Jungle diaries - First day ends

 I had got allocated to the Gopalswamy Betta range or GS Betta range. That range was controlled from the RFO's office itself, and not any makeshift camps. 

This is just one of the many ranges within the Bandipur reserve. And definitely not a good one for sighting animals, as it is situated just outside the park boundaries and meant mainly for administrative purposes than core wildlife activities. 

I got a different camp than the others I had got acquainted with by that time. There were a lot of haggling and transfers. I didn't feel like asking any, even knowing well that I was going to a weak buffer zone just outside the gate.

I was clearly dejected and devoid of any company or contact to improve my situation. I had literally given in.

The instructions were provided and the manuals shared were largely in Kannada with forms to fill. Had gone around getting the key fields translated at least.

At least I should make myself useful wherever it is.

4-5 people finally joined out jeep which is HQ for the entire park. There we heard that the beats are waste and Hangala nearby has better sightings. Two experienced guys in our batch immediately opt for it and are taken there, leaving me and Ravi Kiran here at HQ.

The rooms are bad. No water, no guards for company, and no one to cook. This isn't what was promised at the briefing which promised well stocked camps with guards and lots of responsibilities.

The room was basically a small one with a shelf to keep some stuff and a space to sleep on the floor. The toilets too were in an exterior building somewhere behind the HQ. This building was part of some kind of quarters for the staff, minus the furniture they had.

Hopefully, someone would come in soon. And the beats aren't promising either. But keeping hope that this experience would be positive.

By this point, I was regretting various decisions, starting from the very first one to enroll for the exercise to not asking for a better position. It took a bit more of mental affirmations to find the right attitude to bear it.

Ah, there is a lot of politics and inteferences. Sitting idly outside the room, I can see after all the shortlisting, people who just walked in also were being accepted. So much for the formal application processes we had gone through. I could have haggled and tried to get into the core zones, but I didn't even try. 

Keeping fingers crossed and making plans in mind to utilize opportunity to maximum.

Hope my other friends are getting a better treatment and are enjoying.

Signing off for now.

-Vivek

1st day at Tiger census Bandipur

Suomi

[A very nice topic that has a special place in mind, but I don't have a space in my mind anymore for old drafts. Hence publishing it. Will follow up with a proper travelogue if I care about it enough ]

Finland!

A name that always popped up in my mind with visions of ice rinks and ice hockey. And of course the name Helsinki rhymes well with rinks. "Helsinki sinks in rinks.."

So it was an like an explosive reaction when last year I found myself staring down the wings of an KLM Airbus as it cleared the clouds and flew low over the almost pitch black skies over Helsinki. There it was. Finland - and it looked nothing like what I had thought it to be.

Though I was able to do my basic research, the kind I wouldn't have done before, it couldn't prepare me for what was to become my permanent record of the land - the smell of birch, the quaint silence and the almost permanently frost at the tip of my nose.

 

Jungle diaries

[Been in draft for quite long. Not sure how to improve it further, hence publishing]

Having had thought through the idea of penning my jungle diaries umpteen times, I am not sure which way would sound best without unnecessary details. I now think I should try the narration style rather than the diary style.

The tale begins with me leaving for Mysore a day ahead of the scheduled date. I recall to date, how I forced myself to sleep extra as rest of my room mates left for their respective offices. I checked and rechecked my To-Do list and mentally made calculations for acquisitions. I had still many items pending in the list, and my plans were rather loose in nature (as it usually is) .

With no one to discuss with or consult, I just went about with whatever came to mind, hoping it would suffice, and set out for Mysore. Reaching there by evening, by a friend's grace, I set out with my acquisition plan. It involved going half way around the city and meeting other friends who had agreed to lend their equipments. Thanks to my pals who were into wildlife and travel, I received a sleeping bag and a pair of binoculars. With it, I felt I had enough stuff in my arsenal to survive in the jungle without too much trouble. I slept peacefully at my friend's place that night, content with the acquisitions.

Early next morning, I caught a bus to Ooty. The route to Ooty runs through the Bandipur forest and the conductor informed me that I could get down at some certain point and walk rest of the way to the gates. In the bus, I noticed many others who were dressed and carrying equipments like me. So I kept my eyes and ears tuned to catch any mention of the census. I had begun to feel nervous and excited at the same time as I had no idea where I was headed to, and what I ought to be doing there. A bit of spying helped to quell that stress a bit :)

Outside the gates, I met a few guys who had come in from various parts of Karnataka to participate in the census. These guys were excited and loaded with information about the entire process. I was able to quell much of my nervousness just by chatting with these guys. My lack of experience, company and language barriers did annoy me a bit, but I was just enjoying the moment, anticipating the unknown.

Soon enough, the inauguration was underway and the officials came forward to explain various aspects of the procedure of the National Tiger census. Coupling that with the chit-chat we were having amongst ourselves, I was able to build a rather decent image of what lie ahead.

