Thoughts

STOK'ed in Leh

2018-08-15T10:58:00.000-07:00

“Chasing angels or fleeing demons, go to the mountains.”
― Jeffrey Rasley

A few months in the city and restlessness seeps in. The urge to get away from ‘it all” becomes stronger and stronger till it turns irresistible! And can there be a better place to get away than to the Himalayas – the abode of the Gods! The Himalayas don’t call. They are good in their solitude, standing tall, silent and strong. It is we who need to find our calling and follow them.
A year had passed since my last trek to the Pin Parvati valley in Himachal and it was time to go back to the Himalayas. The lure of summiting Stok Kangri at 6153 mts/20180 ft. was becoming an increasingly attractive proposition. I was excited about the fact that it would be my highest climb so far and in trekking circles it qualifies one for higher and more technical climbs. I was also thrilled about the fact that I would be in Leh for a few days before the trek for acclimatisation and Leh has always been a photographer’s delight and it was no different with me. The thought of climbing a mountain and also getting to photograph the alluring vistas even before the trek fired me up and all preparations began in earnest.

A very much underestimated peak, Stok Kangri needed intense preparations and good physical and mental fitness as well.

View from the flight

Arrival in Leh: It was a beautiful day to land in Leh with a crystal clear view of Stok Kangri. We soon learnt that we were lucky, because it had been raining for a week before this day and the weather had considerably improved that day. With a silent prayer on my lips thanking the weather gods for obliging us, I looked up at the peak we were to summit. Stok Kangri overlooks Leh from everywhere, as if a guardian keeping watch over its ward. There is no missing it. From the time, I landed in Leh, it was difficult to keep it off my mind.Wherever I went, Stok seemed to follow except my much touted Vodafone network, which seemed to have disappeared as if Vodafone didn't exist. (Only Airtel and the much maligned BSNL post paid work in Leh)

Thiksey Monastery

2 days were spent getting acclimatised by visiting monasteries, walking up to them, going to Khardung La, spending time there, and then a small acclimatisation hike up to Namgyal Tsemo, from where the entire Leh market could be seen soaking in the last rays of the setting sun.

The Pristine Stok Village

Expedition Day 1:
The expedition began from trekking point (3565 mts) in Stok Village, but not before spending a night in a home stay at Gyap-Thago. Located in serene surroundings amidst lush mustard fields and the Stok Kangri in the background, this well spent day provided the much-needed elixir before the start. Home-made thukpas, momos, salad fresh from the fields and butter tea were the highlights of this stay apart from the pristine surroundings.

Our tents at Mankorma - 1st camp

The first camp was at Mankorma located 9.5 kms away and at an altitude of 4480 mtrs. Walking at a leisurely pace, with an hours' break for lunch of steaming hot Dal Rice, some sabzi and crispy papad at Chang Ma, it took us 6 hours to reach Mankorma from Stok Village. We walked at a slow, unhurried pace and drank plenty of water (3 to 4 litres per day). This was emphasised again and again to the team by our guides and the trek leader Sumeet from GGIM (Guardian Giripremi Institute of Mountaineering) who had organised this expedition.

The trail

This climb took us on trails interspersed by rocky areas and some steep ascents which took my breath away. Soon the sparse greenery gave way to a barren landscape. The rocks and boulders forming the mountains displayed various hues of brown and magenta, depending on their content of iron, manganese and other minerals. In fact, some rocks with high iron content had the typical rusted appearance, making me coin the word 'rusted mountains'. The altitude gain that day was 915mts/3000ft, but thanks to the acclimatisation schedule in Leh most of us could make it to the camp, albeit with a bit of headache and light-headedness which settled down after a while.

Very soon, dusk ushered in darkness with a beauty of its own supplemented by countless stars and the milky way. In the confines of my tent, I slipped into my sleeping bag hearing the soothing sound of gushing waters from the nearby stream breaking the silence of the night.

“Trekking means a travelling experience with a thrilling excitement.”
― Amit Kalantri

Base camp - a riot of colors

Expedition day 2: Our next destination was the Base camp located at an altitude of 4980 meters. Located 5.5 kms from Mankorma, it took us 3 hrs to traverse this distance. Though the altitude gain wasn't as much as the previous day, but 500 meters gain in a day was sufficient for the headache to recur in many of us. We continued hydrating ourselves with the mandatory 4 litres of water per day.

The base camp is a busy place! Trekkers preparing for the summit, some reaching back after a successful summit, some taking a day's rest before their attempt, all imparted a sort of seriousness to the place. There wasn't a jovial or festive atmosphere, even though there was a colorful look to the place. A thousand questions played on my mind about my summit attempt scheduled for the next day, and I tried to allay my fears by not thinking of it. But as much as I tried I couldn't get Stok away from my thoughts. The fact that this would be my first 6000+ meter climb was throughout in my mind.

A bird's eye view from the 4G point

We went for an acclimatisation climb in the evening. This climb served another purpose too. On the top of this climb, we were able to get good network on our phones and everyone chanced this opportunity to call up and talk to their near ones. The mobiles signals were so strong here, that we christened this point as 4G point. This climb was going to be the initial part of our ascent during the summit attempt the next day.

The trail

Looking down from the top, the base camp looked very tiny, nestled in the bottom of a big bowl, lined by Gholep Kangri on one side and the Stok Kangri on the other. Looking ahead, a long winding trail showed the path for the next day.
An early 7 pm dinner followed.

Soon twilight gave way to darkness and as is in the mountains, the sky came alive with a million stars glittering.

“Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”
― Sarah Williams

The Milky way rose over the peaks and provided yet another glimpse into the vast universe.

One of the reasons I love being at night in the mountains is this magnificent sight. The clear air, absence of lights exposes the naked night sky in all its glory.

I decided to try my hand at astrophotography and brought out my tripod which I had carried all the way here in anticipation of some good pictures. I wasn’t going to let the howling mountain wind and freezing night get in the way of my plans.

Expedition day 3:

"In every walk with nature, one receives far more than one seeks"
- John Muir

That night I slept well, satisfied with the photos I had managed to click. I got up feeling fresh and rejuvenated. Tonight would be the night of redemption. After a while the apprehensions began. Will I or won’t I? Will I or won’t I?

Foremost on my mind was the sleep factor. This trek would start at 10.00 pm and we would be trekking throughout the night into the wee hours of the morning till we would summit or till we turn back mid-way. The outcome unsure, my mind loaded with a fear of the unknown, I carried out my morning activities. I developed a headache and I wasn't sure if it was the altitude, migraine or just my brain playing tricks because of my suppressed anxiety. Not wanting to take chances, I popped up my anti migraine pill as well as a painkiller. Whatever the cause the headache disappeared after 1/2 an hour and thankfully did not recur again.

This being a trekking expedition unlike a simple trek, we were to carry certain mountaineering equipment. So the rest of the morning was spent in the company of our guides and Sumeet, our trek lead who familiarised us with the various terminologies and use of equipment to be used during the summit push. We were taught the ways of wearing and using the harness, carabiners, crampons and ropes. We were roped together and made to walk for some distance to make us comfortable with these alien accessories. All these activities kept my mind preoccupied and the 'ascent anxiety' away for some time.

Post lunch instructions were to rest and sleep as much as possible. I tried my best, but could hardly manage an hour’s sleep. The tent is not a comfortable place to be in during the afternoon. Even though it is freezing cold at night, the days quite hot and the tents tend to become warm and suffocating. I had delusional plans to sleep till 7 pm and get up fresh and raring to go for the summit at 10 pm, but I could hardly sleep for an hour. By 3 pm I was bored of being in the tent and since we were blessed with a good weather and clear blue skies, I decided to kill my time doing some long exposure photography. My trek leader had strictly instructed me not to carry my DSLR for the summit. He wanted me and generally all of us to carry as less weight as possible.

I always trek in the anticipation of getting good landscape photographs, and so my DSLR is a inseparable part of my during my treks trekking. I was obviously disappointed when he refused to let me carry my camera. But on a hindsight, I realised that was a very good decision and thanked him silently for this advice as I dragged myself during the summit attempt where every gm seemed to be weighing me down.

The clock stuck 10 and we were all ready. A nervous excitement was palpable. Helmets in place, headlights on, harness with carabiner worn, crampons in backpack, 2 litres of water, 4 layers of clothing, wind proof jacket ready to be used if needed. It was 10.15 pm by the time we began our summit push. With the moon yet to rise, in the pitch-dark night, with the only light provided by our head lamps we trudged on, our band of 7 trekkers, Sherpas and our trek leader.

An hour into the trek and the moon made its way up, imparting a bit of light to the landscape. A faint outline of the peak we were to summit loomed large in front of us. The steep 1st stage done with, the 2nd stage up to the Advance base camp was a gradual incline which didn't take much of an effort. The excitement of trekking in the night probably compensated for the fatigue. Soon we reached the km long glacier. This was a tricky walk. There was hard snow

Negotiating a small crevasse at night

interspersed with a thin layer of snow below which was icy water. The trick was not to step on them and wet the shoes. It needed focus and concentration. I did well till I was almost more than half way through. A momentary lapse of concentration and crunch and splash! I stepped exactly where I wasn't supposed to, the thin layer of ice gave way and my left leg went down till my knees in the icy cold glacial water. It took my breath away for a moment. Luckily, I didn't injury myself. I took a brief halt, made sure I had no injuries and then I continued my climb hoping that my body warmth would dry the trousers and socks. I had an extra pair of socks in my back pack, but my mind wasn't willing to spend the calories needed in that effort to change them. Glacier crossing done and now was the most challenging part. Next target was to reach the ‘shoulder’. A flat area just before the final summit climb. This, would be the most challenging part of the expedition. The inclination was nearly 70°. The time to reach the shoulder would be 4 hours. We were told before the climb began that the target would be to reach the summit by 7 am. Any estimated delay in reaching the summit by 7am would result in our turning back without summiting since the melting snow with rising temperature coupled with fatigue of the night long climb as the day progressed would make the descent difficult.

“The best view comes after the hardest climb.” -Anon

The final ascent: Count 1...2...3...4...30....pause, rest, count 1...2...3...10. Start 1....2...3.... and so on and on it continued. It apparently hadn’t snowed much the previous winter here. That explained the unusual lack of snow cover at such an altitude. Opinions were divided as to walking on the snow was easier or walking on the exposed boulders as we were all doing! Some parts were sandy and small pebbles over them was making the climb slippery. 3 1/2 hours climb down and the shoulder was now visible and within reach or so I thought. A few minutes more and I would be on it. But appearance in the mountains can be deceptive. What seemed to be within a few minutes reach, took me ½ hour to reach which seemed like eternity. I heaved myself up on the shoulder and sat down. It was still dark. 2 of us had reached.

