It was his first trip to the beach,
He had felt the sand in between his little toes.
At first he was fearful of the waves,
But had just gathered courage to get close.
He couldn’t let this wonderful day end
Just because of some fading light.
Little though he was in body,
His heart was full of fight.
‘If I cannot stay here any longer,
Then the beach must come with me.
I will carry home all the sand, the water,
And create at home my own little sea.’
He then got down to work,
And began collecting the grains of sand,
But each time he closed his fist,
The grains just slipped out of his tiny hand.
He tried again and again
The same thing seemed to happen,
Still the falling grains of sand,
Couldn’t his little heart dampen.
For there was the matter of the ocean,
Immensely beautiful and serenely calm.
Surely it wouldn’t matter,
If he borrowed a little sea in his palm.
So he battled the waves,
The mighty ocean against his little feet.
But gracious as the ocean was in allowing him in,
Their thoughts did not seem to meet.
Each time he would fill his fist with ocean,
And each time it would come out dry.
With failure, his heart finally gave way,
And as his anguish increased, he began to cry.
His mother not once intervened,
She knew with love he would be fine,
And he would forever cherish,
The lesson taught by the sands of time.
Those tears would teach him
Something that he had to know.
That when you love something dearly,
You also need to learn to let go.
-Pranay Rao
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
First trip to Apple country via palace town and back
After getting in some work at dharamshala, we headed out to Mandi. Mandi, the land of palaces is most beautiful. Most amazing is Indra market which is a 2 level market above which is the road and in the centre is the garden which has a clock tower. Mandi has this annual gathering which sees big bollywood/Hollywood stars perform there. Unfortunately for us there was no performance for us to see. Just some palaces, prominent among being the Rajmahal palace which is a hotel now. Wining n dining Maharajah style was pretty cool.
We then headed out to Kullu via Palampur which has some amazing tea estates and there’s also the Lama college along the way which provides this most enchanting view, all captured in my photo album.
The road from Mandi to Kullu is very beautiful. Along the path flows the Beas which originates in Manali. Kullu involved a lot of work though we did visit Manali which is part of our market. Manali is situated about 2000 mtrs above sea level which means it snows here in winter something I really want to experience.
The tour ended with a trip to Ludhiana and a stay at Fortune Klassik, which was pretty fundoo. It also had me hitting the gym after ages. Felt great. The trip to Ludhiana was via Chandigarh, which meant a visit to the cellar, which is a nice little pub. There was also breakfast at CCD, something I’m desperately missing in North himachal. I also visited Friends Dhaba which had these butter rotis which were very different. Unlike the normal butter rotis which have a dab of butter in between the Roti. These Rotis had a little roti with a huge slab of butter in between. On top of it each dish had an equally large slab of butter on it. Sinful, you bet. It took me all of 5 minutes to clean the roti of all the butter. I’m rally not a health freak, but that much butter no way.
Then back to Jammu where there is loads to work to do, and of course the wait for a Sunday to myself.
States visited this month: J&K, Punjab, Haryana, HP, Maharashtra, Delhi and Cgarh (UT).
A long interesting and fun tour
Luv,
P.R.
We then headed out to Kullu via Palampur which has some amazing tea estates and there’s also the Lama college along the way which provides this most enchanting view, all captured in my photo album.
The road from Mandi to Kullu is very beautiful. Along the path flows the Beas which originates in Manali. Kullu involved a lot of work though we did visit Manali which is part of our market. Manali is situated about 2000 mtrs above sea level which means it snows here in winter something I really want to experience.
The tour ended with a trip to Ludhiana and a stay at Fortune Klassik, which was pretty fundoo. It also had me hitting the gym after ages. Felt great. The trip to Ludhiana was via Chandigarh, which meant a visit to the cellar, which is a nice little pub. There was also breakfast at CCD, something I’m desperately missing in North himachal. I also visited Friends Dhaba which had these butter rotis which were very different. Unlike the normal butter rotis which have a dab of butter in between the Roti. These Rotis had a little roti with a huge slab of butter in between. On top of it each dish had an equally large slab of butter on it. Sinful, you bet. It took me all of 5 minutes to clean the roti of all the butter. I’m rally not a health freak, but that much butter no way.