After lunch, we were to be allotted our respective ranges. These ranges would be where we would be stationed for the entire period of the census. There was a considerable amount of excitement and apprehensions among the volunteers, as it seems the nature of experience varied across ranges. There were supposedly some camps deep in the jungle which provided excellent chances of spotting tigers and/or other highly sought after animals. These camps were also mostly inaccessible, provided with only bare necessities and in practice meant a real hard life in the jungle, fraught with danger of wildlife. On the other extreme of the scale, lie ranges which were on the outskirts, buffer areas and near the offices of the department, offering fewer or no wildlife, but overall a more comfortable stay. Needless to say, no one preferred the latter.

With the excitement rising, and many groups already talking about using their contacts and influence to get desired camps, I felt completely stranded. I had never even considered such a situation, and with no knowledge of which camps are good or whom to ask, I just sat quietly. Soon, the names of people allocated to various camps were called out, followed by varied responses and frantic requests for exchanges and adjustments. I could see that not all such requests were granted.

In the next one hour, I was allocated to some camp's name which I couldn't make out, and after following several instructions to change camps based on someone else's requests, I was finally asked to board a jeep. I silently did that, and found 5 others for company. We quickly got introduced to each other by the time the jeep reached our destination camp. Having completely lost sense of whatever was going on, I slowly recovered now and listened carefully to one of the fellows who seemed to know certain things. It was heart wrenching to realize from his words that we had been sent to probably one of the worst camps. Even worse than the fact that I was completely clueless was that I couldn't react to what was gonna happen next..

Reflections and Refractions - Part 2

With the ink flowing, one must quickly commit the thoughts to paper.
Otherwise the ability to think and judge would catch up with those words and dry up the ink as well.

1st June 2019:

In movies, before we jump into the new frame, new location and start the action, we need a break.
So did I and my family. So we set out to the very old frame, my hometown.

One might imagine a visit to ones hometown as a regular affair. But if the house is locked for almost a year, and visits are only 2-3 days long every year, one generates quite a lot of yearning for the old, dusted and capped memories and emotions.

Boooring...

Anyway, to not lose the focus of the story, I will just cut short by adding that it was a welcome break for my family. For me it was nothing but pure oxygen after surfacing from a deep dive. I needed it badly because I knew I had to go for another deep dive soon after.

With the razor sharp schedules of professional commitments and the house shifting, I didn't waste whatever time I got to recreate my life, one day at a time.

Once back to Bangalore, it took a couple of days filled with 12hrs of meetings at office, followed by packing to actually shift out. It actually took another month for some sort of relaxation and sense of settlement to arrive at our new doorsteps. In spite of such fluctuations, the new house gave a lot of joy due to the cleaner locality, better safety, conveniences, and presence of lots of open soil to work upon.

Maybe it is in the genes, but there is nothing like a walk among greenery to climb over any adversities in life. What else could one ask, if there was also a piece of soil to give life to? We all enjoyed the activities involved in cleaning up the yard and setting up a working garden in a matter of couple of months. Most hard at work was my father who saw this as a replacement for our now neglected garden back home, which he severely missed while being at Bangalore.

Before

 

Once the new schedules, routines and rigours were set in place, accompanied by crazy timings at the office, .. short pause.. there was still no time to relax. It was time to take life to the next level, and preparations were afoot at office and home on the professional and personal fronts respectively.

Soon with the crab having its tummy filled with one victim and having decided to let go of another for the time being, we started having more bright days. This was in spite of the wet and bone-chilling season. We too having been hardened by the events, decided to move on. Some very old support roles were withdrawn and it was time for the real responsibles to take over without dependencies. It was time to grow up, spread the wings and jump out of the tall tree nest.

So far, so good. That's what I can say about things which are in progress, and can take years to get a proper hind sight. Rays are still in the process getting bounced around like crazy, creating reflections,refraction, mirages and sometimes even hallucinations. One shouldn't take a judgemental view at this stage of life.

I badly want to squeeze some more events in here, but the paragraph above filters out most of the content. But let me cryptically add my appreciation for myself for taking some right decisions based on some random whims, and keeping those habits alive to date.

Now I should be allowed to shift my focus to more abstract expectations for the upcoming year based on reflections of this year.

First of all, the hard events have hardened the expectations and one only needs to guide the mind into accepting new responsibilities. So those should be relatively easy to accept if pushed upon.

The next thing is that events have shown that whatever happens, there are certain things in my primary responsibility. I cannot hold any one or any event accountable for not doing what I myself expect of me. So clearly, I need to spare quite a lot of time, passion, efforts and attention to do my best in the upcoming year.

There might be some boomerangs for short cuts taken this year, but as long as the mind is ready to accept it and walk over, there is no use crying over a swollen temple.

Gonna be a fun year ahead.
15th Dec 2019

Have a couple of weeks ahead, but for me the year is actually over for some weird reason :)

A letter from Finland

Today is August 5th 2015. I am writing this from my apartment room in Leppavaara, situated in Espoo, part of Greater Helsinki. This long stay of three months is coming to an end in a couple of days, and I can't wait to get back home.