The wait

Others were on their way up. I could see their torch light moving up slowly, inching towards us. The plan now was to rope us up in 2 batches each as we began our final ascent. The final ascent was a high ridge about 400 meters high. To negotiate this narrow and exposed ridge towards the summit roping was necessary. It was cold and windy. We were tired and sleepy as well after completing almost 8 hrs of climbing and hence the need for roping.

After 15 mins rest, the rope was passed and knotted through our carabiners. The guide leading us, then me and then 2 of my co trekkers with Sumeet bringing up the rear. Fatigue had already creeped in mingling with sleep. Fortunately, I had no pain or cramps and there was enough energy left in me for the final push. But the climb in dark was taking its toll. The darkness added to the fatigue. I told myself that 800 meters were done. It was a matter of 400 more. I started thinking of all bad conditions I was in and considering my profession, there was plenty to think about. I told myself that this was a cake walk compared to what I had gone through on many previous occasions and that spurred me and I trudged on. The only thought in my mind the summit and I visualised myself standing there, nothing less, nothing more. As we reached the mid-way mark, suddenly a ray of light appeared on the horizon. It was as if a switch was turned on! This seemed to brighten the sky and along with it my mood too. No doubt, light is life. The sleep vanished. With dawn, came hope.

I stopped and turned around.

The view from the top

The vista around was too stunning. It was as if a curtain was raised, exposing a magnificent set. My steps developed a spring. The movements became quicker and the fluttering flags above came into view indicating that the top was now within reach. A few steps up and a few turns around and I was on the top with the rest of the team. A shout of joy erupted from my throat. It was 6.15 am and we had reached well within our cut off time of 7 am. We were In time to see the sun peeping out from behind the mountains. I stood next to the fluttering prayer flags removed the national flag and posed for a picture. Then took a selfie. The highest ever selfie for me at 6153 meters/20180 feet. The Karakoram range was seen in the distance.

The Summit at last!

We waited for others to join us and then took a group pic. The cold, wind and the slope made sure that we couldn't spend more than 15 mins here.

The descent begins

The descent: We began the descent back to the shoulder. Our guide told us to be alert and more careful. More casualties had taken place during descent than ascent, due to exhaustion and loss of focus after the joy of summiting. A momentary lapse and the result would be an endless plunge into the ravines. As our guide said, no summit can be called successful until you reach the base camp safe and strong. Taking precautions and keeping our emotions in check we reached the shoulder where we took a brief break to replenish our exhausted calories.

The glacier we had crossed on our way up in the dark

It would take between 3 to 4 hours to reach the base camp. The snow over the glacier had started melting making the descent slippery and tricky. Crampons came out of our bags and made the task of negotiating the glacier a bit easy. I came down marvelling at the scene around me which I couldn't see on my way up in the dark. It was time to click pics with my mobile. As I continued the descent, it seemed never ending. At last the base camp came into view. My pace quickened as I drew near. I could see a few of my co trekkers who had opted out of the trek waiting for our return. As they came towards us we shook hands, hugged each other and finally the success of summiting a 6000 + peak sank in.

It was the relentless pursuit of a heartless mountain!!

The Team!

PS :- (Definition of stoked. slang. : being in an enthusiastic or exhilarated state.)

Acknowlegment:

Dr. Sumeet Mandale, Trek Leader

Dawa Sherpa, Instructor, HMI Chief Guide

All my co trekkers who in their own way contributed for the success

GGIM, Pune who organised and provided the logistic support

Musings from Mcleodganj

2018-03-04T06:26:00.001-08:00

Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without.” ― Gautama Buddha

A refuge for the Tibetans, a place where temples jostle with monasteries, priests intermingle with the monks and locals live harmoniously with the refugees. Scores of Tibetan shops, selling everything from curios to woolens line the street here and Momos & Thupkas are a more staple diet than Achar & Paranthas.

Mcleodganj

Welcome to Mcleodganj or Upper Dharamshala, as some prefer to call it! Located 10kms further away from Dharamshala and much higher it is nestled in the lap of the Dhauladhar range, a part of the mighty Himalayas. This small hill station is no match to Shimla, Mussoorie or Ooty, but

Happy monks

manages to hold its own on the strength of its unique character, a little Tibet in India.

The presence here of His Holiness - the Dalai Lama makes it different from other Tibetan settlements elsewhere in India. Even though he wasn't in his usual abode at the time of our visit, his presence was felt everywhere whether it was in the curios shop, the restaurant or the bookshop. His photographs or books authored by him or about him seemed were omnipresent. The Buddhist monks with their unique reddish maroon robes were seen everywhere reminding us of the Dalai Lama, the Tibetan spiritual leader & symbol of their peaceful struggle for independence & even existence.

Losel dolls

Being a mini Tibet, monasteries are in abundance.
A place not to be missed for handicraft lovers is the Norbulingka Institute which is located about 4kms down from Dharamshala. An institute for Tibetan arts, we got to see first hand, the artists and weavers at work, displaying colorful Tibetan

A weaver at work

paintings, hand made cotton and woolen dresses, scarfs and carpets. It has the world’s largest collection of handmade dolls here called Losel Dolls. This is alone worth a visit. The monks construct a doll's body of wire and papier maché, and then affix cast metal hands. The heads are sculpted of fine clay, the faces painted, and hair attached. Dressed in tailored clothes of cotton, wool and silk, the doll is completed with jewelry and other accessories. The shop inside sells handmade paintings, handicrafts and dresses, which are prohibitively expensive, but justified due to their uniqueness and the efforts taken to create them.

The mouth water egg fry in the making

Mcleodganj is a haven for foodies. The Jogibara road and Temple road , especially the former, is lined by eateries serving local Himachali to Italian and everything in between including Japanese, Bhutanese & of course Tibetan cuisine. We tried every specialty on each of the day we stayed there and weren't disappointed ever. Oh yes and I forgot to mention the street food.

The taste of the humble omelette-pav at the roadside stall in the chilly morning mountain air will keep tickling my taste buds for a long time. Deep fried boiled eggs coated with a spicy masala from a tiny, easy to be missed shack was another mouth watering item which won't be forgotten easily.

Mcleodganj at night

Come dusk and the crowded streets of Mcleodganj turn into a glittering maze. The neon sign boards and lighting on the shops can give any big town street a run for money. The numerous pastry and ice cream shops made their presence felt as the lights switched on. A late evening stroll post dinner for the wonderful desserts should not be missed.

Trekking to Triund

For the adventure enthusiasts, trekking to Triund about 9kms from Mcleodganj and at an altitude of about 10000 ft. ASL, further down to Ilaka to see the snow line & then up to Indrahar pass over 3 days is an option. We trekked up to Triund, which took us about 4 hrs. one way, before the weather turned bad. The mist set in rapidly, visibility turned to just about a couple of feet, temperature dropped down to about 5°C and a hailstorm started, progressing to heavy rains lasting for about an hour forcing us to descent down to Dharamkot, about 2 kms from Mcleodganj.
Reminiscing now, sitting in my hot & humid city of Mumbai, trekking in the cold, fog covered mountains, the tall Deodars looming through the mist over us seems heavenly.

Paragliding at Billing

Billing, touted, as one of the top places for paragliding in the world is again a must-go and must do. About 45 kms from Mcleodganj, it takes about 2 hours to reach the takeoff site and then waiting all strapped up for the right wind to blow, teeth chattering partly due the cold and mostly due to nervousness, but putting on a bold front is again an experience to cherish. Flying above the birds, sometimes with them, in between the mountain peaks, rustling of the cold mountain air through my ears, as I looked at the village below, I realized what a real bird's eye view is.

Finally, being in Himachal, can temples be missed?

Jwalamukhi temple

Of course not! Himachal Pradesh, the land of temples, has them at every turn, many of them ancient, and with lovely mythological lore’s explaining there significance. We managed to visit a few. The Aghanjar Mahadev temple, near Norbulinga, where Arjuna meditated and was blessed by the boon of victory by Lord Shiva, was the first one in our list of many. The Baijnath temple near Palampur, Chamunda devi temple at Chamba, Bhagsunag temple in Mcleodganj which has a large fresh water underground spring flowing beneath it and on our way back, the Jwaladevi temple where there is an eternal flame burning since centuries, were a few that we managed to visit.

Each of these places thronged with devotees, each one entering with faith & devotion, some to thank the almighty for a wish fulfilled & others to get a wish fulfilled. As far as we were concerned, our objective was to have a spiritual experience.

The location and architecture of these ancient temples done at a time of meager technical resources always intrigues me. The sites seem to be always chosen carefully, at a height commanding panoramic views of the surroundings, the stones carved and laid with love, precise engineering bearing the brunt of multiple insults whether in the form of nature's or man's fury, making sure that they last an eternity.

As we made our way back to the airport at Chandigarh, each one of us satiated from our adventurous trip, I marvelled at our country’s diversity not only in our language & culture, but the geographical variation from place to place. India will never cease to surprise me. And so far the surprises have always been pleasant.

Revisiting the Ice Age.....a trek on the "Chadar"

2016-02-01T22:52:00.000-08:00

“The biggest adventure you can ever take is to live the life of your dreams.”
― Oprah Winfrey
I am sitting in the warm confines of my home in Mumbai as I write this. My fingers are numb, my grip on the pen not as strong as it was before. My toes are tingling at the tip. But I am unperturbed. I am in fact enjoying it. It seems like the sweet fruit of a hard labor. I have just returned from my long awaited trek on the Chadar. For the uninitiated, the Chadar is what the frozen Zanskar river in the cold mountainous desert region of Ladakh is called in winter. The high altitude and the sub-zero temperatures of the region combine to freeze in motion the fast flowing waters of this river as flows down the Zanskar gorge to meet the Indus at a place called Nimmo which is about 30km from Leh.