Then back to Jammu where there is loads to work to do, and of course the wait for a Sunday to myself.
States visited this month: J&K, Punjab, Haryana, HP, Maharashtra, Delhi and Cgarh (UT).
A long interesting and fun tour
Luv,
P.R.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Home
2 years at K and I never missed my home as much as I was now (ok probably in the first sem). Mumbai too had high security but really leaving an airport is easier than getting into one. I had firmly told my father not to come to the airport since I could easily make it home by rickshaw. The rickshaw guys tried quoting exorbitant rates. The fun was when a guy tried explaining how far my destination was from the airport. I really wanted to laugh out loud. Finally after some negotiation and them realizing I was from Mbai I got into a rick and made my way back home.
Going from HP directly to Mumbai via a very deserted Delhi meant that suddenly I began noticing how crowded Mumbai really is. The roads too seemed to be in a real bad state. I always thought that no one could do anything about rains affecting the state of roads but Himachal has given me a new perspective. If most roads in Himachal frequently being lashed by heavy rains/snow can be kept in a decent state, I do believe Mumbai can do a better job.
Anyway I reached home to find a very happy and highly emotional set of parents. Home is where the heart is in more ways than one.
The thirteenth day ceremony was an occasion to meet all my relatives who seemed quite happy that I could make it. It was also my opportunity to pay my last respects to my granny.
The Mumbai journey also had me meeting up with Addy n Rajan who are now in Mumbai and also some other friends. Now I was to head back to Kangra, the same way I came
The journey back was uneventful, except for security checks and dad booking me into spicejet instead of jet. So instead of a good lunch I had to make do with cookies. I met my cousin Gaurav Bhaiya who was sweet enuff to pick me at the airport. We then visited some Chinese eatery n then headed to his home where I came face to face with his pet boxer who luvs lickin peoples faces. So after a very drooly afternoon I headed back to ISBT n then back to Dharamshala.
Nothing beats home cooking,
Luv,
Pranay
Going from HP directly to Mumbai via a very deserted Delhi meant that suddenly I began noticing how crowded Mumbai really is. The roads too seemed to be in a real bad state. I always thought that no one could do anything about rains affecting the state of roads but Himachal has given me a new perspective. If most roads in Himachal frequently being lashed by heavy rains/snow can be kept in a decent state, I do believe Mumbai can do a better job.
Anyway I reached home to find a very happy and highly emotional set of parents. Home is where the heart is in more ways than one.
The thirteenth day ceremony was an occasion to meet all my relatives who seemed quite happy that I could make it. It was also my opportunity to pay my last respects to my granny.
The Mumbai journey also had me meeting up with Addy n Rajan who are now in Mumbai and also some other friends. Now I was to head back to Kangra, the same way I came
The journey back was uneventful, except for security checks and dad booking me into spicejet instead of jet. So instead of a good lunch I had to make do with cookies. I met my cousin Gaurav Bhaiya who was sweet enuff to pick me at the airport. We then visited some Chinese eatery n then headed to his home where I came face to face with his pet boxer who luvs lickin peoples faces. So after a very drooly afternoon I headed back to ISBT n then back to Dharamshala.
Nothing beats home cooking,
Luv,
Pranay
Monday, August 14, 2006
Travelling in times of strife
‘Red alert in Delhi’ screamed the news when I actually saw it. By then my mother had already phoned me trying to dissuade me from travelling on 13th. 13th to 16th , the intelligence said was when the terrorists would strike in India. It took selling of the highest degree to convince maa. The clincher was that we were anyway going to have a branch picnic in Jammu on 15th which I would have to go to if I didn’t fly home. Airports wouldn’t be any less safer than Jammu that day.
So I reached Dshala bus stand to find that in the absence of the bridge we would be taken to Ranital along a diff route involving a 2 hr detour which really cut the time to reach the airport fine. I hopped into the hp transport bus dreading 2 hours of back breaking travel when I was joined by a most interesting lady.