This time around I came in the right season of spring. Surprised to see blooming flowers and lush greenery everywhere, this is a welcome sight compared to the end-of-winter visit last year. The sun was shining bright from the day we came, and all the folks here are in a jolly mood.

I am happy to note that people here just adore the sun, and I realize how lucky we are back in India to have sun all around the year. But the climate in most parts of our nation isn't comparable to the mild sun of the nordic region. The hottest it can ever get in a summer is 25 centigrade. To talk about of such things back home would be nothing but blasphemy.

Nevertheless, the folks were all jolly, more places were accessible by foot and by transport, and we had a hell lot of time at hand. In my normal form, I wouldn't know the limits of my excitement. But this time, I found myself struggling to focus on many things beyond the official business I came here to attend.

My expectations based on the last year's visits couldn't have been more wrong. The conditions in Finland, and my own personal conditions last year made the stay very memorable and excruciatingly adventurous. It was almost like a vacation, minus the official business which we never allowed to be tampered with.

With just four weeks, being my first overseas journey, and freshly out from depressing events back home, I had all the enthusiasm and energy to stretch my legs onto all major corners of the frigid country.

This time around, my journey was packed into an already time deprived schedule, and with a more difficult task to accomplish. I was equally sad and excited at the beginning of the journey. What I felt could be summarized in the quote from the movie "Motorcycle Diaries" of Che Guevara: "Melancholy for what was left behind and on the other hand all the enthusiasm for entering new lands".

As with all the journeys I have done so far, it takes a while of adjustment to get the enthusiasm kicked in. When I look back now, I realize that the first couple of months were mostly lacklustre, mostly owing to being completely absorbed in official business. We of course managed to cover our weekends with some exciting journeys, but most of the time otherwise was spent addressing our official problems.

This time around, the fun was all about getting to (or rather, having to) eat stuff I cook, finding cost effective ways to find nutritious food, fight boredom and travel to major destinations, while taking care of official business. With rudimentary knowledge of how things work in Finland, and a grasp of the tongue, it took me two months to start my adventurous explorations.

The season promised outdoor activities of all kinds, and the Finns just love their outdoors. I have high respect for the Finns in this regard, and enjoyed being there in that season to see them come out of their frigid homes and enjoy like normal human beings.

I haven't quite figured out how to put out the interesting experiences out here, but I guess I have to break em up to avoid very long blogs. I could add a few pictures to save a thousand words for me. Watch out those articles soon..

sayonara

Jungle Diaries - A prologue

Memories of those days start from the initial impressions received about the entire activity from a friend. After hearing about the stories and the possibilities of volunteering for the wildlife cause, my imagination was triggered. Though I was somewhat skeptical and unsure about the whole thing at first, I decided to send in my application. At the time of submission, I was unsure if I would be selected, owing to my lack of prior experience, and I also had my tight schedules at work to deal with.

Within a few days, I was fully focused on matters at work and had forgotten all about this. Only when I received a mail notifying me to report to the Bannerghatta range, did I realize that I have been selected. But I was disappointed at having been allocated a semi urban reserve and tried hard to get in touch with the officials to get to know more about the reserve. The range officer in charge was rather welcoming and wished me to come over and have a 'nice' time. On my question as to whether any serious wildlife spotting could be done, his response was negative. I also realized that re-allocation wasn't possible without connections. So I let that idea rest.

Now, I was in a real fix. Being the first time I was attempting such an activity, I didn't want to spoil it over my higher expectations. On the other side was my manager whom I had to convince to get a week's leave from my responsibilities. After a bit of reflection, I decided to go ahead, as I knew I would enjoy it to whatever extent possible. Fortunately, my manager was supportive of the cause and asked me to prepare well and get back alive :)

Upbeat with this, and with support from friends, I started preparing for the one week stay in the earnest. It was during this time, that I noticed an NGO calling for volunteers for the same census to Bandipur National Park. I decided to try my luck and dropped my name into this list too, and to my fortune got selected through this list. Excited to be able to enter the famed tiger reserve on foot with official backing, my preparations went on with renewed vigour.

The clock ticked and finally the day was near. I had just finished 2 years at work, and after a memorable team lunch, I waved goodbye for the longest leave I had taken till then in my career.
With my bag packed with essential camouflage and equipment, I set off to Mysore, my old base for last minute acquisitions. With the help of some good friends, I got the much needed sleeping bag and binoculars as well.

Counting my lucky stars, and motivated by all the support, I set out alone early next morning, towards the jungle with high spirits, not fully knowing how my life would never be the same again.

To be continued..

Diwali musings

Lying on a dusty bench on the platform, with my eyes shut, I was trying to catch a few minutes of rest. Hardly a minute would have passed, when a loud rumbling noise woke me up, and I found a column of dust settling down on me. As I struggled to cup my eyes and mouth to prevent the dust from entering in, I caught a glance of the source of interruption.

