to her. I just like me more.) 

Oh Bee Ji, Sir Jerry and more

This was supposed to be this exuberant post about the many things going on right now in life but it’s going to be all the headlines sans that dose of saccharine sweetness!

I realize that I’ve not spoken much about how college is going on in a long time.

So we had Surgery Postings and it wasn’t too bad. Nagraj Sir did a fairly good job with every class that he engaged us in. We took cases (most of us) and presented them. The EPT wasn’t all that great though, I basically had to speak over Arun Kumar Sir to let him know that I did know a thing or two and he didn’t have to answer his own damn question all the time! We saw a lot of ulcers (in the leg and foot), sebaceous cysts, varicose veins, hernias (inguinal as well as umbilical), a few cases of lumps in the breast and one of thyrotoxicosis. On the whole, it gave us about 15 cases in one month and ample time for me to watch Suits when the OPD would be empty. We didn’t get to go to the OT this term since the seniors get preference but there weren’t too many cases in the first place, truth be told.

It’s been about 2 weeks since OBG started and it’s a lot more organized than the other department which is a double edged sword. The good thing is that there is no dearth of cases here so all you need to do is to be on the lookout for the case you need. I had to present a case of Fibroids along with an absconding adjacent batch mate and it was not bad, I guess.

The Ophthalmology Department expects us to present seminars on designated topics every week and my last one was a COMPLETE disaster so I had to make amends this time. The topic was Colour Blindness and so there was ample scope for pictures and the occasional joke. As usual, I was nervous prior to the seminar and from what I was told, I hurried through the slides but it was definitely a lot better than the previous one. :)

And yes, last week I ended up attending NISACON 2016 in JNMC Belgaum. I’m not really sure how the whole thing transpired but one thing led to another and Akhila and I did this race against time to reach Belgaum. It was a budget mission (that blew completely out of proportion) and the KSRTC bus strike at that time just made things all the more difficult for us (not the mention the yearly Purle Jaathre that COMPLETELY blocks the road connecting our college to the rest of Shimoga). So we boarded a bus to Harihar, another to Davangere to reach the Railway Station at 6:40 for the Sampark Kranthi Express scheduled to arrive at DVG at 6:40PM precisely. Thankfully Indian Railways doesn’t always adhere to the aforementioned timings so we had enough time to grab some dinner parcels and catch our breath before setting off towards Belgaum (unsure of our accommodation). 

As Akhila managed to convince normalcy on the homefront, we realized that we might have to travel by ourselves to the campus in the middle of the night and this was unsettling. I was quite lucky that MaPa agreed on such short notice and had even arranged stand-by accomodation with Chikkoo (my first roommate, FYI) But thankfully, I realized it was just me being HD because the JNMC peeps were there at the station to pick us up and we did get accommodation after reaching campus around 1.30AM (Whaaaaaat?!) The next two days passed in a blur; workshops on Surgical Skills (which was pretty cool considering how we actually tried out the suture techniques on artificial material) and ECG (which was good but just not enough time to actually know it that well), campus tours with Adi (surprise surprise!), some interesting lectures on Robotic Surgery (it’s the future of surgery, they say) and even a DJ night which wasn’t half bad. (or maybe I’m finally getting a hang of them :’) )

On the third day, the seven of travelled to Gokak by bus, boarded another to Gokak Falls and took a God-forsaken unbearably jam-packed bus to Godachina Malki falls which had a good view but given that it was a Sunday; it was quite populated. The return journey took hellishly long and the seating arrangement is something I’d like to forget at the earliest! *that moment when all of us start yelling at the conductor when he actually dared to ask us to budge a bit to seat yet another passenger in the overloaded bus*

Nevertheless, we managed to reach just in time for the bus back to Shimo and after a mild e-ticket scare; we hogged on parcelled KFC and called it a night. The next morning it was back to business in OBG and thus, it was the end of a short but memorable trip. It was unexpected and I came back with some unexpected memories :)