An interesting lady as per my definition is any lady who looks/seems/is intelligent/nice and who is someone you look forward to talk to/interact with. As a rule I’ve always taken loads of time to talk to an interesting lady, since I really find them attractive which means I’m really not in control of the situation, which I don’t like. Of course there are also people I stay away from because I really don’t like them and those I really don’t feel like making the effort to interact with.
However I’ve lately made it a point to talk to the interesting ladies I meet. Polite enquiry resulted in me finding out that she was from yeole (yule) cantonement. Further enquiry confirmed that she was an army officer. To which my reply was cool. ‘Coool’, by now you realize why I stay away from interesting ladies. Anyway she seemed unaffected by my response and we chatted away till Ranital where we moved to our respective seats. The lady is from Belgaum and speaks Marathi. We were quite tickled to find the family ahead of us conversing in Marathi. We could understand each word of the mother scolding her kids :).
The Volvo journey was pretty cool and the seats were quite comfy. After a late late dinner, I was in dreamland. The bus trip to Ranital had taken about two hours and the journey thereon took about 9 hours. We finally reached ISBT early in the morning. I had to book tickets for the journey back (something I should have done at Dshala) and so ventured into the bus station. Jammu station at the end of my first tour had all these announcements about not touching any unidentified bag since it could be explosives. Delhi bus station had such similar warnings and seemed a little empty. This being my first visit to ISBT, I really had no reference with respect to the crowds there, but I really expected more of a rush. Delhi being on red alert meant that there were metal detectors at each entrance. All the technology in my bags soon had the detectors beeping like mad but to my surprise the guard let me proceed. I hope it was general profiling and not random checks because the family ahead of me was given one thorough checking. Anyway thankfully tickets for the trip back were easily available.
Work done, I hurried out to catch a Rick to the airport. I was booked on a Kingfisher flight which was scheduled for noon, however the news said that there were extra checks in place. Prasanna had called up and warned me about not carrying any liquids inflight. People were not even allowed to carry their medication in their hand baggage w/o a prescription.
The Rickshaw guy gave me a complete brief on security at Delhi. Telling me where security was, where not, how one could get through high security areas by bribing the right people. Suddenly Delhi at that time seemed really unsafe. The empty roads added to the effect. This trip was turning out to be quite the adventure.
I got off at the airport and was let in as usual w/o any major check. I was frankly too sleepy to take care of my luggage but security regulations that day didn’t allow the Kf people to keep my luggage. I anyway decided to get my backpack scanned. What ensued was very weird considering the security for the day. They sealed my backpack with the plastic strip thingy but did not secure the zips or the pouches and after the security check I was allowed to carry the bag back into the unsecure area. On top of it, it was really easy to open my bag and take out (or add) anything. Since security is really not my expertise, I decided I might as well take a nap. So lappy as my pillow and backpack by my side I was soon in dreamland. My cellphone had discharged, while both my watches conked off in the weather conditions I have been through. So I kept getting up to check the time.
It was just close to check in time that I remembered that dad had told me to get in touch with his cousin and family. So I phoned Govardhan uncle and Gaurav Bhaiya. They both seemed a little surprised that I hadn’t contacted them as soon as I reached Delhi. I had thought of it but the empty bus stand and the emptier roads had kept me from doing so. I really didn’t want them to venture out on such a day.
There was another security check before check in (something generally done only for J&K flights. All liquids in handbags were confiscated. Many women were not too happy seeing their lip gloss and foundation creams being taken away :). I didn’t see anybody fighting too keep their essential medicines so I hope they were allowed to keep it. I on my part always keep medication for my glaucoma handy but had it firmly packed in my backpack. I really didn’t expect to need it on such a small flight but found it really stupid that terror was forcing all of us to live in such fear. I must say everyone was most accommodating, though as usual I was allowed to carry my bag through w/o a second check :). Profiling is cool.