The Chadar is a walking route, over the frozen river, used by the locals from Zanskar to reach Leh in winter when the roads passing through the high passes are blocked by snow. This ancient route is now an exotic trek for the enthusiasts. A week back, I was one of them trudging, sliding and falling as I made my way on the frozen river surface to reach the destination at Niraak. From a trekkers perspective, this walk is not about steep inclines or declines. It is about getting acclimatised to the altitude of 11000 + ft at Leh as one flies in from Mean Sea Level and then surviving in the freezing sub-zero temperatures.

“Colder by the hour, more dead with every breath.” ― J ohn Green
The six layers of clothing on my upper body, 4 layers on my legs, the Balaclava, neck gaiter, the woollen cap over the Balaclava, the waterproof Gloves on top of the woollen Gloves, 2 to 3 layers of thick socks made sure that I survived but did not ensure comfort. Comfort was the last thing on my mind as I slid in the double sleeping bag with all my clothing layers intact including the thick outer jacket. Even an attempt to remove any one layer was unimaginable. I had nightmares of being trapped in a giant freezer. I was worried about getting up in the middle of the night to pee, I was worried about answering nature's call in the morning. Removing the hand gloves at any time in the morning or late afternoon onwards was painful to the fingers. Many times they went so numb with cold that the sensation was beyond pain. The water in the bottles turned to ice within hours. Hot flasks were the only option to keep the water liquid. The wet socks froze stiff rendering it unusable for the next day's trek. And I cursed myself for getting only 6 pairs of socks!

“When all is said and done, the weather and love are the two elements about which one can never be sure.”
― Alice Hoffman
As I write this I wonder, considering so much of discomfort, was it worth taking all the trouble? Was it worth risking my limb (I attended to a trekker who had a fall and could not straighten his elbow, probably had a fracture. I heard of someone else fracturing his rib, another one slipped into the icy cold water but was pulled out) and life for this adventurous trek? But, as I recollect the vista of the 7 days over the gorge, I feel every moment was worth the pain. One can never be certain about the weather in the mountains. This unpredictability, right from whether our flight will reach Leh or not, to whether we would start and complete the trek added to the adventure. The formation of Chadar is very much temperature dependent. A minor variation leads to its breaking down and creates a situation where proceeding ahead becomes difficult. Some trekkers finish, some turn back midway and some just cannot start. I felt many times that the river decides who will walk on her icy surface.

The Chadar keeps forming and breaking. The changes due to the melting and freezing of the water takes place in a day, sometimes even over hours. As the Zanskar roared past, turbulent over the rocks, at places it seemed frozen as if time had stood still. Occasionally the Chadar was so transparent that the river bed could be seen clearly as I walked above it. The cracks extended deep down and gave an ominous feel. At places, where the sun rays lighted the river the color manifested itself giving the turquoise waters a greenish glow. The frozen sheet of ice formed interesting patterns on the river and no two patterns were the same. The week I trekked, was the waxing phase of the moon. And moonlight made the mountains glow and the frozen river glisten rendering it a sight to die for. At places where the Chadar was not formed, we had 2 options, both providing heart-stopping moments. Either wade through the water or choose to climb the mountains and forge a new trail over the jagged rocks and steep incline. It was like choosing between the devil and the deep sea. Although at the end of a successful wade through the river or an ascent there was a sense of achievement.

Billed as one of the top 5 exotic treks in the world, Chadar trek had been on my bucket list since long. And, at last, it was completed though we could not reach our final destination of Niraak which houses a huge frozen waterfall. As I walked on the icy surface, I felt as if I was transported back in time to the Ice Age. Images of the movie 'Ice Age' kept flashing in my mind and I half expected to see Ellie - the woolly mammoth and Scrat - the squirrel just round the bend. I kept asking myself many times as I walked, "Will I repeat this trek?" And, not surprisingly the answer was "No". In spite of its breathtaking beauty, magnificent mountain ranges, the deep gorges, the crystal clear waters, the freezing cold is a big deterrent. Some things in life have to be experienced, but only once and 'The Chadar' is one of them.
“The cold cut like a many-bladed knife”
― I srael Zangwill

The less traveled Himalayas - My Bagini diary.

2015-05-28T12:37:00.002-07:00

तुम्हे चाहेंगे, तुम्हे पूजेंगे, तुम्हे अपना खुदा बनायेंगे

Nothing can be more unfortunate than not experiencing a walk in the Himalayas. The Himalayas are our heritage. They are our guardians. Looming large, rising to the heavens, we look up to them as our guardian angels. If we as Indians,in general and Hindus in particular, today have our own separate identity as a unique race, unspoiled and uncorrupted by the Western or Middle East influences, then we should attribute a large part of it to the Himalayas and the rivers flowing from it. These towering blocks of stone and ice have insulated us from changes that took place elsewhere during medieval times and to some extent protected us from the rampaging invaders from the North. Our history and our existence has been linked to these mountains and its rivers. Rivers are our lifelines whether it is the Ganga in North, Narmada in the west, Godavari and Krishna in the southwest and the raging Brahmaputra and Hooghly in the East. They are a ubiquitous part of every Indian’s life.

Our (I with my wife Sunita, daughter Trusha and son Triaaksh) journey this summer, a trek in these mighty mountains took us alongside one such river all the way to its origin. What follows below is daily account during this trek and my thoughts as we trudge through the unknown, this being the first trek of this season to the Bagini Glacier deep in the bosom of the Himalayas.

Day 1

Haridwar to Joshimath - 10 hour drive

A back breaking 10 hr. journey through winding roads and some places where roads existed only on paper. This road the NH58 is along the 5 confluences of the great river Alaknanda called the Panch Prayag, which finally meets the blue waters of Bhagirathi at Devprayag to form the holy Ganga. The others in a sequential order as we followed them up stream on our way to our starting point at Joshimath were Rudraprayag, the confluence of Mandakini with Alaknanda, Karanprayag where Pindar Ganga meets up, Nandprayag where the river Nandakini merges with Alaknanda and lastly Vishnuprayag, the meeting place of Dhauli Ganga and Alaknanda. The guesthouse named as the Nandadevi Expedition hostel made up for all the trouble endured during this ordeal. Clean, spacious rooms, hot water in the bathroom and a commanding view of the snow peaks greeted us. Over the next 5 days we will follow one of the headstreams of the Ganges, the Dhauli Ganga all the way upto the Bagini Glacier.

Day 2

Joshimath to Ruing - 2 hour drive, 2 hour trek

“The most important reason for going from one place to another is to see what's in between, and they took great pleasure in doing just that.”
― Norton Juster

Our group of 12 trekkers with our Trek leader, Gopal and 2 guides Sandip and Jaman leave at 9.30 AM after breakfast.

Swinging bridge at Jumma

The 44km drive was on roads that are regularly laid only to be swept away by repeated landslides. They twisted and turned, competing with the Dhauli Ganga as it ran alongside sometimes in a gorge more than 100 feet deep. This road, which is carved into the mountainside, ends 25 km further away at Neeti, the last town on the IndoTibet border. It's on this road that we caught a glimpse of the Nandadevi peak, near Tapovan. This was the only time that I saw it during my entire trek even though this was a trek entirely in the Nandadevi National Park.
The trek began at a village called Jumma, by crossing a swinging bridge over the Dhauli Ganga and ended within 2 hours at Ruing village located at an altitude of 8900 ft. even before I could actually get a feel of the trek.

Setting the camp at Ruing

A flat area was located, tents pitched and we spent time lazing around. It was bright and sunny with temperature hovering around 25°C. The skies were clear, but since it had been cloudy in evenings with a drizzle or two over the previous few days, an uncertainty of how long this good weather would hold prevailed.

Moon rising behind the Ruing

As the afternoon lazily turned into evening and dusk made an appearance a heavenly sight greeted us. Between the silhouettes of the peaks topped by pine trees, a halo of light appeared against the indigo blue sky. This light slowly took on the shape of a full moon brightening the sky and sprinkling moonlight all over the mountainside. The snow peaks sparkled, the river shone and it seemed as if the stars were glittering in the daytime. It was a spectacular moonrise! And it was one of those sights that stay on forever.

Day 3

Ruing to Dunagiri - 6/7 hours trek

“Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.”

It’s 5.30 AM. Yesterday ended well. I am cushioned snugly in my sleeping bag inside my tent and my 14 yr. old son, Triaaksh curled and fast asleep next to me in his. This trek is a special one for me. We, that is, my wife Sunita, our daughter Trusha and son Triaaksh are trekking together for the first time and today will be a relatively long day, an 8 km trek with an altitude gain of nearly 2000 ft. This is going to be his first real long climb. And I am a bit apprehensive; that fear of the unknown. Also it is the first batch of the season, trekking to Bagini Glacier. No one's sure of what to expect. It has been snowing heavily up there according to the recce team and we expect a thick layer of snow. My worry though, is not the snow. It’s Acute Mountain Sickness. Since the gain is quiet rapid my worry is justified, but my trek leader reassures me saying that the trek has been planned as to minimize the risk. In the mountains, weather is the key to a treks success. It’s so fickle that no one can predict it with any certainty. A clear blue sky can turn overcast within minutes. And so we begin our 3rd day by 9.30 am with a hope that all ends well today.

2PM
At last we have reached our campsite. It's on a flat land with snow peaks all around us. A gurgling stream flows by. It’s quite hot now and the sun is burning down on us. Vegetation is sparse and there is no shade. The breeze is cool but intermittent.

Campsite at Dronagiri

The climb has been an arduous one, albeit scenic, as always in the Himalayas. There were steep ascents and descents. We were trekking by the river all the time. This, river the guide says arises from the Bagini glacier, which we will be reaching after 2 more days of walk.

Today's path was interspersed with blooms of Rhododendron imparting a pink hue to the landscape, which are otherwise patches of green and the brown of the barren mountain slopes. The Hathi parvat was visible after a few steep ascents. The landscape changed as we ascended to a brown barren landslide zone. Our guide and the trek leader had warned us to walk carefully but not stop. An upward glance and I could see small and large boulders perched precariously and I hasten my steps, just pausing to click a few images. Landslides happen with an alarming frequency in these parts.

Trekking in the landslide zone

The rest of the ascent is over a rocky terrain. We spot the carcass of a Yak who probably fell down from the top on the rocky terrain while searching for greener pastures and met a painful end.
As we reach the top of the climb at around 12000ft we notice a flat land and our guide decides to pitch the tents there for the night. It took us about 4 hrs. to travel the distance of 8kms and a gain of about 2000ft.
In the distance we see the abandoned houses of Dronagiri. There's no one in the village now. The villagers migrate down to more comfortable climes during winter and are yet to return home.

