good, bad n ugly.....

I saw the sun setting down on the windowpane as it turned dark at my office just in front of my desk. And it struck to me that this Saturday night I gotta date ‘manupatra” (the legal database site). It’s fun this way too, but a few things those coming back to me are the must wellagiris on the streets of Bhubaneswar with a few insane friends, to which I must confess I had gone habituated and addicted in the last 8months of stay. That was fun too; a promised beer or the REAL juices (if you remember), a plate of hot shared pakodas near or in front of the café houses challenging proudly the hot or cold coffees of its reputation. I saw it on the windowpane just like a hindi film’s flashback. Whatever, I gotta work on the matter, coz I got a matter to work on and the friend must have got some construction to erect.
Chill dude!!!! And breathe deep, we cant always crib over and letch the PAJEROS, we gotta marry them and get laid on every Saturday night to come.

However, my DSLR needs some shutter-skirt up, and I hope to be able to put my lens’s pant down soon to penetrate the choice of lights through the fallopian aperture to plant on the censor-embryo a few nice baby-moments.

goodluck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Weekend Trophy

…But even in his dying fear,
One dreadful sound could the Rover hear;
A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell,
The Devil below was ringing his knell.

And the thorough discussion on the “Inchcape Rock” ends by the Saturday late evening with two minutes’ silent grave faces looking at each others. Sigh! Then with the next blow of wind as the quiet room is hissed up by the window side little garden, we decide to catch up the sunrise at the Chandrabhaga beach; near by the Konark Sun Temple and a tempting country plus marine side drive, if you take a bifurcation before entering the Puri town.

4:30 in the morning, chasing the last hour darkness of the night we drove down towards Puri singing along with Grandpa Elliot “stand by me”. Tearing apart the dawning sky we flew down the butter smooth road. But, alas!! The sun won the battle n it rose half a way our destination. “Doesn’t matter” we uttered together the tagline of this drive set the last evening “if u don’t catch the sunrise, catch it when it sets down..” sounds quite influenced by this Mousehunt game on the Facebook, where you catch mice at any cost.

Then, at “Bata Mangala” (the famous temple en route Puri, where you pay homage before entering Puri, quite similar to today’s tollgate concept) we had the morning tea, taken fresh n red-hot outta the burning charcoals. Refreshingly hot what you may call it, when you take the first sip of the thick milk coat. Just No adulteration, showcases the purity of the countrymen. And that’s the reason you end up paying them much priceless ovations and appraisals than the little price of Rs3 for a tea.

Then the drive ends up at the “Puri Hotel” after some time, where you get nice puri-bhaji in breakfast. What a sadistic breakfast it was having puri at Puri Hotel in Puri!! Jokes apart, when you finish up with the breakfast with the complimentary rassagolas the soul inside speaks nirvana. With a deep stretched smile on your face after this conquering breakfast your walk becomes triumphant towards the sprawling Puri beach. Sitting down there for an hour in the arranged tents and chairs on the sand for just a meager cost made us think of buying the beach forever and again “Inchcape Rock’s” lines hovered around;

“The Sun in the heaven was shining gay,
All things were joyful on that day;
The sea-birds scream’d as they wheel’d round,
And there was joyaunce in their sound.”


Suddenly, burp!! The stanza stops getting repeated in the head. Ok, we gotta remove the vehicle from the parking because it was rather trespassed than parked.

And we head to the Chandrabhaga beach through Balighai village. And we missed the route to end up at the “Konark Sun Temple”. There the soul charging Guide Mr. Nayak comes to rejuvenate the otherwise ageing young souls, who narrates only in English (Coz by chance I was wearing this UNICEF Tshirt). OH MY GOD! Tremendous was the art and tremendous was the childhood memories restored with the sight of the Black Pagoda. But, the best part was Mr. Nayak who explained every rock of the temple n every position of the carved dancers. Oh! You the freaks expecting any prurient content, he answers “69; sucking licking no kids” and we were on the floor rolling like marbles. Hats off Mr. Nayak you are rightly nominated to be the president of the Sun Temple’s Guides’ Association. Even we would have voted for you.