One of the weirdest experiences I had on this trip was when after the security check, I was trying to access wi-fi at the airport. The flyers that day mostly considered of foreigners, prominent among them a Japanese delegation who had their introductory session at the airport and an English group (their accent seemed propah). I was sitting on a chair trying hard to get my settings in place (I had disabled my Wi-fi card) when I suddenly felt a flash and a click. I turned to find one of the English ladies clicking my picture quite happily. All through this tour I had seen so many Indian tourists trying to click pictures with/of foreigners, I guess this was revenge :D or probably it was just amazement at seeing a modern Indian sitting laptop in hand at a modern airport terminal. Nothing dispels pre conceived notions better than finding out for yourself. Anyway I was too amazed to react and for once was at a loss for words.
The KF journey was nice thanks to the inflight entertainment system which had trance music which I plugged into and was soon asleep.
Mumbai, here I come
Luv,
Pranay
‘Red alert in Delhi’ screamed the news when I actually saw it. By then my mother had already phoned me trying to dissuade me from travelling on 13th. 13th to 16th , the intelligence said was when the terrorists would strike in India. It took selling of the highest degree to convince maa. The clincher was that we were anyway going to have a branch picnic in Jammu on 15th which I would have to go to if I didn’t fly home. Airports wouldn’t be any less safer than Jammu that day.
So I reached Dshala bus stand to find that in the absence of the bridge we would be taken to Ranital along a diff route involving a 2 hr detour which really cut the time to reach the airport fine. I hopped into the hp transport bus dreading 2 hours of back breaking travel when I was joined by a most interesting lady.
An interesting lady as per my definition is any lady who looks/seems/is intelligent/nice and who is someone you look forward to talk to/interact with. As a rule I’ve always taken loads of time to talk to an interesting lady, since I really find them attractive which means I’m really not in control of the situation, which I don’t like. Of course there are also people I stay away from because I really don’t like them and those I really don’t feel like making the effort to interact with.
However I’ve lately made it a point to talk to the interesting ladies I meet. Polite enquiry resulted in me finding out that she was from yeole (yule) cantonement. Further enquiry confirmed that she was an army officer. To which my reply was cool. ‘Coool’, by now you realize why I stay away from interesting ladies. Anyway she seemed unaffected by my response and we chatted away till Ranital where we moved to our respective seats. The lady is from Belgaum and speaks Marathi. We were quite tickled to find the family ahead of us conversing in Marathi. We could understand each word of the mother scolding her kids :).
The Volvo journey was pretty cool and the seats were quite comfy. After a late late dinner, I was in dreamland. The bus trip to Ranital had taken about two hours and the journey thereon took about 9 hours. We finally reached ISBT early in the morning. I had to book tickets for the journey back (something I should have done at Dshala) and so ventured into the bus station. Jammu station at the end of my first tour had all these announcements about not touching any unidentified bag since it could be explosives. Delhi bus station had such similar warnings and seemed a little empty. This being my first visit to ISBT, I really had no reference with respect to the crowds there, but I really expected more of a rush. Delhi being on red alert meant that there were metal detectors at each entrance. All the technology in my bags soon had the detectors beeping like mad but to my surprise the guard let me proceed. I hope it was general profiling and not random checks because the family ahead of me was given one thorough checking. Anyway thankfully tickets for the trip back were easily available.
Work done, I hurried out to catch a Rick to the airport. I was booked on a Kingfisher flight which was scheduled for noon, however the news said that there were extra checks in place. Prasanna had called up and warned me about not carrying any liquids inflight. People were not even allowed to carry their medication in their hand baggage w/o a prescription.
The Rickshaw guy gave me a complete brief on security at Delhi. Telling me where security was, where not, how one could get through high security areas by bribing the right people. Suddenly Delhi at that time seemed really unsafe. The empty roads added to the effect. This trip was turning out to be quite the adventure.
I got off at the airport and was let in as usual w/o any major check. I was frankly too sleepy to take care of my luggage but security regulations that day didn’t allow the Kf people to keep my luggage. I anyway decided to get my backpack scanned. What ensued was very weird considering the security for the day. They sealed my backpack with the plastic strip thingy but did not secure the zips or the pouches and after the security check I was allowed to carry the bag back into the unsecure area. On top of it, it was really easy to open my bag and take out (or add) anything. Since security is really not my expertise, I decided I might as well take a nap. So lappy as my pillow and backpack by my side I was soon in dreamland. My cellphone had discharged, while both my watches conked off in the weather conditions I have been through. So I kept getting up to check the time.