The rumble of clanging wheels and screeching brakes turned into a cacophony of human voices as the passengers milled out of a multitude of exists - doors, windows and emergency exits as well. Rubbing my eyes, partly to clear the dust and partly to clear the sleepiness, I could see black forms of people carrying an odd assortment of bags and baskets, chattering loudly. Loud enough they were for this unearthly hour, and the language too I couldn't make out. But it sounded a bit like Odiya/Bengali and I tried to read the train's plate in the dim light. I could make out Howrah in the name and assumed these were migrants, and judging from their assorted luggage, mostly labourers.

They talked with high energy, and in my sleepy state I imagined them to be relatives coming to visit their kin working in Bangalore for the Diwali festival, but I realized I could be wrong by miles. Slowly this mass of people moved on to the railway station's exits and silence descended once again on the railway station. The cold wind had driven the passengers waiting for their trains and the vagabonds to seek refuge under their warm clothes/blankets. Many fully shrouded figures lay sprawled or hunched over the otherwise deserted railway station. Some were still moving about, mostly trying to find a good spot to keep them warm.

After a few more minutes of scanning the scene, I decided to get back to my pseudo nap. Hardly an hour had passed since the announcement was made about the train's delay and there were couple more to kill. I adjusted my backpack to get the softest parts right underneath my head and closed my eyes, telling myself to take a controlled nap. I must have dozed off for 10 minutes, before the buzz and bites of the blood suckers harrowed me out of my peaceful existence.

Unable to sleep, I lie there thinking of the exams I had and felt the tiredness grow within me. Having sent my wife ahead of me, I was supposed to write my exams and catch up with her at Chennai for out first Diwali. Suddenly, feeling the strong urge to jot down after a long time, I sat there keying with typos on my phone's notepad app. The last minute preparations, tiring journey to the exam centre, and the nerve racking exam itself. All these floated past my mind in those few minutes of reflection, slowly drawing away the tiredness.

Catching the shady figures moving around from the corner of my eye, I decided to stop the jottings and catch a final session of rest hoping not to fall into deep slumber before the train finally arrived. I was glad for this solo journey, having had taken a long break from it for over a year. Like the hundreds of life forms that take refuge in the crevice of a rock or a tree, such pockets of solitude offer much to the creative life forms within your head.

Adios.

Sunny Nights

Today is 12th June 2015, and I am writing this from my apartment in Leppavaara, Espoo, part of Greater Helsinki at 10PM local time. The beautiful summer in Finland has a horrible face at night. This I realized now.

I haven't written in a while, and I have grown fatter and lazier. Downsides of 'settling down', one could easily point out, but nevertheless one of the many new challenges I have to find my way around.

While thinking makes life dull at times, and leading it by heart is easier, meditating upon one's conditions help make dramatic changes in life, this I firmly believe in. Writing is a way of doing the same.

Stuck is the word I prefer to use to describe my condition of being on this long business trip to a land which is by far in its most beautiful form. Beautiful is a word I can use only with a fair amount of sarcasm as the long and untimely separation from loved ones and the land, makes me cringe from within.

No man can exist as an island, said some wise fellow. I realized I had been resisting the same, and probably now feel the need to lay bridges and invite generous boats to ply regularly.

This strange condition though currently places me like a Pacific island, albeit like one with titanic waves crashing on all beaches scattering and scaring all patrons to the farthest distance.

Watching the sun that never sets up here North shine brightly off the window panes till midnight can do terrible things to the mind.  The recurring dull drum beats can be a formidable foe to fight against. The mid-day heat at midnight keeps the mind twirling in memories, ideas and strange thoughts.

Having had enough with the Finnish TV programmes, and nothing else to do, I must force myself to sleep by meditation to escape the cruel games of the sun god.

together on the mountains

The cold winds blew against my face as I tried to keep the flaps of the tent intact. It was just 8pm,
but upon the Himalayas its bedtime, especially in the autumn.

After the first day of trek, we had just set up the tent besides a stream upon a hillock. I don't remember much about the landscape as we were too tired after all the excitement and exertion. Everyone was just getting warmed up and the mountains were just starting to become taller and more imposing.

After a messy dinner under the lamps( which attracted a hell lot of insects ), we decided to call it a day and get some sleep. This was the first time upon the mountains for many of us and first time in a tent for all of us. Many were getting accustomed to the weather, altitude, exertion and food and hence our group resembled more of a medical camp than anything else.

But being upon the magnificent Himalayas made me utterly happy and let me overlook the minor pains and difficulties.Even though we were tired, we all enjoyed the day's trek and looked forward to covering more distance from the second day.

I quickly wiggled into my sleeping bag, which was one off the 6 bags that now fully occupied that filled the tent. We grumbled about the uneven ground beneath which we could feel, and cracked jokes at each other for a while before those noises turned into slow snores.