On the whole, the past month had some interesting events and its fair share of excitement and drama. It’s been a long time since I’ve set foot in Bangalore (for a sufficiently long time) and it looks like even this time it’s going to be a “flying visit” but one does not mess with the OBG Ladies so I can’t do much about it. -_-

Something about the travel to Belgaum made me realize how different life is in North Karnataka. It kind of explains why people from NK are the way they are. Of course, I might be generalizing but there’s a stark contrast with how things are back home in Namma Bengaluru where are aplenty and there is no dearth of options for a person unlike how it up north. Here a person might have to work against odds to reach their destination and that’s probably what makes them resilient in the face of hardships.

Books I’ve been reading include:

• Sensory Deception (All about sensory saturation and virtual reality set against the backdrop of global warming and animal extinction)
• It happens for a reason by Preethi Shenoy (about premarital pregnancy in the Indian setup and the aftermath based in Bangalore)
• Letters to Love (another run-of-the-mill story about two adults thrown together after a tragedy and how they move from staunch enemies to something else. -_-)
• Detour from normal (About how a person with mental illness copes with it and analyses what he is going through)
•  Flying blind (based on Amelia Earhart’s final expedition where she went missing and subsequent attempts to trace her)
• Into The Wild by John Krakauer (a thought provoking book about the life and times of a young man who sets out an a solo expedition in Alaska. Described by some as foolish and lauded by others for his bravery, his story will nevertheless leave you thinking for longer than you might be prepared for.)

Musicophilia:

• Stand In The Rain (Superchick, TB to the old times, Heard this recently on my old phone)
• Thinking Out Loud (Ed Sheeran. I watched Me Before You recently)

Ciao :)

North East Part 2

We reached Gangtok around 8PM and our lodging was Maple Residency, a brand new hotel with good interiors. We got to meet the tour operator Mr Roshan who briefed us on what was in store for us next. The next morning we set off towards Nathu La with all our warm clothes bundled together  for further use. We received the permit on the way and began another journey through the mountains. This time, the gradual change in scenery was evident; from lush green mountains dotted with waterfalls, the landscape morphed into a dry and sparsely vegetative land with mounds of ice lying in heaps. The air was chilly and it continued to drizzle through the journey. We were not alone in our journey as scores of other vehicles were heading in the same direction. One of the locals accompanied us in our journey and she had a stall enroute to Tsong Mo Lake. Like most other people, she lived up in the mountains on most days with her sisters where they served tourists with refreshments and provided warm clothing and boots on rent and returned to their home in Gangtok once in a while. We had another Tea break here (might I add that I was sorely tempted to try some alcohol that would suit the cold climate but then, perhaps that is for another day..) and got some boots for the icy terrain that awaited us. The four of us downed Diamox (Acetazolamide) as the high altitude was bound to make us uncomfortable. We reached Tsong Mo Lake just as the mist was beginning to set in and had some customary Yak photos with Raju, the pink-horned Yak.

In your to visit Nathu La Pass, not only does every individual need permit but the vehicle in which you will be travelling also requires another permit. The vehicle in which we were supposed to travel arrived a good 2 hours late (when we had almost given up hope that it would turn up) and with no way or contacting them (no network in these areas!! Except for good old BSNL which is used by .000000001% of the population) we were a frozen, frustrated lot! When the vehicle finally did arrive along with some more people headed towards NLP, we were all bundled together and began yet another journey through winding lanes in progressively deteriorating weather. When we reached the entrance, the weather was anything but supportive of our quest, and the rain showed no signs of relenting. 

Nevertheless, Athhe, Mama and I began climbing upwards through the ice along with dozens of other tourists. There was no path demarcated and one could not see beyond a few feet ahead. We kept asking for directions until we saw a small café tucked inside the ice. We gulped steaming hot tea and some a few momos that scalded our tongue but the heat was a welcome change from the biting cold. The trenchcoat I was wearing was not waterproof; hence I was now soaked down to my feet. I have never experience such extreme climate in all my life and the high altitude was another factor. A father and daughter duo was returning and the father seemed rather shaken by the ordeal and advised against proceeding further as visibility was too poor to see across the border. With a sense of relief mingled with some regret we returned back to the base where we boarded our jeep and began our journey back. An army truck had lost control and was lodged in a ditch so we were delayed by an hour or so.

