North-East dream

North-East was my dream destination since last four years but trip couldn’t finalise for one reason or another. Primary reason being distance and lack of proper conveyance. Now Guwahati is not really a well maintained city. It’s hard to imagine that this is a city with an important airport and railway station. As one needs to land in to Guwahati to enter North-East. Beyond that train network is scarce and plane-network even scarcer. My first and long-standing wish was to visit Kaziranga and I thoroughly enjoyed the tiring 6 hours bus journey to be there. The forest is any wildlife enthusiast’s paradise. To be honest I have never been to such thick and heavy jungle before. Sunlight enters in patches and land is all covered with marshes. Only bad feeling was that only 10 km of area was open for tourists. For me it was like “oont ke munh mein jeera”. Rahinos are easy to spot and they are less bothered with human presence. Though they don’t look good at all, their bulky figure and mud all over, its not a nice feeling when you see them at once.

For Shillong its 3 hours journey from Guwahati via road. Yes, there are no rail tracks in any of the North-East state beyond Assam. Entire Meghalaya is spellbinding. Awfully green and true to its name, clouds hovering around everywhere. Shillong and Cherrapunjee are like twins competing for same title. It’s hard to decide which one is more beautiful. After a long time I really experienced adventure. I ran down and climbed up all the stairs for highest water fall. It’s been a very long time I did that. I always made it a point to climb stairs when I was kid. That was my self-designed test to check my own stamina. To ensure that everything is fine with my body and brain. Even when I grew up I kept this exercise going for the same reason. And will continue to do so. Only once did I get proper food that too in a dhaba at Cherrapunjee peak. Finding tasty food is difficult especially if you are a vegetarian too, it seems.

All good things come to an end!

Random Ramblings

I have always wondered how I became a wanderer. It’s not hereditary for sure, my mom’s least interested in travel, she prefers to travel up to her parents or sister’s place, apart from that travel is tiring for her. Historical monuments are a waste of space and money, according to her all forts and palaces should be converted in to habitats for beggars. I am relieved that she is not tourism minister and can never become one. Dad is not actually averse to travel but he is always short on time. We three siblings chose to differ but there too our style and philosophy is totally different.

As a kid my longest and only journey in a year used to be when I visited my parents during summer vacations. Most of the time Dad was posted in interiors where there was plenty of trees (enough to be called as jungle) and a few lakes (real ones) with clean, fresh water. Apart from that old forts, a few leopards and rumours of tigers and hell lot of snakes. I had a charm for train journey, I used to collect lots of books: Champak, Nandan sort of and enjoyed them in Train, a habit I still carry. Before every sojourn I make it a point to pack a book in my handbag. I can afford to forget my charger but not the book.

People often confuse Yaayawar’s with Tourists. A tourist travels with a purpose and his purpose is to see a particular place. Yaayawar’s are aimless wanderers, they move not because they have to see a particular place but because they want to experience it. For tourist destination matters, for Yaayawar’s journey is fascinating. Wanderers enjoy each and every moment, each and every stop in between; they have a taste for road-side dhaba. For me even my routine journey from home to office is travel. Road is good, no signal, very less traffic and its green all way along. I enjoy driving back more than driving to office (for obvious reasons). It gives one time to ponder, to analyse and to break free from routine. Many people find it strange travelling to unknown, less famous places and that too alone, of course these people are tourists, they’ll find it strange. First thing, exploring the unexplored is fun and second Yaayawar’s are not alone. Clouds, Air and Water too are wanderer. Out of five elementary signs three are Wanderers.

Temptations

There are few things which tempt me and they are beyond control. Whenever I see Yellow-green Mangoes I can’t resist. Every day we travel 25 kms from office to home and see this fatty-fruit both sides of the road. When it’s finished at home we stop at roadside and again load ourselves with it. All those health articles telling me about obesity or high calories or diabetes never made any sense as far as mangoes are concerned. The moment I see those fleshy fruits there’s an urge to hold it and bite it, it’s irresistible. You’ll hear a lot of nasty things about mangoes, they are very high in calories and for 200 gms of mango pulp consumed you are supposed to exercise for 45 min to balance those calories or maybe you have to spend whole day on salad (pure rubbish). Don’t believe them, those self-proclaimed fitness experts who know a lot about apple pie or red wine but are totally oblivious of bhutta or panaa. If only I could express in words how much I loathe those fitness gurus and their unsolicited advice. If I were allowed to ban a few things I’d definitely ban those articles and their writers. Next condemnable thing is those television adds which suggests that you can actually wash your face or take a full bath with fruits anything but eat it. Wonderful isn’t it! A mango a day keeps your skin shinning and mood brimming. If you want to be your flirting best have a mango for breakfast, first thing in the morning (try it and let me know, if it doesn’t works then you need to see a psychiatrist for sure). There is some inexplicable charm in those fleshy objects which makes it vulnerable and all for good.