I must have just drifted into slumber when I was woken up by the distinct noise of ringing bells. I sat
up startled and tried to imagine the source of the sound. The sound kept moving around the tent, and was accompanied by a strange crunching sound too. Now, I was really scared and tried to wiggle my head out of the sleeping bag in a hope to hear more clearly. It took a moment to realize that the pack horses were grazing on the meadows where the tents were put up. The wave of relief was replaced with one of panic when the horses started running amok and we feared getting trampled, as the stakes that held the tents were being pulled out by the stampede.

Then some of us started shouting and shooing the horses away, while some even got out and drove them away. The others lay inside, shivering, fearful of the horses, listening the noises outside. After maybe half an hour of the mayhem, everything went quite and the snores rose again.

The next day morning, we woke up one of the most wonderful sights in our life, and everyone had the story of the horses on their excited faces. There we were, together, the gang made of all kinds of people, clubbed into one cozy crazy gang, stepping out of our warm tents onto the icy grass and looking forward to taking on more and more adventures and lots of crazy fun.

the icy seductress

the soft gurgling noise of the icy rivulets fills the stark silence of the pitch black nights.

the silvery water keeps rolling and knocking against soft round pebbles that fill the river bed

the soft streams cradled among the rocky mountains seem to carry a strange divinity

I went to sleep every night with the same soft gurgling sound filling my ears, and the images of the clear blue water tumbling all along the rocks filling my mind before I lose myself into its magical hypnotism

dipping oneself into the hypnotic trance

I wake up each morning and walk over the icy rivulets and seat myself on the rocks by the river, often letting my limbs play with the flow of the icy waters. I kept wondering about the tiny streams flowing eternally, gracing rocks of all shapes, tumbling on and on, forming the shape of the land for huge distances, and making up the eternal cycle of life.

Clocks were seldom needed here as the river seemed tell the time in synergy with the sun and the thick mist. They together formed and dispersed all sense of time in the valley. They decide when you wake up and when you can summon enough courage to walk out of the tent. They decide when you get tired and when you get into slumber.

when ones very breathing moments are left to the mercy of the skies, the boulders around and the ever strengthening currents of the icy waters, life becomes a synchronous embodiment of the very same elements that surround us. In their company I had the strong sense of being alive as a human being again.

Left to the wild in a group of like minded and similarly witted human beings, man learns to create a sense of community and life among the forces of nature.

Felt like being close to the real purpose and sense of being human... again.. a sense of continuous rebirth :)

Image copyrights are owned by Cijo George

writing travelogues

When I look back at my five years of self reliance, I must have visited many places in my free time.  Many short and long trips, many silly and many life changing memories fill my mind when I walk down the memory lane.

And often I think of writing them alongside the various travelogues that I have penned here. But I don't think I am such a good travel writer as those I see out there for some reasons. Maybe I can't really get out of the sphere that each trip creates around me and write about it in a manner that new travellers might want to read.

Something sticks around from all these experiences in some corners of my mind and comes out at various unexpected moments, and makes me behave in ways that set me apart. So when someone recently said that experiences stretch our minds to a new level, and once you are there, there is no real coming back, I couldn't agree more. You can of course act and try to put up with the world as if you are getting along completely. But being someone else to be part of the world, however attached you are to its members, is a crime. And I am pretty sure that almost everyone is guilty of it.  While the world doesn't allow one to be what one wants to be, it does allow one to know what one wants to  be. Believe me, knowing it can make huge differences in the way one lives his/her life.

In tat manner, travelogues are a personal and spiritual guide to understanding myself and my reactions to the wonderful experiences that travel provides. I often crave to be able to sit down and note the passing thoughts and conversations in my head and those had with fellow travellers. That , according to me is a satisfactory piece of travel writing. Providing a guide to other travellers or a piece of well placed words to sooth connoisseurs comes later to my mind..

Maduraikku pogathedee..

After pacing around in the scorching heat of Madurai, I finally find myself in the temple complex of the Madurai Meenakshi Amman Kovil.

The first thing that catches my attention is the blissful ecosystem with the peepals and the neems hanging over the ever clean tiled street surrounding the  Amman Kovil. I would consider myself a criminal if I ever understated the bliss and calm around. The soothing hymns floating along keeps the air even more rhythmic.

For those with an appetite there are many options. But right now I am after the famous Jigardanda alone. Waiting for some space to be made after the heavy lunch I had at the wedding, not to forget the extra load of soft drinks and tea that I had.

The experience becomes even more blissful after couple of hours of roaming along the streets under the hot sun, carrying a sizeable bag. The heat is slowly getting on me, and sweat flows down my face but I was strolling slowly.

I had been to the Madurai Meenakshi Amman Kovil a couple of times before this, and I still had around three hours before my train back to Bangalore. Having lots of time helped me observe many things around me. The hawkers selling  a variety of colourful bangles and cosmetics passed by with their wares, and were followed by a father holding his son's hands and telling him stories while walking around the compound. I wondered how many times my father would have held my hands and took me to umpteen places telling me fake stories to prevent me from running away ;) That moment, I wished to be home, to stop roaming and sit besides him and listen to the stories that he has to tell now.