It was just close to check in time that I remembered that dad had told me to get in touch with his cousin and family. So I phoned Govardhan uncle and Gaurav Bhaiya. They both seemed a little surprised that I hadn’t contacted them as soon as I reached Delhi. I had thought of it but the empty bus stand and the emptier roads had kept me from doing so. I really didn’t want them to venture out on such a day.
There was another security check before check in (something generally done only for J&K flights. All liquids in handbags were confiscated. Many women were not too happy seeing their lip gloss and foundation creams being taken away :). I didn’t see anybody fighting too keep their essential medicines so I hope they were allowed to keep it. I on my part always keep medication for my glaucoma handy but had it firmly packed in my backpack. I really didn’t expect to need it on such a small flight but found it really stupid that terror was forcing all of us to live in such fear. I must say everyone was most accommodating, though as usual I was allowed to carry my bag through w/o a second check :). Profiling is cool.
One of the weirdest experiences I had on this trip was when after the security check, I was trying to access wi-fi at the airport. The flyers that day mostly considered of foreigners, prominent among them a Japanese delegation who had their introductory session at the airport and an English group (their accent seemed propah). I was sitting on a chair trying hard to get my settings in place (I had disabled my Wi-fi card) when I suddenly felt a flash and a click. I turned to find one of the English ladies clicking my picture quite happily. All through this tour I had seen so many Indian tourists trying to click pictures with/of foreigners, I guess this was revenge :D or probably it was just amazement at seeing a modern Indian sitting laptop in hand at a modern airport terminal. Nothing dispels pre conceived notions better than finding out for yourself. Anyway I was too amazed to react and for once was at a loss for words.
The KF journey was nice thanks to the inflight entertainment system which had trance music which I plugged into and was soon asleep.
Mumbai, here I come
Luv,
Pranay
Sunday, August 13, 2006
I enter unchartered territories
My second tour had me travelling with Ashish Modi, who is more experienced than Ramit but much quiter. I was supposed to head out a day early and go directly to Mandi, but was dissuaded from the plan since I was relatively new to HP and it was Rakhi which meant loads of rush.
I was supposed to reach the bus station at 9 and would have reached earlier if not for our really really dumb receptionist who took about an hour to process my bills. I really would have flown off my handle if she wasn’t so cute :). Cute girls I have been told must be treated in a different manner and I am now into following advice.
Anyway I reach around 9:40 to find Modi looking very comfortable standing at the bus stand. It is after all one of the many target areas for terrorists. Realizing that I passed through Jammu station just a week before I realize that this is getting to be a habit. The image I had of these places and the ground reality is different. No one is wasting any time looking around. It is after all part of life.
Modi tells me that we missed the direct bus but there’s nothing to worry. We’ll catch a bus to Pathankhot and then head to Kangra. The first phase of the journey is spent in me trying to find out about the places we are going to visit while Modi is busy trying to keep a tab on all the happenings in his territory. I dare to think what a Sales guy did before cellphones came. Of course life was also more peaceful, say the experienced guys.
Anyway We found a bus to Kangra which was quite empty but had no luggage racks which meant my hiking bag was placed at the entrance (I swear this info is relevant) and we were seated quite happily. ½ way to Kangra the bus had a flat which meant we had a good one hour break. The journey then continued along roads which gave some of the most amazing views ever seen. The roads in some places were narrow enough to allow only a vehicle to pass at a time. The best moment was a road which was inclined such that we looked out from the window at the river bed below. The scenery here consists of waterfalls and rock filled river-beds.