I must take a moment to describe our driver for the day, Sanjay. A Nepali by origin, he was plump chap and had the demeanour of a cheeky schoolboy, a sarcastic comeback for every dialogue and a witty sense of humour. Although we were downcast with the weather forecast, he entertained us through the journey and dearest Atthe, who I consider as a shining example of beauty with brains (*cough*) finally found an opponent who could retort with equal sarcasm.

We returned to Maple Residency, freshened up and warmed ourselves and took an uphill walk (it seemed like a 70° incline) towards MG Marg. The tiled road does not allow vehicles and flowery lampposts adorned the median path. The road had a European touch to it and one could not help but admire the smart and well dressed women, the handsome policemen and the absolutely adorable little ones. We shopped a little and I purchased a few trinkets. We took a taxi back to our hotel in time for dinner and headed to bed.

The next day we were denied the North Sikkim Permit due to bad weather and we decided to tour Gangtok. Our driver for the day was Deepak, a football player and he was notorious for asking us to alight a good 1km away from the tourist spot with the blatant lie “Nazdeek Hai”. As most of the places are located on a hill top, we trudged along the steep incline wondering how on earth this was “nearby”. Our first visit was to Rumtek monastery and it was fairly crowded with a lot of people seated in the courtyard, on the terrace and along the pavements. We were later informed that it was a holy day for Buddhists and there were special prayers in progress. We witnessed form of dance/ritual performed with elaborate costumes, a menacing headgear and gigantic white boots. We visited the monastery and then did some more shopping at a souvenir store. After this, our next destination was Namgyal Institute of Tibetology which had a a good collection of Tibetian manuscripts, artefacts and explanation of their various practices. One thing we had noticed at the monasteries (Rather, Atthe noticed and we later realized) was how there were always seven bowls/cups of water placed in front of the deity. It was here that we got an explanation for the same.

After this, we had a good lunch (Cheese Pizza) at Hotlinks and proceeded towards Netuk House. This was a homestay with a beautiful garden and a lot of flowers. It had a homely feel to it and just like the other places; we scammed their WiFi without much delay. :P Mild showers left us worried but we equipped ourselves with umbrellas and headed towards MG Marg. We spent the evening here and then returned back to Netuk House in time for dinner where we met another family from Pune. With hopes for the much awaited Permit, we retired for the night.

The next morning after a lot of anticipation, the prestigious Permit was granted to us and we set out towards Lachen with minimal luggage. Our driver Tenzing, an elderly man, seemed like a no nonsense guy and was working on a timeline. He seemed like a seasoned driver and himself hailed from North Sikkim but somehow we couldn’t establish a rapport with him as with the other drivers so far. Along the route, streams confluenced into a cascade and to the city dweller it was indeed a treat to the eyes as they dotted the scenery. We stopped at Mangam for lunch were we met another Kannada family (coincidentally, it was another Balu!). The drizzle picked up pace and soon it was torrential rain and the waterfalls were swollen. Rocks on the road could only mean that they had fallen from the shaky ground above and the overcast sky could only predict gloom. Nevertheless, our driver was optimistic and hoped to reach us to our destination at the earliest. We stopped at Naga falls where the water roared downhill, cutting through the rocks and flooding the cemented bridge. The road ahead seemed daunting and at times, it didn’t seem like a road but a mere excavation through the mountain that stood precariously. We halted at Chumthang for tea where several other travellers huddled together for some chai in the rain. It was here that our driver informed us that the road back to Gangtok was closed due to the collapse of a bridge but we didn’t realize the magnitude of his words until much later.