Snapping out of my emotional whirlpool after a moment, I decided to take a good look at the gopuram. I think it was the South one I visited first. After a few attempts at clicking photos, I felt like an idiot and decided to examine the art work with my eyes. Roving my eyes over the large structure made my neck pain and I decided to take in the sight at ease. So, very much unlike my usual practice to stand and walk for long hours, I decided to sit down and enjoy the marvel in front of me. Nothing else was in my mind when I was immersed in the beauty of the ancient construction. Each demon, each God, every mythical figure in it seemed to weave stories in my head as the facts about Madurai's history kept rolling into my head from some storage. I might even have had a full blown historical and artistic conversation within my head before I decided to snap out of it and tweeted the pic of the beautiful tower :)

the towering beauty

Seeing me sitting on the footsteps of a closed shop, staring at the sky, a couple of roadside palmists approached me and tried to make me take the bait by offering to predict my career, matrimonial ventures and even going as far as claiming that from my face it was clear something big was coming :) I managed to break out of their circle and walked to the next tower. On the way, I found a hand loom showroom where I decided to check out sarees for Amma and found even more beautiful ones than the ones I had bought from Pothy's a while ago. But after getting a firm scolding from Amma for overpurchasing I managed to filter only two good sarees from that shop and moved on.

I didn't find the other towers to be as imposing as the Southern one, but they were pretty good as well. I soon found myself approaching the shopping areas and bagged some Amla and also managed to down a tasty cup of Jigardanda

 before I decided that I had eaten too much and started walking in the direction of the railway station, hoping I will take a couple of hours to reach. But it so happened that the railway station was too close :(

Tired after all the walk and all the food, I dropped my bag and sat down beside the platform, tweeting and whatsapping a bit even as my phone battery threatened to die out soon. All of sudden it started raining and I had to pick up everything and move to the first platform, grumbling all the way. My eager eyes soon found a notice which read "AC waiting room. Rs.10/- per hour. Tickets available at Platform I". It was pasted outside the waiting room, and so I guessed it meant I had to take the tickets from the ticket counter and went in search of it. Phew, it was a near 10 minute tired walk to get there and after another 5 minutes in the queue, the person at the ticket counter informed me that the tickets were available at the waiting room itself. I smiled a weak smile, thanked him and trudged back.

What followed was an hour of a repacking, recharging and telling the stories to all my friends. I stayed some extra time in the AC room until the train finally arranged and I had an uneventful journey besides a fully loaded

The murukkus, paan packets, kaaracheeva packet and couple of sarees bulged my bag as I put myself to a tough sleep among the chug-chug of the railgaadi :)

sayanora

Chase the Monsoon - Season 6

Contd from.. Season 5

All the excitement and adrenalin that we had accumulated until then, vanished off our faces. I could see that the other guys also were anxious and prepared to face the music.

Some stuff remain in your memory when things turn messy dramatically. One moment you were cruising and howling at the top of your voices, drenched in cold rain, and the other, you wait for some random cop to hold you for no reason. I have had many such encounters. And I can picture even now the image of the police jeep rolling on in slow motion, with our eyes following those of the inspector in the front seat, wondering when his eyes would settle on us.

It occurred to us only after a moment that the jeep had crossed us and went on its way, the inspector probably deciding that we were not even worth his glance. Smiles reappeared on the riders' faces, and jumping on our rides, we decided to not further test our luck.

Soon we found our way out of the expressway and were gunning all ahead towards our destination - Aamchi Mumbai. The drenching was constant on the way and I guess we sort of became impervious to it. Fuelled by more tea and vada pav, we were soon rushing into the suburbs of Mumbai. The landscape changed from light green mountains to evenly shaped dirty apartments and muddy truck yards.

After a while of riding through this mess, we were close to our intended destination. We were gonna stay at a friend's place.

Well, nothing much of interest happened after that until got to his home. We got out of our really wet situation and dried our shoes while the friend's Ma came and chatted with us, scolding us for our adventures while appreciating our achievements.  Along with the hot tea, the warmth was truely felt not only on body, but also in mind. So far away from home, we felt at home. We laughed sheepishly at our follies and beamed when they spoke of our guts and maturity ;)

Soon, it was time to head out to explore Aamchi Mumbai. Mother didn't allow us to take our bikes, and for a moment we thought if we would get stuck in bus traffic. But so tired and weary of riding in the wetness we were that we couldn't disobey mother. So we headed out with our friend there. I didn't even hear where we were headed.

Soon we were on our way to the railway station. Now I started getting interested again, after the brief lull. Mumbai's local trains! The ultimate travel experience. What fools were we not to even think of it while planning our trip.

It was getting late. I was damn tired. New city, new lights, new stories. We kept chatting about so many random things, guffawing loudly, hanging out the signature style from the local train, and imagining the infinite movie bollywood scenes shot in the famous local trains. Oh, did I mention the tasty hot vada pavs we picked up from the station? :)

Got down at Victoria terminal and surveyed the scene of the terrorist attack and caught a cab to Nariman point. I remember only that my father keeps coming here for official purposes and was indeed here when the terrorist strike happened. I remember those tensed nights. After writing the blog post when the attack happened, I badly wanted to see the places. And there I was, in a completely unplanned fashion. While most of Mumbai was closed by the time we were there, Nariman point was quite crowded, thankfully.