Modi seemed quite amused at me being so excited at the views. We had just passed another exciting view when I caught a conversation between the conductor and a passenger who said that he thought something fell from the bus and the conductor ignoring him. I looked for our luggage to find my bag missing. My cam, shades n everything of value was in the lappy bag with me, but all my clothes were in the missing bag. We immediately stopped the bus and I half walked – half ran a few hundred metres to see some blue object lying on the road. Thankfully the bag had picked one of the few pockets of population (actually a small tea stall) to fall. A man picked the bag and placed it next to a tree in view of the road. I ran to the tree thanked the guy and jumped back, placing the bag close to me making sure I gave the conductor a dirty look.
We then finally reached Kangra, which is known more as an important stop on the route to Dharamshala or on the route to Kulu/Manali. It has a famous temple which we promptly visited in the evening after work. I got myself a Kangra Kada which requires the wearer not to drink or eat non veg, (easy :)).
It was impossible to reach Mumbai in time for my granny’s funeral which meant that I wanted to reach Mumbai on her thirteenth day ceremony. The problem was Kangra’s inaccessibility. Reaching Delhi (the closest major airport) from Kangra would be really difficult.
We (Modi, the Dist and me) then brainstormed over lunch on how best I could reach Mumbai. Finally we decided on me taking a Volvo from Dshala to Delhi. HP’s road n/ws required that I keep ample safety time. There was also the case of a bridge having fallen at Ranital which meant an hour and a half detour. But somehow the plan fell into place. I would take an overnight bus to Delhi, catch a flight to Mbai and take the same route back.
That done I decided to get most of my market done before my trip. We headed to Dshala, which is famous for the Buddhist monastery where the Dalai Lama resides. Dharamshala is amazingly beautiful. Paucity of time meant that we planned a quick market trip which meant we would visit the monastery later.
We first headed to Bhak Sunar where we also got a glimpse of the waterfalls though we couldn’t make it to the source. We then walked along the market till suddenly it began raining heavily. We decided to take shelter under a tree which was close to a Buddhist hostel. Here we met an Israeli tourist (a computer engineer) who was planning to make a trip to Lahaul Spiti (HP’s most inaccessible district) by himself. When the rains refused to stop we turned to the building nearby and suddenly realized that we were at the gate of the monastery. Drenched and dripping water, we entered the monastery to discover a serene atmosphere full of foreign tourists. In fact most of Dharamshala seems like it isn’t India at all. We then visited the monastery. Passed the prayer wheels. I made it a point to rotate each one. What I asked for I can’t say cos prayers are really too private to share. That done we looked out to see that the rain had stopped. Circumstances had conspired to ensure that I had visited Dharamshala monastery before I go to Mumbai.
Worship for me for long was a visit to my church on Wednesdays for Novena. The Kangra trip has ensured that I visit a temple and a monastery. Religion is after all as much a part of being Indian as anything else. Where else are so many religions practised with so much freedom.
We left Dharamshala happier because of the experience, with lighter pockets because of the wine I had purchased for dad and me apprehensive because there were too many uncertainties in me reaching Mumbai. It was time to visit home after a long time.
Time to visit home,
Time to pay my respects,
-Pranay
I was supposed to reach the bus station at 9 and would have reached earlier if not for our really really dumb receptionist who took about an hour to process my bills. I really would have flown off my handle if she wasn’t so cute :). Cute girls I have been told must be treated in a different manner and I am now into following advice.
Anyway I reach around 9:40 to find Modi looking very comfortable standing at the bus stand. It is after all one of the many target areas for terrorists. Realizing that I passed through Jammu station just a week before I realize that this is getting to be a habit. The image I had of these places and the ground reality is different. No one is wasting any time looking around. It is after all part of life.
Modi tells me that we missed the direct bus but there’s nothing to worry. We’ll catch a bus to Pathankhot and then head to Kangra. The first phase of the journey is spent in me trying to find out about the places we are going to visit while Modi is busy trying to keep a tab on all the happenings in his territory. I dare to think what a Sales guy did before cellphones came. Of course life was also more peaceful, say the experienced guys.