 We set out towards Lachen and the road was empty save for the villagers gleefully pointing out “Raastha band hai”. Solitary boulders dotted the road and we passed through rickety bridges even as the chocolate brown water gushed downhill with an alarming intensity. The lack of any other vehicles in either direction did not help matters and we were now beginning to question our decision. A lone army jeep was perched atop the hill and we approached the officer for guidance. He advised against proceeding further as the road had caved in due to landslides at 3-4 places. With a heavy heart we returned towards Chumthang and took a turn towards Lachung (the other place on our itinerary). We progressed about a kilometre only to see dozens of tourist vehicles returning back as the roads had caved in here as well. Fate had ordained that Chumthang was the halt for the night so our driver spoke to the owner of the Chai-Snacks place and we were allowed to stay at their place for the night. If you are wondering why we didn’t stay at a hotel, let me assure you that this sleepy little village had none! Chumthang is just another village at the intersection of Lachen, Lachung and Gangtok with nothing significant except for a beautiful Gurudwara.(which has a history of its own…).

We checked into Chumthang residency with mixed feelings; regret for not having made it but gratitude for having food and shelter for the night. Several other tourists were seen scrambling for a place and some were granted permission to sleep in the premises of the gurudwara. We had a room to ourselves, a few thick blankets, bedding and a candle. The twist of events had left us all in varying states of unrest and each of us reacted in different ways to the same situation. The lady of the house was hospitable and they prepared some Dal, rice and fried vegetables for dinner. Her husband, son, daughters, daughter in law and grandson (which we later realized was a granddaughter), three dogs and two cats all lived in that building and that night they opened their doors to 8 Gujarathis, a family of 3 from Delhi and the four of us. The little one entertained us with her antics and it is sheer sadness that I have no photo of her or the daughters. We later heard that not only had the bridge collapsed and washed way in entirety by the waterfall but another landslide had occurred some distance from the bridge and some unfortunate tourists were stranded between the two points with nowhere to go for the night. The night was long and cold and I had some terrifying dreams I would like to forget asap but the next morning was clear and sunny (a lot of touch wood happened at this observation because we could no longer dare to forecast the weather with certainty).

Our tour operator, Roshan was assured us that they would do their best to get us back to the mainland and we took a long walk along the streets of Chumthang town where we met scores of other tourists who had met with the same fate. At the army checkpost, one of the officers assured us that the army would construct a bridge and even urged us to go the Lachen for the day. We spoke to him for a while and slowly began to appreciate the magnitude of work done by the army which mostly goes unrecognized. After receiving a green signal from an army officer and news that Roshan had reached the site of the bridge collapse, we set out back to Gangtok. The army had constructed a makeshift bridge from tree trunks and it was secure enough to handle the tourists. A young lad transported our luggage across the river and through the slippery terrain even as army officers helped us at every juncture *wink*. Once again, we met the other Balu and his family and we exchanged stories of our ordeal. After waiting in the hot sun, the 8 of us (with our entire luggage) set off in a jam packed Bolero towards Gangtok. 

Echoes from the border.

The wind howled, its cries echoed across the mountains and the clouds overhead rumbled ominously. As Lieutenant Amit Singh swerved the truck over yet another curve, he glanced at the steep fall that awaited him if he faltered on this precarious route. So accustomed he was to the mundane routine, freezing temperature and rugged existence that he seldom allowed his mind to wander. Behind him were thirteen other army trucks, also carrying supplies to the next base camp.

Scores of tourists frequented these routes every summer. For them, it was a dream vacation to experience the biting cold, to endure high altitudes and travel through rugged terrain. He smiled to himself at the irony; his ideal vacation was to spend a week in the hustle and bustle of his hometown, Kanpur with his family.

His reverie was clouded by the looming mist and only the headlights of vehicles shone through the foggy veil. He switched off the engine and embarked from the truck. About 100 metres away, was yet another vehicle that had lost control on the road and was now stuck in a pit. Vehicles from both sides could not move both ways even as the driver struggled to get the wheel out of the trench.