Every bit of the carving was spicing up the right brain and raging the left one because, what we see is only the remaining dancing hall. The temple has been destroyed long back. The temple was carved to excite the otherwise war depressed Kalinga subjects taking up monk hood in large numbers, so that the population could be restored. As explained by our guide the “Lion-Elephant-Man” sculpture defines lion as power, elephant as wealth and man as spirituality or religion, which are suppressed respectively as shown. Though awesome, still I gotta find out the exact meaning.

And, the Sun Temple is over by the time the sun was exactly overhead. So we headed back to Puri again.. Ring ring ring, it’s lunch time… and when there’s a beer parlor near by and the sun is scorching while the Konark is still in discussion, then of course you should gulp one or two to boost the interpretation skills.


Accordingly, we sipped and had a great lunch at the Pantha Nivas. Post that we dived in the sea coz the weather has turned cyan blue. Then no look backs, the trip got its real taste as we added salt to ourselves. Around one hour in the water drenched, submerged, tide drifted and the bond goes more strengthened. The eyelids only uttered the unspoken trust as we were busy crying aloud our hearts out. For a day long after, we trailed back to childhood, we regained our carefree laughter.

And, finally the tagline again knocks us and we caught the sun when it was setting down; a deep saffron memorabilia it was. We drove down the route back home, but those 12 hours are engraved forever.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

and again another new year.

cry aloud, sing a song, dance in the darkness, then u find one more year u have to explore..

but wht's new in the coming year. a newborn to come, a old one to go, a couple to separate, two singles to mingle...
but tell me frankly wht the F is new about tht.

the same old stories go on, the repetition are just better and some times worse.
just end it!!! no more of these F***in emotions and demands to just to make things look alive.

good bye the old year..come again the new year.

Transformation of my Soul

Lots of time taken to write a blog-note!! Though not yet sure whether, I was in search of something extra ordinary to write about or tangled in the web of killing time. May there be thousand reasons to keep me aloof from the bolgspot but the blend of goodtime and good things never stops you expressing yourself out loud.

My first trip to Ladakh was a sudden reaction to a stretching boredom and a quick decision to not to miss such a chance in my life. Sitting in the single room of mine at Pune, after the 8th semester was just overheating my little head. And the cipher breaker Neil Satyam; a true nomad friend, gives me a call to ask about a tour to Ladakh. The unexpected reply of mine was- “Book the air-tickets for Delhi as I have no credit card, I’m reaching there tomorrow.” A friend in need is a friend indeed does the honor, rather paved the path for Ladakh. Reaching Delhi and taking a bus to Jammu the day after were never decisions, but quick successive actions only. We never asked each other, the purpose of our visit at any point of time of the journey. We just followed the signboards that said “Way to Ladakh.”

Jammu- When the bus touched Pathankot we realized, we are heading to Jammu. And before even touching Jammu, getting a splendid watermark view of the Himalayas standing tall far, just enriched our otherwise dead souls. At the entrance of Jammu the window pane of the bus broke with a blast and everyone in the bus got shit scared of a bullet shot; a divine prank. It was just an earlier crack on the glass that responded to the road jerks. Lakhanpur and then comes Jammu. It was a Sunday and the marketplace gave us a dead look. But a common friend’s presence there and a warm welcome to her family, with great food and Kawas (the local tea) all the while were like making Monalisa smile continuously. A night stay and a morning see up at the bus stop; late by few minutes and all the buses to Srinagar had left. Nothing to worry when the great journey is predestined!
Dear Jamsedji’s past endeavors worked well and we got two back seats in a TATA Sumo. The head start for Srinagar on the twisted, zigzagged, scenic-mountain roads though was pain absorbing, but soon my company; Neil fell sick (headache, vomiting sensation, numbness). Medicines of every kind he tried, from antacid to anti-mountain sickness tablets. And when nothing worked well, I got to discover “ab dabba ki nahin- ungli ki jarrorat hai” There my hakim’s knowledge worked well by making him puke at the road side. Ahem!! Our trip to Ladakh got strengthened more then onwards.

Srinagar- Kashmir- In the afternoon we touched Kashmir. Made arrangements for the next day’s trip to Leh, the capital of Ladakh and went out for a boat ride in the famous Dal Lake. The Sikara sehr (boat ride) would always be a nailed memory in my travel story. Beautiful house boats on the cold blue water of the lake is a must see for the honeymoon couples as the sun sets down.

Hurry Hurry Hurry!!!