Dronagiri Village

They stay there during the summer and monsoon seasons, cultivate potatoes, cabbages, tend to their cattle and once winter sets in move down to lower altitudes and the cycle continues. To get their other provisions they have to walk miles down to Joshimath and get them on mules braving the landslides, which happen very often. They have been doing this for centuries just as their ancestors did. To the question of why they continue to brave such hostile and extreme weather there is no answer. It's a continuation of the customs and rituals laid down by their forefathers, says one of our guides who has a house here. It's our land he says, the land of my ancestors, the pride evident in his eyes. These are some aspects, which are incomprehensible to a city dweller like me.

Night at Longatuli.

There is an interesting story about Lord Hanuman taking away a part of the Dronagiri Mountain in his quest for the Sanjeevani herb, which would revive Laxman after he was fatally wounded in Lanka. And that’s why it is said that the locals detested Lord Hanuman for a long time in the ancient era.

As I retire for the night, Triaaksh tells me that he had a lot of fun. That gives me immense satisfaction. For a budding teenager to enjoy being in the company of nature with the earth as his mattress and the star filled sky as his blanket leaving behind the warmth & comfort of his bed makes me feel proud of him.

Day 4
Dronagiri to Longatuli - 4kms, 12600 ft

“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees. I thought, "This is what it is to be happy.”
― Sylvia Plath

5.00AM

I wake up as usual. It's bright outside even at this hour though the sun is yet to rise. The only sound I hear is of the flowing stream near our campsite and the rustling of leaves from the sparse trees by the chilly morning breeze. The moon has disappeared behind the mountains. Our tents are the only signs of civilization. The desolate village of Dronagiri looks as if it's staring at me. I am planning to trek up to it today and visualize myself staying there for 6 months. No electricity, no phones, no television, no news. Away from all the happenings in the big bad world. This will be my world. Wake up with the sunrise, sleep at sunset, drink pure mineral water, and eat organic food, things for which we pay a ransom in the city. A wide panoramic view from my window, which no wide screen TV can match.

I am jolted out of my reverie. Its time to answer nature's call and get on with packing my rucksack, fold my sleeping bag and dismantle the tent for the day. Another destination waits us. A new route, a new campsite and a new vista!

An hours walk and we are in the village of Dronagiri where we spend some time looking at the uninhabited, dilapidated houses and marveling at the way they were built using the local materials, stone and wood. Some of the houses though have withstood the ravages of time and weather and are intact since more than a hundred years. After a couple of kms walk and we could see the Dronagiri peak.

An uphill climb of 4 kms through sparse vegetation, rocky mountains, sighting of a herd of mountain goats that scampered uphill as we approached them and an altitude gain of about 1000ft and about 4 hours later, we are at the Longatuli campsite at an altitude of 12600ft. The magnificence of the mountain hits me as soon we reached the place. I haven't seen a campsite more awe-inspiring than this. As we pitch our tents the only thing I can hear is the sound of 'WoW' from my co-trekkers. Our tent is facing the mountains and in the not so far distant I can see the peaks of Hardeval and Rishi parvat. I just have to lift up the flap of my tent and gaze out. Flowing out from the distant mountains is Dhauli Ganga just across the tents. The wide riverbed full of white and yellow stones gleaming under the overhead sun, rivulets branching out and coalescing lower down as one. A few meters up the campsite multiple ponds have formed between the stones.

The clear stream feeding them from top, overflowing and then cascading down to another pool a bit lower. Sunita and I walk up to enticing place and find it mesmerizing, so we spend some time sitting on the rocks, our tired feet getting rejuvenated in the cold, flowing waters and gazing at the snow peaks, hearing the gurgling stream. Lunch is delayed today, but it hardly matters. The beauty of our surroundings satiates us.

Tomorrow is going to be the summit day and we will be attempting to reach the Bagini Glacier and the advance Bagini camp at an altitude of 14800 feet. We plan to start at 5AM and need to get up early. After an early dinner we all retire to our tents.

Day 5

Longatuli to Bagini - 6 kms 14800ft

“One never stops climbing, Julie, unless he wants to stop and vegetate. There’s always something just ahead.”

I get up at 4 am today as instructed by out team leader and waking up Triaaksh who refuses to get up. We are starting at 5am today to reach the Bagini glacier from where the Dhauli Ganga begins. It is biting cold and the wind isn’t making things easy. I have worn all the woolens I have and my gloves and yet I am shivering. There is a campfire burning, lit up by our Nepali porters and I stand next to it trying to soak in the warmth as I eat the Dhalia for breakfast. The sky is deep blue and the moon clearly visible between the clouds and about to set behind the mountains. The sun hasn’t risen yet. The snow peaks are glowing in the fading moonlight and the faint light of dawn.

As we proceed, towards the glacier, the trail of stones and boulders marked at places by craines, gives way to moraines. We tread over the Moraines’ carefully. A slip on these and the ankle's sure to twist. Moraine is a new terminology for me. In simple words it means ‘an accumulation of earth and stones carried and finally deposited by a glacier’.

The daylight is streaming through. The chill has subsided. The warmth is seeping into my body as I ascend slowly. The air has become rarified. My altimeter shows 13800 feet. A heavy silence hangs in the air now. The streams formed by the melting glacier ice are narrow and seem tamed. They do not rumble and roar here, perhaps out of deference to their creator. The only sound I hear is that of of my own heavy breathing. I am feeling a bit lightheaded. The Altimeter shows 14100 ft.
My breathing quickens trying to suck in as much Oxygen out of the rarefied mountain air, but I am comfortable. Trusha is walking alongside. I glance behind to see Triaaksh and Sunita following us. They both seem to be doing well. We are walking on the snow now, the feet sinking into the snow at places softened by the early morning sun.
And then we come across rows of stones placed on the flat snow filled surface and our guide declares that we have reached the Bagini base camp 1.

I look around and see the wide glaciers. It was an astounding site to see the origin of the Dhauli Ganga that we had been following so far. I was surrounded by some of the towering Himalayan peaks, some of them amongst the tallest in India. The Harideval, Rishi, Garud, Kalanka were all visible and seemed to be just at a hand shaking distance. And as many have felt it, I felt small and insignificant. Words failed me. A few of our fellow trekkers proceeded further for another 2km to the Advance Base Camp in the hope of sighting the Changbang peak. The 4 of us decided to rest and wait for them to return. I wanted to soak in as much of the view as possible, savor each moment and embed it deep in my mind.

After about an hour and half when the others returned, we had a delicious lunch of Paranthas and Alu sabzi and decided to return to Longatuli.
We were fortunate to be blessed with a good weather so far. As we made our way back descending thru the snow and the moraines, dark clouds gathered overhead. In a matter of minutes the sky had become overcast and it threatened to rain. A cold wind started blowing and a few drops of rain fell on me. I hurried down and managed to reach the campsite without taking a break, but completely exhausted.

An hour later, the skies started clearing and far in the horizon as the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the departing clouds tinted orange made a wonderful pattern.
Even though each and every part of my lower body was stiff and crying with pain it was a satisfactory end to an amazing day. More so as Triaaksh and Trusha both had managed to complete the trek and finish strong.

“There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.”
― Paulo Coelho

Acknowledgements and gratitude

Trek The Himalayas
Team Leader - Gopal Krishna
Guides - Sandip & Jaman
Co trekkers - Abhimanyu, Amit, Ashutosh, Manoj, Saurav, Seva, Tapas and Vishi who all contributed in their own way for the success of this wonderful trek.

The First Rays

2015-03-27T12:35:00.000-07:00

The mountains tell us their story and help us create ours.

It’s been 2 weeks since I have returned from my trek to Sandakphu /Phalut in Darjeeling district of WB. I can still visualize the spectacle of Kanchenjunga getting lit by the first rays of the rising sun. It simply refuses to fade away in the midst of the hustle, bustle of my beloved Mumbai. And in the cacophony of this city, I can still hear the sound of the wind rustling through my ears as I stand on top of the mountain watching the clouds beneath me getting colored red by the setting sun. The mountains are beckoning again!

This was my 2nd high altitude trek after the Kashmir GLT in July last year. And this was an unplanned trek! A last minute change of plans as the ‘Chadar trek’ for which I had originally planned was cancelled due to a landslide in that region. I had booked this trek with mixed feelings. With the images of Kashmir GLT still fresh in my mind, and the disappointment of Chadar trek cancellation, Sandakphu, to me seemed a poor replacement. Going through the reviews, as a routine pre booking preparation, trekking to Sandakphu in the month of March didn’t seem a good idea. It seemed a bit late to get the snow covered slopes, a tad too early to see the Rhododendrons in full bloom and not the right time to see the Kanchenjunga range, as the skies were expected be foggy at this time. We all these doubts in mind, I flew out of Mumbai unsure of what to expect in the coming days.

A motley group of 19 with the very able team leader Soumya Mitra and guide Chorten Sherpa took off brimming with enthusiasm from Maneybhajang in WB, which is about 4 hours drive from Bagdogra airport/NJP rly station. It was a misty morning. The surrounding hillside enveloped in a thick layer of fog which seemed to worsen as we ascended up through the dense and tall pine trees and forests of Rhododendron. Visibility was just a few feet as we trudged on. Some trees were in full bloom, and occasionally the rocky path was strewn with fallen bright red flowers.

We gained about 3000 ft. walking about 11 kms that day to reach Tonglu, the site of our 1st camp. As all trekkers will testify, there is no sight more relaxing and invigorating than that of the tents after a strenuous uphill trek.

“How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains!” ― John Muir

At Tonglu, it was windy & misty when we reached. The sun was nowhere in sight, but as dusk set in the skies seemed to clear. The wind seemed intent on blowing the mist away and reveal the mountain ranges, which had been elusive so far. Darkness welcomed a sky full of twinkling of stars. It was a magnificent display of the beauty of our universe. The moon was yet to rise and in the pitch-dark night, each and every star in the milky seemed to watch me from the skies. I slept that night praying for a clear weather the next morning.