Anyway We found a bus to Kangra which was quite empty but had no luggage racks which meant my hiking bag was placed at the entrance (I swear this info is relevant) and we were seated quite happily. ½ way to Kangra the bus had a flat which meant we had a good one hour break. The journey then continued along roads which gave some of the most amazing views ever seen. The roads in some places were narrow enough to allow only a vehicle to pass at a time. The best moment was a road which was inclined such that we looked out from the window at the river bed below. The scenery here consists of waterfalls and rock filled river-beds.
Modi seemed quite amused at me being so excited at the views. We had just passed another exciting view when I caught a conversation between the conductor and a passenger who said that he thought something fell from the bus and the conductor ignoring him. I looked for our luggage to find my bag missing. My cam, shades n everything of value was in the lappy bag with me, but all my clothes were in the missing bag. We immediately stopped the bus and I half walked – half ran a few hundred metres to see some blue object lying on the road. Thankfully the bag had picked one of the few pockets of population (actually a small tea stall) to fall. A man picked the bag and placed it next to a tree in view of the road. I ran to the tree thanked the guy and jumped back, placing the bag close to me making sure I gave the conductor a dirty look.
We then finally reached Kangra, which is known more as an important stop on the route to Dharamshala or on the route to Kulu/Manali. It has a famous temple which we promptly visited in the evening after work. I got myself a Kangra Kada which requires the wearer not to drink or eat non veg, (easy :)).
It was impossible to reach Mumbai in time for my granny’s funeral which meant that I wanted to reach Mumbai on her thirteenth day ceremony. The problem was Kangra’s inaccessibility. Reaching Delhi (the closest major airport) from Kangra would be really difficult.
We (Modi, the Dist and me) then brainstormed over lunch on how best I could reach Mumbai. Finally we decided on me taking a Volvo from Dshala to Delhi. HP’s road n/ws required that I keep ample safety time. There was also the case of a bridge having fallen at Ranital which meant an hour and a half detour. But somehow the plan fell into place. I would take an overnight bus to Delhi, catch a flight to Mbai and take the same route back.
That done I decided to get most of my market done before my trip. We headed to Dshala, which is famous for the Buddhist monastery where the Dalai Lama resides. Dharamshala is amazingly beautiful. Paucity of time meant that we planned a quick market trip which meant we would visit the monastery later.
We first headed to Bhak Sunar where we also got a glimpse of the waterfalls though we couldn’t make it to the source. We then walked along the market till suddenly it began raining heavily. We decided to take shelter under a tree which was close to a Buddhist hostel. Here we met an Israeli tourist (a computer engineer) who was planning to make a trip to Lahaul Spiti (HP’s most inaccessible district) by himself. When the rains refused to stop we turned to the building nearby and suddenly realized that we were at the gate of the monastery. Drenched and dripping water, we entered the monastery to discover a serene atmosphere full of foreign tourists. In fact most of Dharamshala seems like it isn’t India at all. We then visited the monastery. Passed the prayer wheels. I made it a point to rotate each one. What I asked for I can’t say cos prayers are really too private to share. That done we looked out to see that the rain had stopped. Circumstances had conspired to ensure that I had visited Dharamshala monastery before I go to Mumbai.
Worship for me for long was a visit to my church on Wednesdays for Novena. The Kangra trip has ensured that I visit a temple and a monastery. Religion is after all as much a part of being Indian as anything else. Where else are so many religions practised with so much freedom.
We left Dharamshala happier because of the experience, with lighter pockets because of the wine I had purchased for dad and me apprehensive because there were too many uncertainties in me reaching Mumbai. It was time to visit home after a long time.
Time to visit home,
Time to pay my respects,
-Pranay
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Rememberin Amma
My earliest memory is of every Gokulashtmi and Dusshera which would have us eating food off plaintain leaves at my granny’s place. There was the special raw mango pickle she made for us. She endured me trying to mimic her accent while speaking hindi (infact she enjoyed it). My sister broke down when she heard the news, my bil phoned me and gave me the news just as I was working on details of a contest poster. My mother was giving me updates on her health and I thought I was quite prepared, but still I felt a lump in my throat. It really seems yesterday that she blessed me when I went to visit her just before I was leaving for Cal. There is no way to reach in time for the funeral, the only hope is reaching in time for the thirteenth day.
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