And the trip to Leh starts in a local transport bus with the very much knowledge of a night stay, break journey at Kargil. After all some things are meant for the youth only!!! My aristocracy of holding the window seat was a statute, because of the borrowed Film SLR camera. The undue advantage I took all the while in the trip. I was the King on the chessboard of the journey and Neil was the Queen safeguarding my privileges without a question.

The bus breathes at Sonmarg for lunch on the way and I went on clicking around the viewpoint. I should have never added the following sentence to lengthen the travel story, but it’s a landmark experience over a little thing, to never ignore. As the hungry wolves dash on the lunch table and finish the delicious rice-meat treat in seconds, there comes two glass of water. Floating black and white particles in the glass can make anybody on this earth refrain from drinking the same, but heroes only come out of foolish actions. “Don’t worry have a sip, it might be the melted snow” says Neil. And both of us had the best taste of water in the whole world. It was really the melted snow of the Himalayas. And that made us drink another jug to empty.
The bus rode the stiff road through the snow blocks and snow-walls and we were getting close to the Himalayas. Came on the way the Jojila Pass, the Pagal Slide, a bad weather snowfall but we were on the move. As the sun went down we reached Kargil via Drass. Kargil was the overnight stay place. A hunt for dinner in the city till 9 O’ Clock as Neil wanted to have something vegetarian. “Dude, you should, see the nomad’s travel-dictionary before making such a trip!!!” The word “choice” is not there. So, meat and rice again for Neil. Though, he had vegetarian food in the whole journey later on. And I only know how, as a subtle hand sneaks into your mutton dish with a smile, uttering “chalta hai yaar” every time.

The next day it was from Kargil to Leh.

As you enter in the Ladakh region you tend to fall in love with the mother earth; otherwise commonly called Dust. Clay bricks and mud houses as if no fear of a rainy monster. Huge mountains of loose soil as if termites have shown their gigantic-architectural skills!!! Prayer flags all over clapping in the blissful calmness and each stone carved with a sacred hymn, even a roadside rock, tampers your soul to become a Tirthankar (traveling sage).

WELCOME TO LADAKH…

JULEH!!
I can well imagine the readers’ mindset; where is the story of Ladakh. I must apologize before I start with the Ladakh chapter, that, the description above just comes for free and I took the liberty of description as Ladakh can never be constrained by words nor can the place be colored with the wildest imagination of yours.

It is a sanctum, it’s a dream; never can be imagined without a see.

The medical advice makes a statement that you need to acclimatize (complete rest) for at least 24 hours before you start exploring the city of Leh or you might fall in the trap of Acute Mountain Sickness.
With all due regards to the above warning we made our first trip to the market of Leh just within 2 hours. Obviously the lawyers (we, being law students) couldn’t lie to the medical warning. I got a severe headache and got back to bed to have a Combiflam and a needed rest. Aur humme apna aukat patta chal gaya!!!
The next day we were desperate to explore the region at any cost. So we paid 500 for a Thunderbird and spent 100 more on the fuel and then vroom...
Tearing the Serpentine roads and the barren landscapes till the horizon, we reached the Hemis Gompa. A Beautiful Buddhist Monastery to live and let others live. Prayer wheels, Lamas and the huge idol of Sidharth; the Gautam Buddha to pray in front of, being surrounded by the air of peace; what more would one ever need except these, in this sinful human birth!!! If I had a Ferrari I would have sold that to be a monk there, alas!!
We touched the Thiksey Gompa and then the Shey palace on the way back to our guest house at Leh. I apologize again for not being able to describe the Gompas well. And I have a reason to that- it’s not a study tour, rather an exploration to liberate in the nature skew, the landscapes and to pray silently for the whole world in the Gompas of sanctity, a tour to become that innocent kid again, to forget all the wounds you scored the last day in the playground of life. The bliss of rolling down the cycle tube on the way back from the village school is there in the air of Ladakh. The feeling of getting that extra toffee from Dad is there in the mountains. And the day ends with sipping the evening lemon tea near wide windows of the guest house.