Providence seemed to have smiled on me in the morning. The sun rose to an absolutely brilliant dawn & I couldn't have asked for more... I haven’t seen a dawn more beautiful as sun made its way out gently through a thick layer of cloud. The distant snow peaks of Kanchenjunga shone in the morning rays. It seemed that she finally had decided to lift off her veil and reveal herself and her surrounding peaks of Kumbakaran, Kabru and Pandim, which together form what the Buddhists in India and Nepal term as the 'Sleeping Buddha'. My prayers seemed to have been answered. I remembered reading a Nepali quote about Mount Everest or ‘Sagarmatha’ as they call her. “You do not summit the Sagarmatha, she lets you summit her” Similarly after my seeing the heavenly Kanchenjunga I felt ”one does not see the Kanchenjunga, she lets you see her”

The second day of the trek was a 13 km walk from Tonglu to Kalpokhri through the Singalila National park. It wasn't much of a gain in altitude but a descent to Gairibas and then an ascent to Kalipokhri. Most of the times we were weaving our way in and out of Nepal. Some residences and teahouses dotted the route. It’s a nice feeling to have such a friendly country as a neighbor where one can just stroll in. No questions asked! Many a teahouse where we had our refreshments were in Nepal. How many times during the trek I wished that it could be the same with Pakistan!! The Kanchenjunga was now visible through out our trek. The pine trees had become sparse. The Rhododendrons were still in a budding stage waiting for the right time, unlike at the lower altitude where they were in full bloom and seemed to set the forest on fire. An occasional Magnolia blessed us with large white flowers on a leafless tree. Plenty of pink flowers presumably orchids lined our trekking trail. Kalipokhri is more of a large pond than a lake and water is brackish and black in color, hence the same. Nevertheless, worshipped by the locals, colorful prayer flags fluttered over it.

“Never waste any amount of time doing anything important when there is a sunset outside that you should be sitting under!” - C. JoyBell C.

This place was to be our night halt on day 3. The tents were already up when we reached and hot lunch awaited us. I crashed into my tent unaware of the spectacle that I was to witness a couple of hours later. If the sunrise was one of the most beautiful events I had witnessed in the morning at Tonglu, I have no words to describe the sunset that was on display that evening.

The sky was a canvas awash with all possible hues of red and orange. I wondered if any artist ever could prepare so many hues of one color. The mountain ranges below with the clouds between them welcomed the sinking sun as it slowly melted into them, leaving behind a myriad of glowing red. As darkness crept in, a hue of purple replaced the red in the horizon. It was simply hypnagogic. This vivid image of the evening will remain etched in my mind forever. And yet again a canopy of silvery stars covered us and I went to sleep without praying for anything tonight. I had got more than I had prayed for!

This day was the high point of out trek, figuratively and literally. The distance from Kalipokhri to Sandakphu is about 8 km and an altitude gain of about 1600ft to reach 12000 ft. Sandakphu is the highest point in WB. It means land of the poison plant, so called because of the Aconite plant found here in large numbers.

As we reached Sandakphu, an 180º view of the Himalayas welcomed us! The Everest was clearly visible in all its glory, flanked by the Lhotse and Makalu on sides. I stood transfixed as I took in the view, my first view of the Everest. Our halt for the night was still a km walk away and we had to trek through a narrow snow filled path to reach there. The tents were put up at the edge of a cliff. The clouds

floated below and a gentle mist arose from the lower hills to gradually engulf us. The setting sun cast its diffuse red glow on them. The next morning began with a climb to the adjoining hilltop to have an unrestricted view of the sunrise and a panoramic view for the Everest and Kanchenjunga. It was a heavenly sight to witness the world’s tallest peaks lit by the 1st^t light of the day. I was literally on top of the world!

The trek to Phalut is a long one covering 21kms though there’s no

altitude gain. It’s a pleasant trail through wide-open meadows unlike the previous days when most of the trails were narrow and rocky. The mountains seemed to watch our every step. And the panoramic view of the Himalayas continued for a large part of the walk to Phalut. We reached our camp, which was partly surrounded by snow late in the afternoon. Phalut in local language means wind and this place lived up to its reputation. To add to the wind, unlike the previous evenings it had started becoming misty again. It seemed as if the veil was falling again on the mountain peaks. The show was probably coming to an end. The peaks were no longer visible. To see them again in the morning I would have to climb a mountain just behind out campsite at 5 in the morning, said our guide. In that chilly and windy evening that thought was not very welcoming, nevertheless as I retired for the day I was determined to give it a shot the next morning.

“The world's big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.” - John Muir

I woke up at 4.30am to find a layer of ice over our tents rendering it crisp. The opening flap of our tent crackled as I parted it to step out to be greeted by an icy darkness and the barking of stray mountain dogs. My tent mate and I braved our way up the mountain, cameras in hand to witness the last sunrise of this trek. We reached the top well in time to see the day break as the Kanchenjunga slowly started getting lit up followed by the other surrounding peaks and then it spread to Makalu and the Everest and Lhotse.

Through the thin haze that hung over the air, the view was surreal. The peaks seemed like icebergs floating in an ocean of clouds. Both of us spent more than an hour there taking in that beautiful vista, embedding it in our minds and making sure that it lasts for a lifetime. This was the last day of visualizing the tallest peaks of the Himalayas. No other place in the world offers such a view. Standing in one place I could see four of the five tallest peaks in the world and I felt lucky to be a part of that vista.

After breakfast we began our descent to Ramman, a 25 km beautiful walk down through bamboo and pine forests. The Rhododendrons reappeared as we trekked down the mountains. Flowers in shades of pink and white were in full bloom as we neared village Gorkhey.

Located in a picturesque valley Gorkhey has all the trappings of a film set. Colorful houses, Pine trees, a plateau and the Gorkhey river passing by dividing Sikkim and West Bengal. It is a place worth spending a night.

On the drive back to Darjeeling, I reminisced. This trek was all about sunrises and sunsets. Though cliché, in the mountains they were extraordinary, each more remarkable than the other. What has been happening for probably millions of years will continue. I just happened to witness that celestial spectacle. The sun will continue to rise and set whether anyone sees it or not.I had come alone to this trek without expectations and a blank SD card in my camera. I was going back after meeting wonderful people, making good friends, a mind full of memories, a heart full of emotions and an SD card filled with glorious images of the mountainscape.

We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us.” - John Muir

PS: My gratitude to India Hikes and their team of Trek Leader Soumya, Guide Chorten Sherpa and Buddha Lepcha for making this possible.

Saraswat traditions

2014-07-28T20:59:00.001-07:00

Every year, during the holy month of Shravan on every Fridays and Sundays, for long as I can recollect, I have observed my mother without fail, performing the ritual of "Choodi Pujan" where a small bunch of flowers and a few strands of Durva is tied together and worshipped along with a few betel leaves, betel nut and the Tulsi plant.
I remember as a small child taking part enthusiastically in these Pujas. The preparation began early in the morning when I used to go around in our colony collecting flowers. Ratnagandhi, Shankapushpi, Jaswandi were typically a part of the Choodi. Kamakasturi, a fragrant leaf was also included wherever available.

As she performed the Puja, I recollect waiting eagerly for it to get over so that she could serve the sweet delicacy which she had prepared for the occasion. The sweets were typically Pohas sweetened with Jaggery with grated raw coconut mixed liberally called God Pohu or a mixture of coarsely ground chana powder/Moong powder with jaggery, coconut and cardamom called Panchakajay.
Now, Marigold, Rose petals Asters and other whatever flowers our Haarwalla gets have replaced the traditional flowers. I am busy in my profession, she is too old to go out by herself to pluck the flowers from the plants and trees in the neighbourhood. But her Pujas continue religiously. The sweets are made as usual, tasting better and better with her experienced hands, but I no longer wait for them. I eat them in the evening, sometimes the next day, sometimes it’s left uneaten.

My Mountain Song

2014-07-16T12:21:00.000-07:00

“The mountains are calling and I must go.”
― John Muir

This blog is not about the itinerary of my trek. There are plenty of these available on the net. It's a compilation of the feelings and thoughts that drifted through my mind as I walked on braving the altitude, the extremes of day and night time temperatures, the ascent which tested my heart and lung capacities, the descent which tested my knees and toes. It is about the victory of mind over the body. It's about a dream come true. It's about visiting paradise and coming back. There may be higher and more difficult and dangerous treks, but there cannot be a more beautiful trek.

The mountains had been beckoning since long and I was yearning to visit it. The time had come to fulfill my desire. Begin a new relationship, not knowing how it will sustain the ravages of time. Nevertheless a start was made. The choice couldn't have been better. In the lap of the mighty Himalayan peaks, giving in myself willfully into the arms of one of the most beautiful places on earth - Kashmir. It was a place where civilization did not exist. I was beyond the shallow world of all things man-made. God, religion, caste, creed, boundaries and politics did not exist.

This trek had a hidden agenda. To discover the hidden lakes, the great alpine lakes of Kashmir, which would unravel themselves only to those who dared to visit them. Hidden in the valleys between the towering snow peaks of the mighty Himalayas. This was a Paradise! God, if existed probably stayed here and was everywhere and in everything.

I will be the gladdest thing

Under the sun

I will touch a hundred flowers

And not pick one.

-Edna st. Vincent, “Afternoon on a Hill”

With every new day, every descent or ascent, or even just round the corner, new vistas unfolded in front of my eyes.This trek involved walking on snow, strolling in the meadows, crossing rivers, climbing rocky surfaces... almost everything that a trek is supposed to have. I wondered as I trekked on, could the sky be more blue, the clouds more white and the grass more green? At places, the trails were narrow, lined by small yellow flowers. The wild Himalayan flowers were one thing that stood out in this trek. I saw them in many hues, yellow, and white, purple and blue. These small mountain flowers, some blooming in clusters like a bouquet, some growing in the midst of rocks, some by the riverside. Each flower bloomed by itself in the wilderness, spreading its fragrance, attracting the bees for self-propagation and then withering away. They looked unusually fresh in the crisp and cool mountain air. Their beauty was a sight to behold for those who dared to reach up to them. The soil and the rocks remain covered by snow for about 6 months. As temperatures rise with the advent of summer, and the snow starts melting, greenery sprouts everywhere, interspersed by swathes of yellow, white and purple. The seeds remain buried all this time, waiting patiently for their chance, their resilience making them victorious. It’s a sort of ‘Jugalbandhi’ between the snow and the flowers and both win.