As his colleagues also arrived to find out the cause for the commotion, the crowd became noisier, the honking grew louder and they anticipated a quick fix to the situation. Tourists were impatient and wanted to reach the highest point. Together, they moved the vehicle out of the pit and the road was once again cleared.

As they approached the camp, the supplies were unloaded and he then made his way to his deployment for the next month. By far, the most favoured among his colleagues, being posted at Nathu La Pass was something he looked forward to experience.

The rain did not seem to daunt the tourists as they braved the hail and snow and began the uphill ascent. At 14200 feet above sea level, one can have very few things running in their mind. The body has not adapted to the extreme climate so most of your energy and thoughts are focused on self-preservation. He watched as young men and women climbed eagerly in anticipation of the Indo-China border.

An elderly man hobbled through the snow, unsure of his next step. He extended a hand to the old man to help him proceed further but the old mans stopped short and gave him a quick salute and continued onwards. Such was the sincerity in his eyes that Lieutenant Amit Singh was startled.

As he made his way further up, a family of three was making its way to the pinnacle even as they were soaked completely by the rain and snow. The little girl’s teeth chattered and she shivered violently with every gust of wind. Her hair was tied into pigtails and drenched in the rain, but she continued to plough her way through the snow.

It was at that precise moment that Lieutenant Amit Singh understood why every soldier returned a happy man after their deployment at Nathu La Pass. Maybe it had something to do with how the mind plays tricks when you are subjected to extremes, but as he looked into the big brown eyes of an unknown girl saluting him, he saw in her, his very own Anjali. Although she was far away from him and anticipating his return, he knew how she often told her friends with pride, “My Papa is protecting our country!”.

The little girl shook hands with him and trudged along with renewed determination but Amit Singh stood rooted to the spot, dazed momentarily by swirling emotions within.

True, tourists might seem as an unnecessary responsibility at an International Border but it is during days like this that you realize how it is also a good thing.

The little girl walked away with the memory of an Indian soldier, but the Lieutenant was consumed by the familiar ache, the unquenchable longing for a home he barely frequented, for the family that was fast becoming accustomed to his absence and for his children who were growing up faster than he could keep pace with.

That night, as he lay in his bunker, he opened the letters from home and began reading the untidy scrawls by his Anjali progressing to legible sentences and now, a well-articulated letter. Tears welled inside him as her remembered her first footsteps; the only milestone that he had witnessed.

True, it was a hard life and many continued to question his decision but he believed in what he was doing and he was proud of his choice. He was a soldier of the Indian army and he knew that despite everything, his family was equally proud of his decision to serve the country.

North East Part 1

It’s been ages since I blogged and once again I am at a loss for words. There’s so much I need to fill up on that I don’t think I can even do it!

So the much awaited trip is finally over but I still seem to be in a hangover. There was pre-Trip excitement and now there is post trip euphoria. Will I ever reach steady state equilibrium?

I wish I could be that person who gives a beautiful travelogue chronicling the journey from Day 1 to Day 10 but sadly I simply cannot do it. Or else I’m going to do a really short version of that and then elaborate on some snapshots.

So we started off from Bangalore on 10^th of May around 7.30 towards Kempegowda Airport and had a quick breakfast on the way. The landscaping enroute to the airport has been spruced up to give any person landing in Bangalore a wonderful impression of the city. Broad lanes, flowering shrubs on the sideway and skyscrapers doting the foreground made it picture perfect. :)

Call me a kid but I still am and perhaps will always be excited by air travel. The whole atmosphere of the airport makes you feel you are out to do something big! *me and my silly thoughts*But to be honest, a lot more people travel by flight these days. Our Indigo flight was packed to the brim and it seemed like the AC compartment of BLR-Shimoga train except this was high up in the sky amidst the clouds! After a fairly uneventful journey and some blatant gazing at the airhostesses we landed at the Baghdoghra Defence Airport which is tiny compared to BLR airport. Our Driver for the first leg of the journey, Amrit had arrived and we bundled into the Innova and set off. After lunch at Bihari vegetarian restaurant we proceeded towards Darjeeling through mild showers and through tea gardens on flat land. In the initial leg of the journey, background music was provided by me and it made the journey all the more beautiful as we made our way through the hills. We had a quick Maggie stop and began the first of innumerable “Tea Breaks”. We reached Darjeeling by 8.30 and the drizzle had intensified into a steady shower as we checked into Little Tibet. It was a cute property (as we discovered in the morning) but we were exhausted by a day of travel so we had a quick dinner and hit the sack.