More than the fruit, charm lies in stopping mid-way and taking a leisurely stroll after a mad–day. After a light shower trees are neat-green and its almost jungle all around. Yaayawars’ know this, getting down at every station where train stops for more than 5 min for a cup of Tea, jumping out of bus at any possible stop just to flex your legs, it’s a part of the journey. Fascination lies more in journey than destination. So says the Irish maverick Oscar Wilde “The very essence of romance is uncertainty, once the proposal is accepted the excitement is all over.” Time to begin a new romance.....well....you know what I mean!

Rains and Myriad Memories

Rains are exciting because they change your mood for sure. A frog who otherwise doesn’t have vocal chords turns in to a singer, though a harsh one. But that’s enough to woo his girlfriend. If it can produce such effect on a reptile think about humans. Many of us turn in to singers without any specific motivation. You really don’t need a love interest to sing, but that’s only in rains. Poets get busy with their pen, verses flow naturally with the drizzle, some of the most beautiful poems are conceived while raining, at least I considered my poems of rain-times most admirable. They were not hard-core romantic ones but still with a different sense. Earth smells like heaven, its an understatement because I don’t believe that anything can smell equal to or better than Mati ki Khushboo not even the Parijat of Heaven. I used to play football in rains, we were not fans of football but it was fun getting dirty in mud and even more fun to be punished before whole school in the assembly. I vividly remember words of our Principle “these people are football champions, they play world-cup football” pointing to our class which consisted of all boys and one girl. For us, a typical besharam breed, those words were no less than a trophy. College was even more fun, girls do have a talent of enjoying in rains, a harmony prevailed during the season, everyone used to be in jovial mood, no catfights, no arguments, no complains, all because of fine weather.

Those who love rains and want to see nature in without makeup fashion, they must visit Pachmari. Pachmari is raw beauty, no plasticity, nothing high-profile, still a virgin queen. Come rains and place becomes all the more beautiful, an extraordinary ordinariness is all around. One feels like sitting on a slippery rock with a cup of hot- ginger tea and wished time should not pass. You desire to imbibe the beauty but can’t, it touches you and just in moment slips away. Some time back schools in Pachmari used to have vacations in August and September instead of May, June. Rainfall was so heavy that water used to flood houses and schools, thus schools were open in summers and closed during rains. Walk through the mud strips, you’d slip a several times but risk is worth the peace and quiet and experience is worth bearing a few scratches and sprains. If you are lucky you can spot a Lion, but you’v got to be very lucky. If you do spot one, just stand still, no noise, no flashes, no signs of movement and if it stares at you look in to the eyes, beware, stare at it only if it looks at you, otherwise maintain the low profile, always remember he is the King.

Change..the inevitable

People change, things change, places change. I have changed a lot over the years, no one will believe it and even I don’t like to believe it but it’s a fact. Years back when I just stepped in my teens I was an enthusiastic traveller. All I would do is to look at dates...if it’s a holiday it’s for me. Never gave a second thought if tickets will be available or not, hotel booking is there or not, even friends are free or not. I used to have a black shoulder bag, big enough to engulf all my necessary items and small enough to be managed alone. Bag was always kept ready with bare minimum things in it so that if I had to leave in haste, I should not forget anything. That bag remained my companion for years along with a second hand camera whose model or make I don’t remember. I was a little above teenager and was not entitled for a brand new camera, no one in family ever had a hobby like mine and as often happens with strict moms, my love was considered frivolous by her. Things are very different now, I can’t step out until and unless my tickets are not confirmed. My experience in Kanyakumari made me to mend my ways; one can’t expect to arrange a room there if single. They gave me a reason: single person tend to commit suicide, I don’t know if that was real or just for fun. That mid December night made me mend my ways. So now everything has to be fixed before the voyage begins. No more adventures as far as planning is concerned. Poor black bag was dumped a few years back, camera is still lying unrepaired in some corner and as for me..I am trying to measure a corner.

For Old & Oldest of Friends..

याद कि जैसे धूप हुई है

एक एक सीढ़ी उतरी है

मन के सूने गलियारे में

गौराइया सी चहकी है

याद हुई है सांझ सुनहरी

चौबारे पर पसरी है

टुकड़ा टुकड़ा कतरा कतरा

मुंदरों पर सिमटी है

याद तुम्हारी खत का पुर्ज़ा

किसी ज़िल्द में छिपा हुआ

गीत, छन्द और भाव बिना

आडी तिरछी बिखरी है

याद हुई है मंद पवन सी

हौले हौले चलती है

भीतर बाहर वीरने में

किलकरी सीगूँजी है