We had nice dinner from a local restaurant there and I ordered according to some tips from Foursquare, which turned out to be perfectly accurate.

Next stop: Leopold Cafe. All the emptiness in the streets was compensated by the tightly packed crowd there. I spent some time observing the bullet holes at the entrance before catching a table. We spent quite a lot of time there eating, drinking and chatting as a another friend of the friend joined us with lots of stories and jokes. The ambience was simply awesome.

We hung around for a while afterwards clicking pictures of the places and the crowd, and then headed out via the now emptying street to the Gateway of India.

No words. Simply amazing. Picked up memories of me sitting there with my brother when I was in my 6th Std, and savoured the beauty of the lights along with the Taj and Trident in the vicinity. The Taj entrance was beautifully lit up with luxury cars moving in and out while the Arabian sea shone in the combined light of the white moon high up in the sky and the man made yellow lights all around. Sadly the sea stank and we could only accept it with shame that it was one of the beautiful spots to relax at.

Next stop: Marine Drive. It was a sensory overload by that time, as sleep started seeping into my limbs and I could feel someone switch off each section of the body. I fought it and tried to absorb the images and sounds. We sat there for a while, or rather lay there staring at the beauty of night, clicking some crazy pictures.

It took a full shower of midnight rain to wake us up from the half slumber and clamber into the next cab and we directed to Band stand or Bandra and maybe something more. I just hung on, watching the empty streets pass by as the rain hit the windshield heavily.

I guess we did a very late attempt at covering most of Mumbai and ended up being at places at very very odd times. Shah Rukh khan's Mannat looked awesome at 1 AM, and so did some more other's which I don't recall now. I just stood there absorbing it all as my final lights started going out. Next I remember is sleeping until we got back home in zombie mode.


Early next morning, we continued our wonderful love story with our bikes and the green roads, this time returning to Pune to end the lovely days and the memories we generated were just too much and we used the long ride to absorb it :)

Oh did I not mention the freak fall and the damaged bike and fleeing from the bike owner, and sleepily browsing through beautiful book shelves in Pune? :-) Those are memories for me and my comrades alone..adios reader..

Chasing the monsoon - Season 5

Morning 4 AM:- I woke up with bleary eyes, staring at an unfamiliar roof. It took me a while to figure out where I was. I could make out the outline of the apartment we were put up in Pune. I must have slept like a log for at least 3 hours. Not enough, but given the length of journey lying ahead of us, I was quite content.

Day 2 planning started after a couple of hours once the other chasers were woken up from deep slumber.

I was hungry for adventure and the first day's lengthy rides along the green mountainous roads in the rain were just recce as far as I was concerned. We set out targets for the second day:- Lohagad and Lonavala. It took lots of back and forth discussions to get the routes and schedule right. Finally, the plan was made to hit the two spots asap and head onto Mumbai for the night. I was super excited at the prospects of this plan. I haven't been to Mumbai after a very short visit while waiting for our transit flight to Kochi when I was in my sixth grade. The distance and the prospect of the wild chase entering a large crowded city was challenging, but I trusted my mates who knew Mumbai well. We were off soon, powered by the wonderful Poha, Misal pava and Idly.

Around 60kms from Pune, Lohagad has been in my sights for more than a year now. I had fallen in love with the fort just by visual appeal.

A random album in facebook, narrative by a friend, and follow up research, all that ran through my mind as we made our way through the inviting Mumbai-Pune highway gunning our engines in high spirits.

 

The regular route to Lohagad involved a decent trek. The trek promised to be mesmerizing in the monsoon, and we were already proven monsoon chasers. The image of the lush green routes dripping with fresh rainwater was too exciting to ignore. But we had a practical problem to solve. Lohagad lay right in the path to Lonavala and if we chose to trek the Lohagad, all our plans would get delayed. The distance to Lonavala and Mumbai would never get covered if we were to walk up the Lohagad. So I reluctantly agreed to the plan to 'ride through' Lohagad and move onto Lonavala. At least that is what we could come up, using Google Maps for guidance.

The route to Lohagad takes a deviation from the highway at a point and goes through Kachcha roads and villages. In spite of being an extended weekend, there didn't seem to be much of a crowd. Only children walking along the road going to school or village women carrying pots of water on their heads were visible throughout the route. We were just beginning to wonder why we were the only people on vehicles, when we almost fell into the first ditch. Technically a pothole, but practically it was a well.