The next day was Darjeeling sight-seeing. We did not visit Tiger Hill (famed for its flaming red view of the Kanchenjunga) as the mist had not cleared after yesterday’s rains so it was unlikely that we would see much. We visited a few places like the Japanese Temple, Peace Pagoda and a tiny art gallery which is promoted as a tourist attraction. We visited the Padmaja Naidu Zoological Park for its main attraction, the red panda where we also happened to meet Likki and her family. Lunch was at this hotel near the zoo and after this we headed towards the Tibetian Refugee Centre where we saw a lot of kids who were probably used to being photographed! Our next stop was Mall Road where we did some shopping and hogging in Pizza Hut (Ah, Bliss!). We visited the famous Glenary’s Bakery. It’s a 1950’s café where you can sit out and watch the mountains over a cup of tea and you will not realize how time flies. After this we walked further ahead on Mall Road till we reached an open air theatre where people performed some acrobatics on one side and on the other side was a screen playing Arijit Singh’s tracks. We spent a good few hours here and then returned to Little Tibet for dinner.

Day 3 began on a drizzly note so we sent up our prayers which were duly answered. We drove out of Darjeeling and made our way towards Pelling. We drove through the hills and children walked along the sides as they made their way towards schools. Dressed to suit the chilly weather, young girls and boys walked under the shade of umbrellas in the backdrop of mountains. For them it was another day, for us it was a memory to cherish. We waved out to them, some waved back and a little boy cried as he watched his geometry box slip and tumble down the mountains.

We drove alongside the Teesta River flowing in all her glory through the mountains. The rains subsided as we reached Melli.  We took the longer round which would give us 5-6 rapids and lasted about 40 minutes. We were driven to the rafting point in a jeep and believe it or not, 16 people were bundled together in a single jeep (including the rafting men hanging on to the sides of the vehicle!). Nidhi and I took the oars (while I strongly believe that majority of the work was done by the pros seated at the back, it was still a tiring job to row through the force of the river but everytime we faced the rapids, it was an amazing feeling as the raft rocked to and fro and threatened to turn over but was expertly maneuvered by the raftsmen  (I made that up lol). So we struck up a conversation with one of the raftsmen and when we revealed that we were from Karnataka, he amazed us with a “Kannada swalpa swalpa baratte” since he’d lived here for a few years. Nidhz and I took a dip in the Teesta River and it was cool and refreshing. I still cannot believe how I was singlehandedly hauled out of the river by the raftsman as though I was just another fish in the river! Post another maggi and chai session, lunch was at Hotel 10zing where I tried the local delicacy of Thukpa but perhaps it was not meant for me! We proceeded further towards Pelling and we reached Norbu Gang in the evening. It was another drizzly evening so we stayed inside our wooden cabins and warmed the room with the heater. We took a long walk in the rain, explored the cute property and then settled down after dinner.