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says "Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
― Lewis Caroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Every day had a destination, a place to reach and relax - the campsite. The fluorescent yellow tents, set midst the green meadows, surrounded by partially melting snow peaks, the river flowing next to it, the source of pure, genuine mineral water drunk straight from the source. I always looked forward to reaching it. It was my home for 7 days. The sight of these tents soothened my tired body and fatigued mind like an elixir. But the path was different for each one. I had to ascend sometimes, and occasionally had to descend to reach it. There was no way one could take the path for granted. It was beautiful for those who valued it. It was arduous for some, a chore for others. Every step had to be watched, every moment cherished. A wrong step and this very path could turn treacherous. As I treaded on it, I thought, ‘Isn’t it the same in our routine life too?’ We start in the morning, undertake various chores throughout the day with a result to achieve by the day’s end. Every decision is like a step taken. A wrong one and the consequences could be disastrous. I had to be aware of myself, of the steps I take and of my surroundings.

At places, the clear, blue skies seemed to bend down and kiss the green earth. The clouds hanged as if suspended by invisible threads. Occasionally the dark rain clouds came nearer threatening to burst open, but thankfully it just remained a threat. While walking on the rocks and snow and crossing rivers I had to be careful, strolling on the meadows was a luxury. At places, grazing sheep, camouflaged by the stones, dotted the landscape. There were thousands of them, grazing blissfully taking their own sweet time. Some of them followed by their young lambs was a visual delight and brought a smile on my face, the tiredness forgotten.

I always woke up by 4. Daybreak began by then. It was always chilly in the mornings before the sun rose and covered me with its warm blanket. Sitting on the rocks, watching the gurgling brooks flow past, the early rays of the sun imparting a golden hue to the surrounding peaks and braving the chill was my morning routine. I knew that these moments won’t last forever and wanted to make the most of it. The cold numbed my body and my thought process. I couldn’t think of the past, nor contemplate on the future. I was only in the present then, savoring that moment in time, making an imprint on my mind, one that would last forever and remain a permanent memory in my mind’s eye. The water in the rivulets fed by the melting glaciers increased as more snow melted under the glare of the rising sun. The waters flowing past like time slipping away, the same waters never return. It is a one-way process.

The lakes were the highlight of this trek. Untouched, unspoilt, azure blue, alpine lakes. The Vishansar, which changed colors from morning to late evening. The adjoining Krishansar, which was still partially frozen. And both of them seen together as we ascended to a altitude of 13000ft.

The Gadsar, i.e a lake full of fish which had a turquoise hue. The 7 lakes of Satsar, of which we could see 3 lakes. And last but not the least, the twin lakes of Nandkul & Gangabal over which towered the inaccessible Harmukh peak at 16000 ft. The placid, still and peaceful waters of these lakes seemed contagious. Occasionally a breeze blew causing the surface to ripple a wee bit. The same feeling came over me as I sat on its banks gazing into the waters for long, the breeze making me shiver a bit.

“Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.”

― R.W Emerson

The nights were as beautiful as the day albeit different in it’s own way. The moon grew bigger as the days passed and on our penultimate day it was so bright that the moonlight lit up the entire valley. The rivers sparkled and the snow peaks shone in its light. The skies were covered with a million twinkling stars. Lying on the grass, watching the stars and the few clouds floating by was a childhood fantasy come true.

“Not just beautiful, though--the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they're watching me.”

― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

As the trek neared its end, just like all good things end, a mixed feeling overcame me. Happy at the thought of returning home to my loved ones, sad at the thought of leaving this Paradise, and going back to a materialistic world, a egocentric world, of world of ruthlessness and live and let die. But I have promised myself; I will be back, a promise I mean to fulfill soon.

PS: This trek called as "The Great Lakes of Kashmir" trek starts at Sonmarg at an altitude of 8000ft. It ends at Naranag agin at around 8000ft after 7 days and 60kms of hiking over a maximum altitude of 13500 ft. My special thanks to 'INDIA HIKES' Tour leaders Tarak, Viral and Dipesh, the guides Noorani and Javed, the support team and all my fellow trekkers who made the journey a lot more easy and full of fun.

Through the looking glass

2014-02-12T02:13:00.000-08:00

Through the looking glass.
(With due apologies to Lewis Carrol)

A few weeks back, the inevitable happened. Something which I was trying to avoid all these days. The ophthalmologist declared me a Presbyopic!! And since I also couldn't read the vision chart hanging on his wall, I required glasses for distant vision too, he said! This meant wearing glasses all the time. I couldn't imagine myself with a pair of spectacles hanging from the bridge of my nose. Not that I fancy myself to be a Sharukh or Salmaan, but the thought of an appendage to my body gave me jitters.

And then began the process of choosing the right frame. What my wife liked was rejected by my daughter and vice versa. What I liked was unanimously rejected by them both. Finally we settled on a compromise frame which all 3 of us agreed looked reasonably decent on my face and made it more presentable than what it actually was.

A week passed by, I finally got my glasses from the optometrist and wore it for the first time. I got a feeling as if everyone was staring at me. I imagined mysef to be like some extra terrestrial animal, a creature from Mars, perhaps. Then gradually as my eyes got accustomed to their new life companion, the world seemed to be a new place. Unlike ‘Alice’s looking glass’, objects and faces were brighter, sharper and clearer. I was now enjoying my new found vision. I didn't need to squint my eyes when reading the contents of medicine strip. I didn't have to hold the newspaper at an arm's length to make the words appear clear. I didn't have to wrinkle my forehead and massage my closed eyes when talking to patients. I was free from all these mannerisms which had unknowingly creeped in me over the past few months.

But over the next few days, I discovered a few hindrances of wearing glasses. The moment I stepped out my car during daytime, the glasses fogged and took some time to clear. It also happened when sipping piping hot tea or coffee. I had to open the umbrella even if it was drizzling lightly or else the water droplets on the glasses blurred my vision. Things which I had taken for granted were not the same any longer.

Weeks passed by. I realized that humans by nature as a very adaptable species and it applied to me too. It has been more than 3 weeks now since I wore my glasses for the first time. Reluctance has now given way to acceptance... and acceptance to dependence.

Driving the journey of life.

2014-02-12T02:02:00.000-08:00

I love driving, especially long drives on roads I haven’t been on before.

A road journey is somewhat similar to the journey of life. Driving a car with steering wheel in the hand can be likened to living a life, trying to control the events, steering it in a direction of one’s choice.
To quote William Henley from his poem Invictus, “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul”. This is how I feel when I drive. My car becomes my fate. I can control it; I know where I am heading. I can accelerate and overtake, or decelerate and fall behind, watching others pass by. I can take risks or play safe. When the roads turn bad, I slow down, just as a bad patch in life holds one back. And we wait for the road to improve like we wait for the bad times to pass away and good ones to roll again. "This too shall pass away" I think and drive on towards my destination.
This quote by Norton Juster with a slight alteration sounds apt here, “The most important reason for driving from one place to another is to see what’s in between, and I took great pleasure in doing just that”
Of course just as it happens in life, things can get unpredictable, undesirable, hostile situations can crop up, circumstances beyond one’s control. It’s all about handling such situations and emerging out stronger, chastised and experienced. It not only about me and myself but observing others too, taking care not to get stepped on and not to step on. Once the journey is done and destination reached, I sit back, relax enjoy the present and reflect on the way driven. It's my game, my rules.
Nothing can epitomize the journey of our life more than a long drive to a destination.

As Ernest Hemmingway wrote “It’s good to have an end to journey toward; but it’s the journey that matters, in the end”.

The present through the past

2013-07-28T11:33:00.002-07:00

On a rainy and a lazy Saturday afternoon, not having much to do, I decided to revisit my postage stamp collection which I hadn't touched since a long time. Browsing through this collection which I still manage to update, a wave of nostalgia swept over me. Those carefree days of yore replayed in my mind and I couldn’t help but think of today's childhood and that of the yesteryears.

There were hobbies then and there are ‘probably’ hobbies now. ‘Probably’ because I hardly know anyone from the present generation who see beyond the ‘electronic world’ which has so much to offer, so much to entertain, so much to while away one’s time. In those days painting, philately, music, songs, reading etc were considered a usual way of life and one was not forced

Those were the days when radio was an important mode of entertainment. And radio meant ‘Vividh Bharati’’Bombay A’ and ‘Bombay B’. Vividh Bharati was all about ‘Bhule bisare Geet’and I recollect ‘Hawa Mahal’ (Is it still on air?). The slow, but pleasant tune of “Hawa Mahal’ still plays out in my mind occasionally. Bombay A and B was about political discussions and talks on agriculture interspersed by Indian classical music.

Television was just launched then and was a luxury that few could afford. And the TV programs in B/W started at 6 PM, with a soulful rendering of DDs signature tune. Chaya Geet, Phool khile hai Gulshan Gulshan, the Sunday evening feature film interspersed by ‘Marathi Batmya’ …and by 10pm it was all over, television programmes done for the day. So off to bed latest by 10 PM!

Telephones meant only landlines and public call booths and not every household had a phone. It was a privilege to have one! It was ‘Bombay Telephones’ back then, not MTNL and with only 6 digit telephone numbers which were easy to memorize. Electronic diaries came much later. Telephone numbers were jotted in small pocket dairies and kept carefully in wallets or shirt pockets.

All these meant that choices were limited in the world of entertainment and hence the recourse to hobbies. An interest in classical music developed as there weren’t any alternatives to listen to apart from the film songs which were duly memorized and can be recollected with ease even today. In contrast, how many lyrics from today’s songs can be recalled? There was a lot of free time which lead to pursuit of creative hobbies like painting, knitting, embroidery etc.

As I write this, the now obsolete concept of ‘Pen Pals’ comes to my mind. Exchanging letters with people from different parts of the world, forging friendships. Exchanging cultural notes, stamps and currencies’….Oh, what fun!!! FB is probably an electronic version of the same.

And how times have changed?? The B/W now seemingly humongous idiot boxes have given way to sleek and smart LED TVs with 24 hours nonstop entertainment. Radio means FM, blurting out the latest chartbusters. Classical music can go and take a walk. Landlines are giving way to mobile phones, smart mobile phones which can do everything.

What is the outcome? Inventions which were supposed to save time have made us busier! Hardly a program is being watched to its completion. Changing channels frequently is the norm. Instant gratification is the need. Patience is the casualty. We carry 2 mobiles in the innocent misconception that it will be convenient and get more irritable when they keep ringing, sometimes simultaneously. We don’t sit peacefully any longer, There is a constant need to send messages, update statuses and check out missed calls….uff!