We had ourselves deep in dirt when the first pothole led to many more of varying sizes and complexities. Large ditches of mud and puddles meant we crawled through slowly, trying not to fall and make a scene in front of the pretty girls walking in large groups, around and through the same puddles. Keeping our minds firmly on the road and grips on the handles, we moved slowly to the tiny waterfall on the way. I was riding the unicorn rented from a friend of Sumeet, one of the three chasers. Keeping it in control was no small matter. After the trip, I would observe significant muscle development in the region of my right forearm, all thanks to the wonderful accelerator of this unicorn.

Anyway, no sooner had we taken a few customary clicks at the crowded waterfall, the heavens opened up and the crowd of youngsters vanished under rain coats and umbrellas. I felt very jealous. While they laughed and walked up the scenic rocky routes under their raincoats,

we had an almost impossible task to ride the slick FZ and the monstrously unyielding Unicorn up the 60 degree slope that was fast turning into a river of mud through slippery rocks the size of  footballs. We stopped at a small shop to ask some locals if we could ride the bikes all the way to the top and continue to Lonavala. The local fellows in the shop made a mockery of us and asked us to take an auto. Hearing that, all our frustration turned to pure determination and we rode ahead with renewed vigour and confidence, with only the cold rain leaving no spot warm on us.

And so started the long and precarious ride. I had never in my life attempted such adventures with bikes, and never so far away with someone else's bikes. The unicorn's accelerator too didn't help in making it any easier to traverse the boulders and maneuver on the slippery mud. We made slow progress and to the amazement of the small groups of trekkers, we managed to climb most of the hill without much incidents, apart from a few times when we had to push the bikes up to avoid slipping all the way down. Then we came to this..

My heart sank on seeing it. But there was no turning back. I could in no way rely on my physical strength to push the heavy unicorn up this one. We both gave it our best to climb up the almost 75 degree mess. There were no foot holds, no even surface. Only deep sticky mud with lots of loose rocks. Even after many attempts, we found ourselves close to the foot of this small hill, bikes already covered in thick layers of mud and hot fumes emanating from the engines. Fortunately for me, a local boy came along and offered to help. He took over my bike and I resorted to supporting him by guiding and pushing from the back. Aswin did the same to the lighter FZ while Sumeet was on the saddle. Slowly, painfully, we pushed both the bikes up the 50m slope. Puffing, panting and covered in mud, we were close to exhaustion. But relieved off the mortal danger we were in, we thanked the boy and paid him Rs 100.

The road began there and all the tension and pressure of the dangerous climb were soon forgotten as we rode freely through the heavy rains, surprising many a gang of trekkers who would have been basking in the glory of having climbed that hellish path. Yes, we did the ultimate. We rode on heavy bikes through that difficult-to-climb path. Our euphoria and excitement was back. I could imagine myself as the heavy cavalry of Hannibal that traversed the impossible Alps to launch a surprise attack at the Romans. Soon we had our fort in sights, and were more than ready to unleash ourselves on it.

The trek up the steps of the Lohagad was refreshing after two days on the bike saddle. I could feel the fresh oxygen energize every cell of my body as my mind was seduced by the naked beauty of nature that was draped in the thin veils of fog that hung almost everywhere. Strategically crafted pathways, bastions, towers, large gates, all covered in slippery green moss gave an eerie feeling to the entire place.

Only the thick white fog that hung everywhere and the water that flowed down the steps reminded one that the fort was no longer operational. But standing at an isolated tower, I got goosebumps imagining being under the watchful eyes of hundreds of carefully positioned guards of Sivaji.




Needless to say, I was in love with the fort in its wintery, foggy, wet outfit. But I also wanted to love its green version and marked in my heart to revisit the fort in another season. As usual, I had to be dragged out of the fort by my mates. That was a fort we fought hard to conquer! I had to say goodbye with a heavy heart..

Soon, we were on our way to Lonavala. There wasn't much of interest there. Tiger's leap was the only point that was recommended. But the heavy rains and thick fog which had begun rolling all over the region made it inaccessible to us. We had a long way ahead and decided to skip most of the places,and apart from a beautiful waterfall we stumbled upon by the road side, we mostly focussed on riding to Aamchi Mumbai..

some costly snacks

The roads were perfect, the scenery mesmerizing and the rain kept constant companion. As I was wondering how Maharashtra manages to provide such good roads everywhere, we hit an even wider road with mind blowing quality of lanes and it smelled of international quality. I was taken aback and we riders exchanged amused glances while maintaining the bikes at top speed.

It was not until we noticed the angry stares and constant honking of trucks and cars that we stopped to think. Then it stuck us.

We were in the Mumbai-Pune expressway. Wow!!! Jackpot!! Wait.. what did that board read? "Two-Wheelers Prohibited." Shit. We realized that if caught, it would not just be a matter of paying up. Three mud covered, unkempt youngsters claiming to be engineers from Bangalore riding a rented bike from Pune with almost no papers and a Karnataka registered bike in someone else's name, speeding at 100kmph in the heavy rains on the expressway on Aug 16th would need a lot of explaining.

the illegitimate ones..

 
That was exactly when the police jeep we saw earlier came round the corner, and I thought I could see the wicked smile on the officer's face. We were screwed..

To be Continued..