The next day it was target “Alchi Monastery”. It was a longer drive than the previous day and that brought us more biking on the extended roads. That day we realized, we were the only bikers or may be the first one of that season as only army convoys were there to accompany us through out the journey. On the way comes the Magnetic Hill, the board on the left side says “Magnetic Hill, the phenomenon that defies gravity. Park your vehicle in the box marked with white paint on road” and it says nothing more. To me that sign board was scarier than informative. Who knows what happens when you park your bike on the square mark on the road, and especially in such terrains, where crying out “Help!!” would only waste your energy. The only thing we dared was, conveyed our regards to the deity on the other side of the road and moved ahead. The sharp and blind curves bring the best biker out of you, though the Indus River running along the road makes you take a wrong turn to jump into the cool green water. That’s what I would name the “Best Last Bath”. And to control the urge to take that “Best Last Bath”, you just have to do lots of biking for some hours to reach Alchi; the best place to see some ancient Tantric Buddhist paintings and sculptures. But the Indus River still follows you there when you take a walk around the monastery. Readers who expect a historical description may take a tour themselves to alchi, and I would love to provide them with the address. And the bikers, do not miss the new road opened for Nimmu. It might make you miss the Magnetic Hill, but the returning route from Alchi must to include the new road I have mentioned about. You would just fall in love with the stiff curves, where a 350cc Bullet becomes a single geared scooter.
On the way back to Leh, we took a left to see the Phyang Monastery. One interesting thing to watch for is, as you take the left from the main road towards the Phyang Monastery, you will find the road just straight till your sight reaches. The best part about the Monastery I liked was stretching out on the steps descending down to the village colony just at the back side of the Monastery.
The next day was a rest and the day after was the all awaited biking to the Khardungla Pass; the Highest Motorable Road in the world. It situate at 18,380 feet from the sea level, so the temperature is quite something in minus and the road was covered with snow after you reach 13, 500 feet. And the journey began from there only. We had seen enough of serpentine curves and blind turns, but biking on the slippery ice patches and dragging through the icy water was quite a task. Then we realized we are running out of petrol. Almost nothing seemed to be in the tank just before 7 Kilometers from the Khardungla Top. And the stand up comedy show we did was by asking the descending trucks “are we supposed to get petrol at the top?” The replies were definitely the over whelming laughs of the Ladakhi truck drivers. Whatever, when there is a will there is a way, though no fuel in your bike. We thought of to see the top and then to decide how to get back. We reached the top with our enthusiastic energy and spent some good hours there. The pleasure of having a lunch at one of the Highest Located Restaurants in the world was a great fun, though you just get a good bowl of Maggie noodles and black tea with glucose biscuits. We forgot we had to come down. But when the afternoon breeze showed its real color we came to know, we are no polar beers. We need to get back to not be 2 snowmen on the top of the mountains. Benevolence too exists in the extreme conditions and the kind Thapa; Army personnel provided us some 200ml petrol. And that was the magic potion for us. We drove through the lonely roads as every vehicle had crossed the Satpula gate already. We chased a storm and captured it through the lens. And We touched Leh alive. We breathed again.

The next day we went to Chonglumser village, a place for Tibetan refugees. Visiting the Tibetan School and being friends of those little kids taught us something, which we will keep close to our hearts always. The city of Leh and the little kids of the school are the reasons; you would see me with more about Ladakh every year. I am sure, I may remain aloof from life through out, but once a year I will migrate to Ladakh for a few days to learn life from those little kids. And I promise a real good time, if you flock with me, and think you belong to my genre.

---WORDS engraved---

and goes the days of regression,
shadows of redemption and the kicks of agonies,
may come whatever,may whoever watch my walk shall only see I'm the big deal...
yes, the tattoo on your shoulder would narrate my triumphant sonnet and barbarous dexterity,
ahead only the road is open,
th only lane of glory is awoke,
the war is on to draw, I'm the conqueror and I'm the knight.

Catharsis

quite something taken to come out of the cloak...

...yet simpler than holding the thorns of roses,
and peaceful than the keeping of disguised contents..

i took a bow though and i had the premonition so...
matter not, the end of the sanctity, but the raise of final toast... huh!!!

after drunk divinity

clear spirits of whisky and shapeless smokes from the tobacco sticks, a purification on the verge.

sinking in thoughts and swimming back to the banks of illogical islands, a scrimption of dodge.

i call you out oh! beloved peril to sing around the serpentine swirl.

i kiss though in the musk of air, don't kiss me back in twisted despair.

the night is gone and the drooling is lost,

what's left is the hangover's thrust.

the head is heavy the heart is so,

still things of logic are far to go.

blank head, numb head, nothing inside,

i love to drink for this day after suicide.