As I write this, I question myself, am I being cynical? I think. Am I searching for unnecessary faults in a way of life which today’s generation has taken to like a fish to water? May be, may be not! But aren’t these facts?

Looking outside my window I see the huge glass and concrete structures of BKC staring at me and I compare the grand Gothic structures of yore dotting the Fort area in Mumbai starting from the majestic CST with these. These giant glass structures – How telling are they of today’s times? Speedily constructed structures, the glass façade giving me an impression of what facades are actually supposed to do. Hide the internal faults, the ugliness, the ineptness of modern constructions; an outcome of today’s need for instant gratification. It’s a reflection of the world that we live in today. A superfluous world!

Mist in Mussoorie.

2013-06-05T12:46:00.000-07:00

The mist in Mussoorie

It's a dead place to go for a vacation, friends said. Why Mussoorie of all the places?

Mussoorie, a bird's eye view

It turned out to be partly true!! I visited two cemeteries during my week long stay there.

But let me start from the beginning. After having visited most places in Uttarakhand, Mussoorie was long overdue. Having read a lot of Ruskin Bond, the call of Mussoorie was too tempting to resist any longer. This despite the fact that this quaint little hillstation, once the 'Queen of the hills' has succumbed to the lure of modernisation and is now buried under the rubble of development,like most of the hill stations in our country.

The bustling Mall Road

About an hour and half from Dehradun airport, Mussoorie has somewhat paid the price for its easy acessiblity. This was evident all around me as as my car entered its famous Mall road. The road was bustling with tourists, eateries and souvenir shops. The mountains are impossible to view from here,their sight blocked by ugly hotels and shops built hapazardly. Thankfully, driving a little further down,the road widened a bit, shops and tourists became sparse and the sight of the hills gladdened my heart.

Climb to our Hotel

It was a sunny day on the 30th of May 2013 as I checked-in into the hotel which was located just off the Mall road, but at a height of about 300 meters from it. It was quite a steep drive upto the place. The view from my room was awesome. The windows opened upto the vistas of the greater Himalayas in the far distance. Unfortunately, the skies weren't clear enough that day to see the snow peaks from my window, but layers upon layers of the Himalayan hills could be seen till the eyes could see no more.

By the time lunch was done with, another 2 hours passed and suddenly I  experienced the fickleness of weather in the hills. The sun was now engulfed by dark clouds,a steady drizzle began, a cold wind blew and  the mountain chill turnied the raindrops into hail. I could see visualise this hail and wind battering the mountains which stood strong braving this onslaught. For someone who had just arrived from the humid coastal plains of western India this was a revelation!

A heavenly feel.

The next morning greeted me with another pleasant suprise. I peeered outside my window and a blank canvas stared back at me. It was a sheet of absolute white outside. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, wondering if there was something wrong with my eyesight. The hills had disappeared completely. It was as if nature had shut herself off by pulling a white veil over herself. The cool mist wafted in through the window..... Sitting on a rocking chair by the window  into my room with a cup of piping hot tea, a plate of Pakodas and a book to read...... Ahhhh... if this isn't heaven, then what is, I wondered. In some time as the mist thinned out, the clouds, the hills and the trees appeared. It seemed like I was witnessing a magician at work or was it a painter who had painted this scene on the white canvas?

During my stay in Mussoorie. I tried to look beyond the usual fare which a hill station offers, I stared unabashedly with a penetrative gaze and lo and behold, the beauty of Mussoorie unveiled it self,its mask created in the name of progress and development peeling off. I could feel its soul and palpate its pulsating heart beat. Beneath the apparently dead town I could sense a thriving, throbbing and timeless creation.

St Paul's Church

The Britishers should be given due credit for discovering most of the present day hill stations in India. Shimla, Darjeeling, Dalhousie, Nainital, Almora, Mussoorie etc being some of them. Mussoorie, while not being as important an administrative center as Shimla, served as a recreational and retirement home for many. The more than century old churches, some bungalows now comverted to heritage hotels stand mute witnesses to those days.

Landour - about 4kms away, the twin town of Mussoorie is as close as one can get to see how Mussoorie must have been in olden days. Being a cantonment area, it's largely untouched by the crass commercialisation that has ravaged its counterpart. Knowing that Ruskin Bond stayed in Landour, I decided to trek to the place. A left turn from 'Picture Palace' on Mall road and the road leads to Landour through the narrow lanes of Landour Bazaar with its quaint little shops. There are a couple of antique shops on the way which have authentic items for sale. Before I forget I must mention that Mussoorie doesn't have a single movie theatre at present. It used to boast of 6 theatres till recently, but unfortunately all have shut down. 'Picture Palace' which used to screen movies is now a gaming zone and has a small theatre showing 5D films.

Having snacks at 'Char Dukan'

Coming back to Landour, the best way to explore is on foot and this was no exception. A walk upto Lal Tibba, the highest point in Landour while very steep at places will pass through most places of interest. I passed Ivy cottage - Ruskin Bond' s home and on an impulse climbed upto the 1st floor where he stays in a single room, but one which commands a beautiful view of the Himalayan range. Without a prior appointment,I couldn't muster enough courage to knock on the door and turned back. Another the  1/2 hours climb and I reached 'Char Dukan, which used to be the parade ground during British days. Now about 5 shops occupy this area and provide food, groceries and other daily requirements for locals and tourists. Close to Char Dukan, is the quaint and pretty Kellog's church,established in the 1860's.

Rokeby Manor

Landour has hardly any hotels, I saw just a couple of them - Doma' s Inn at Ivy cottage and the Rokeby Manor, an old mansion, now run as heritage hotel by hotelier Sanjay Narang. Rokeby, which is more than a 150 year old structure has an interesting history and worth a look. 
Landour also has an old cemetery, which is quite well maintained, but not as big as the one in Mussoorie. It was locked when I reached and the caretaker required a little cajoling to let me in. It contains the grave of Tom Tom  Alter's  parents and many other Englishmen and women who never returned back to England, by Providence or by choice.

Ruskin Bond at the Cambridge book store

My visit to Mussoorie could not be complete without meeting its most famous resident, Ruskin Bond. Even though I couldn't meet him at his residence, I booked an appointment with him for the next day at the local book store which he visits once a week. The owner, a very affable person arranged it for me and also for a few books to be autographed by him.

I should also mention about a few eateries in Mussoorie. 'Chick chocolate' opposite Clark's hotel on the Mall road where we had one of the best Pizzas ever which could easily put CPK and its likes to shame. It also had some lovely shakes. Mouth watering Tibetan fare at 'Momo's' next to Chic Chocolate and also at 'Domo's Inn' in Landour shouldn't be missed.




Ivy Cottage



Pizza at Chic Chocolate

It drizzled daily, through out my stay in Mussoorie. The mist was always hanging in the air, occasionally becoming so heavy that I could hardly see beyond couple of feet during my walks. It shrouded the hills completely and at times it floated through the open windows of my room giving an ethereal look to the place. 
There was a heavy mist and a steady drizzle on the the day we ventured out to see the cemetery in Mussoorie located at Camel Back road. This one established in 1929 has some old graves dating back to 1816. I called Ms Colleen Ganzter,(she of the eminent travel writer duo of husband and wife) and sought her permission to visit the cemetery and were asked to be there by 11AM the next day.

Mussorie Cemetry

I woke up to another rainy morning. Braving the drizzle and the cool mist,the 4 (my kids are more than eager always to visit cemetries) of us reached the gates about 1/2 hour early. We all stood there patiently huddled close together trying to get the warmth of each other's bodies waiting for caretaker of the cemetry. 10 minutes past 11, out of nowhere, through the mist, Prem Singh appeared.I looked at the his feet, expecting them to face backwards. The setting was perfect for a ghost story, straight out of Ruskin Bond's book. Confiming my identity, he unlocked the gates and let us in.

Inside the cemetry.

The tall trees in the graveyard, the heavy mist hanging in there background, the continuous splatter of raindrops falling through the leaves completed the eerie picture of a spooky cemetery.  I half expected apparitions arising from the weather beaten graves. 
Strangely, I experienced no fear, only peace. The overall experience was surreal. The weather, being more responsible for it. The mist gently floated around, a chill in the air, and a sense of serenity descended on me.  The site of this beautiful cemetery on the slopes of Mussoorie, overlooking the mighty Himalayas made death seem inviting.... If this is where I would be buried forever, then I will welcome death with open arms, I thought as I walked in between the tombstones, reading the beautifully calligraphed, sculptured epitaphs.

My stay in Mussoorie was coming to an end. A lot of places remained to be seen, many things left to be done. I hadn't expected my short stay to be so memorable. With a heavy heart and a promise to myself to return, I left for the leg leg of my journey to Kanatal.

Deodhar forests at Kanatal.

Kanatal which is about 40kms away and about 1000feet higher than Mussoorie is still a virgin hill station with few hotels that are scattered far and in between. It has an almost 360º view of the Himalayas. The slopes on either sides of the road abound with verdant Deodhar trees. Early morning walk through these forest of Deodhars gave me an exprience to cherish for life. The branches at the top of these trees form a canopy and the slanting rays of the early moring Sun filtering through them have left an undeletable image in my mind. In the background the chirping of birds, the monsoon call of the Koel.....Some of the best things in life are surprisingly free. I felt blessed as I lay down in the woods, staring at the morning sky, through the canopy formed by these tall majestic trees and these words by Rudyard Kipling quoted aptly in a book by Ruskin Bond came to my mind....



"and the last puff of the day-wind brought from the unseen villages,the scent of  damp wood-smoke, hot cakes, dripping undergrowth,and rotting pine-cones. That is the true smell of the Himalayas,and if once it     creeps into the blood of a man, that man will at the last, forgetting  all else, return to the hills to die."

My thoughts as I run

2013-01-21T20:10:00.004-08:00

Thoughts form and the words flow.....

The Joy of running! What I think when I run….

Running to the school as a kid, then to catch the train during my college days, then running about to establish my practice and now running the Marathons. No doubt, it is said we are 'Born to run'.

Tomorrow morning, in the wee hours of dawn, when most of the Mumbaikars will be enjoying their Sunday sleep, I will be at the Azad maidan along with thousands of fellow runners bursting with the pent up energy, brimming with enthusiasm, eager to start the 42.1 km long run - the Mumbai Marathon.