The next morning was fairly sunnier and Mama and I took an early morning walk, spotted a tiny petrol bunk at the edge of a cliff and failed to get a decent cup of tea anywhere. Our new driver was Bittu who had decked up his Xylo with ManU merchandise. We started off towards Rabdentse ruins but did not venture further. We instead visited Pemayangtse Monastery from where we got a good view of the ruins and we spent some time observing the architecture of the monastery and the carvings, scriptures and paintings on the walls. We visited Singshore Bridge which is the second largest suspension bridge at a length of 189 metres. The view was magnificent and called for some photoshoots. As we proceeded further in our journey, waterfalls accompanied us and the joy of watching fresh water cascade downhill is indescribable. Through the course of this journey we had some great music providing a wonderful backdrop against the scenery. From Bollywood to English tracks to even some Nepali numbers, the playlist was just perfect!! We reached Kecheopalri Lake in the afternoon and this is supposed to be a holy lake where wishes made are said to come true. I bought one of those “Om Mane Pe Me Hu” Thoranas and it’s the one thing that I’ve added to my corner of the room to bring some colour. Lunch was at this veg restaurant suggested by the driver and we even saw some legit South Indian food and also CURD (Woohoo. When I say Curd, It was REAL LIVE CURD, not the uggh yuck muck kind of curd they make from the powdered milk! :P

 Kanchenjunga Falls was the next pitstop and it was tucked away in the interior. One of the locals helped us hop nearer to the falls ensuring that we didn’t slip on the way.There really is no word to describe how you feel as you watch pure unadulterated, unpolluted, crystal clear water gushing down in all its glory and splash across leaving a wave of lush greenery around it. That is how nature paints her magic; silently, quietly but so remarkably inimitable.

After this, we travelled further through hills and valleys until we reached Yuksom which is basically the starting point for the Goecha La / Dzongri trek. (DO read about these epic treks lasting for 9/10days entailing sleeping in tents, under the open skies and living it rough until you reach the Goecha La peak) We were to stay at Tashi Gang Hotel (we learnt later that this was actually managed by Danny Denzongpa [the Bollywood actor btw]’s brother). It’s remarkable how useful online reviews are, because the description perfectly matched what we had read on TripAdvisor. True to the review, the hotel was good and the view was promising but it seemed like it was only managed by a couple of teenage boys. Just as we had read, they sat watching the television and much to our (particularly Atthe’s) chagrin, it appeared that there were no other tourists residing In the entire hotel. Black and white photographs of Lepcha and Bhutia tribes of Sikkim taken in the 1800s adorned the eerie walls and bugs and beetles awaited us indoors. Atthe and Nidhi skipped dinner, so Mama and I went down and saw that they had prepared quite a few things (for the only residents of the hotel!). In most places, when we specified that we were strictly vegetarian, you could notice how their face fell by the tiniest fraction. Eggs, Chicken and Meat probably form a vital part of their diet so they were not used to such a ‘plain’ fare. We asleep soon enough and I had the most ABSURD dream. EVER. 

The next morning we woke up a beautiful view in our balcony (as promised by the TripAdvisor review), packed up and left towards Ravangla, Namchi and Samdrupse Hill.

Ravangla has a huge Buddha statue and a shrine underneath with a lot of intricate murals describing the life of Buddha. I purchased a few souvenirs here and we had some hot momos, maggi and more chai. The place was well maintained and flowers of all varieties enhanced the picture perfect frame. After this we headed to Namchi in South Sikkim where a huge statue of Shiva was at the epicentre while 12 temples (of the Jyothirlingas) surrounded it along with  4 Dhams (Rameshwar, Badri, Dwarka and Puri- This does not refer to the traditional 4 dhams as established by Adi Shankaracharya). After a quick lunch of Roti and Subzi, we did our round of the temples and then proceeded towards Samdrupse Hill. It was during the journey that Atthe struck up a conversation with the driver and discovered more about him. It was indeed surprising to know that he was a post graduate and intended to get into the Police force and had already made an attempt. Just like how Appa engaged Tanveer (our driver in Kashmir) with a lively banter, we learnt a lot about Sikkim, its culture and people through these interactions.

Some of the snapshots: 
I intend to share more pictures of our travels but my crappy network does not seem to support this idea. -.-

At the Kanchenzonga Falls

View from 301, Tashi Gang, Yuksom 

At Ravangla Buddha Park

View from Norbu Gang, Pelling

At Peace Pagoda, Darjeeling.

BRB.