It will be a culmination of nearly all the year round training, days of getting up bleary eyed, at the crack of dawn to run every alternate day. Running early in the morning has its share of joy which only a runner can experience.

It's usually dark as I start my runs, the sun yet to rise, but the anticipation of a new dawn makes this darkness different from that of the night. The early morning chill, the cool breeze makes the start enjoyable. I am fresh, if the previous night's sleep has been uninterrupted, but more often than not, there is always someone who decides to get a stroke or an attack in the dead of night. Nevertheless years of getting night calls right from my residency days makes me get up at least once to check my mobile and see if I have missed any. Pavlov’s reflex, I guess!

Unlike the hustle bustle and chaos of the late morning, this time of the morning is a different world. The milkman on his bicycle whistling past, the vendors arranging the morning newspapers in neat pile, the roadside hawkers yet to set up their stalls and the near empty streets that greet me as I take a turn on the Hill Road are sights which I won't see as the day progresses. The occasional tempo with flowers, sometimes fish, zips past by me, stimulating, sometimes numbing my olfactory senses in its wake.

As day light breaks, the chirping of birds flying overhead in search of food intermingle with the music on my mp3 player. I see stray dogs moving menacingly on the road, barking and marking their territories. Somehow they never trouble me, though a lot of runners complain about dogs running after them. I usually ignore them and never even look at them; it's a dog’s world after all!!

I notice people, animals and the birds around me and realize that everyone seems to be living in a little universe of their own creation, going around their routine like well oiled machinery. The interactions that we have with each other, touching each other's lives is more often than not self-centered, catering to the fulfillment of our own desires.

I am getting my gear ready and also downloading songs in my music player for tomorrow’s run, a flashback starts in my mind and I recollect my 1st Full Marathon 3 years ago and how tense I was before the run. During my runs and even on the Marathon day, I always carry my Mp 3 player with me. I can't run without my music and contrary to the majority who listen to fast paced music or songs, I love listening to slow, but intense songs from old Hindi films. They somehow seem to gently mingle with the relaxed morning atmosphere making my runs more enjoyable. As the music plays on and my run progresses, my mind starts to take off on a flight of fantasy. The lyrics play on in my mind and I become one with the singer. I become sad poet, that rejected lover, the happy tramp, and sometimes the carefree young man trying to find his moorings in this world.

The middle part of the run is the most comfortable, somewhere between the 10 to 30 km mark. I go on a cruise mode now. A gentle rhythm has developed. The music of my Mp 3 player is regaled to the background now as the sound of my feet grating on the concrete starts to synchronize with my harsh breathing and my by now thumping heart and a different melody starts playing in my ears. I am in a different orbit now. I am in a trance, oblivious of the surrounding site. It's only I, me and myself.

The final part of the run, the last 10 Kms is the defining part. It can make me or break me. Fortunately it has been the former so far. It's run more with the mind that the body, they say and it's so true. Muscle fatigue starts to set in, cramps bog me down, the body tells me to stop, but the mind is made up. It has to cross the finish line, the job once started has to be finished. The cheering of the crowd eggs me on.... It's a few Kms now and the end is in sight. I reserve a few inspirational songs for the last 2 to 3 Kms It adds a spring to my run and an extra bounce to my steps. I can see the finish line now. The sight itself rejuvenates me as it does to all the runners. The photographers lining the sides near the finish line brings out a smile on my tired face and as I breast the tape, I eye the timer. I have achieved what I had set out to.

As the agony gives way to ecstasy, the pain to pleasure, a wave of exhilaration sweeps over me and I recollect a quote I had read, “First you feel like dying. Then you feel reborn." It's been a satisfying run. One more run completed, my 1st full Marathon. It was all about competing with me, bettering myself and coming out on top. It was about my universe, the one I had created for myself and about conquering it!

Under the Chinar's shade - My thoughts on Kashmir.

2012-05-21T12:50:00.000-07:00

Under the Chinar's shade.

I am sure that the poet Iqbal wrote 'Saare jahan se accha, Hindostan hamara....' in Kashmir. For it is truly India's crown and without Kashmir, India won't be half as beautiful.

It was with a lot of apprehension that we finalized our Kashmir trip. Worries about the flight schedules going haywire, political unrest, local strikes, terrorist attacks in Srinagar tormented my mind till the day of our tour.Reassurances from friends and relatives who had 'been there and done that' did little to allay my fears.
Nevertheless the travel bug in me did not relent and the next few pages will outline the details of some of the most wonderful days of our lives. A trip which proved why Kashmir is truly a 'Jannat'.

Thursday, 10th May 2012, Mumbai to Srinagar ( 4 hours by flight ex Delhi)

We land smoothly in Srinagar 5 minutes before schedule, my 1st worry about about the flight disruptions done away with. We walk out of the airport and there is Shabbir, pronounced 'Shibbir' waiting with a placard announcing my name.
Shibbir turns out to a chatter box, eager to please and describe his cordial relations with all the guests he has been with for the past few years. As we drive to our hotel in Srinagar he hands me a dairy of all reviews his guests have about him, needless to say raving ones. It helps soothe my anxious nerves and all my remaining fears vanish.

We reach Srinagar in about 40mins.,check in our hotel, the Lalit Grand, a heritage property spread over 15 acres of lush green lawns, flower beds and the Chinars. In fact this was the start of my loving relationship with these majestic trees.
After freshening up and lunch, we were to visit the Moghul Gardens, the Nishat gardens being the first. But wandering in the lawns here, we felt no desire to visit the famed gardens.
We had an excellent lunch of Mutton Kheema, Butter chicken, Rotis, Rice and Dal fry at a local restaurant, Sunset Meadows. Highly recommended for the taste and quantity, but a tad bit expensive.

Nishat Bagh entrance

The Dal lake forms the epicenter of Srinagar. Most of the stay for tourists in Srinagar will be centered around activities in the lake. The houseboats, Shikara rides and the Moghul gardens which are in the vicinity of the lake. But there is much more to Srinagar than these and I wanted to visit Lal Chowk, the scene of many a protests and old Srinagar, I wanted to see the old Mosques and Dargahs.
We reach Nishat Bagh, the 2nd largest of the Moghul gardens, the Shalimar being the largest and Chasme Shahi the smallest. It is full of tourists arriving in hoardes, posing with the flowers for the cameras. We spot many locals too especially school picnics from the nearby towns. Nishat Bagh, built in 1633 AD by Asif Khan, Nur Jahan's brother means 'The Garden of Joy or Gladness'. Seeing such a never ending panorama of greenery,huge trees and flowers of varying hues dotting the place surely must be gladdening many a heart. An hour passed by effortlessly.
Shikara ride in the evening on Dal lake was next on the agenda. But since we were to spend the last 2 days again in Srinagar, we deffered the Shikara ride for another day.

We sat on the banks of the Dal lake watching the Shikaras drift by as fishermen cast their baits and waited patiently, the sun playing hide and seek with the rain clouds - it had rained heaving in the morning, gave us our unforgettable moments of joy. The Boulevard Road in Srinagar must be one of the most beautiful city roads in the world, flanked by Poplar tress on one side and the lake on the other, looking more beautiful as the setting sun cast various shades of red and pink in the evening sky.

We spent the rest of the evening in the lawns of our hotel lounging under the giant Chinars.

Friday 11th May, Srinagar (City sightseeing)

We woke up in the morning surpised, to see that the drizzling rain had formed small puddles in the lawn outside. The grass and trees were shimmering as the slanting early morning sun bathed them in its golden light. We had our breakfast and then explored the vast lawns of the hotel as we waited for our car.

Shankaracharya temple was the our first agenda for the day. I have always been impressed by Adi Shankarcharya. He was a child prodigy who left his home at the age of 7 years in 805 AD searching for a Guru, mastered the Vedas at 8, reestablished Hinduism, established the 4 'Mathas' at Shringeri in the South, Dwarka in the West, Joshimath in the North and Puri in the East, before attaining samadhi at a young age of 32. It was a coincidence and only fitting that we started our tour by first visiting a temple dedicated to this great man. It is a steep 250 steps climb to the temple and visitors are well advised not to carry any mobile or cameras as photography is strictly not allowed. The view from the top is simply breattaking. We had a bird's eye view of entire Srinagar and the Dal lake with its numerous House boats jostling for space even as the tin roofs of the houses glistened in the afternoon sun.

Being a Friday, lunch got postponed by an hour as most of the restaurants were closed for Namaz.

Our driver was reluctant to take us to Lal Chowk, citing the unpredictable situation there especially after the Friday prayers.
Finally post lunch, we embarked on a tour of the old city excluding Lal Chowk, starting with the Hazratbal dargah. The place was teeming with people who had come to offer prayers here. Bus loads of people were leaving the place, some on rooftops back to theirs homes or work after the prayers. We drove through the narrow bylanes of the old city, lined with old houses.
Kashmiri architecture is unique in its own way. Houses are made of stone and wood with beautiful arched windows and sloping multi leveled roofs. We saw some abandoned temples and houses belonging to Kashmiri pandits who had fled Srinagar during the height of insurgency. The once upon a time probably elegant mansions looked gloomy with broken window panes and doors falling apart. According to our driver these houses are not encroached upon and some are being reoccupied by the original owners who are returning back.
Our next stop was the Jama masjid or Jamia Masjid as the locals pronounce it. A very impressive structure, this 17th century Mosque, built first in 1400AD was burnt down 3 times due to its wooden interiors. Even now it is supported by370 wooden pillars almost 58 ft tall made of single trunks of Deodhar trees. It is a very fine example of Islamic architecture and is unique in the sense that its roof is pagoda like unlike the dome of other mosques. The place was completely empty as the faithfuls had left after their prayers. The light through the large windows falling on the unbelievably tall pillars of deodhar wood made for an excellent photo op. We spent almost an hour in the quite garden in the mosque as the locals stared at us in amusement as few tourists venture here and fewer still laze around in its gardens.

Photo session in Pari Mahal

Kashmiri Wazwaan

A surprise awaited me when we came out of this place. Food was being cooked in makeshift tent for a marriage function and seeing our enthusiasm and curiosity our driver volunteered to take me in and make me get acquainted with Kashmiri cuisine or Wazwan as it is called locally. He introduced me to the chief chef an elderly gentleman who overlooked the entire preparation. I was shown the art of preparing Goshtaba, Rishta, Rogan Josh, Kashmiri Kebabs, Kheema etc. All the cooking was made on wood stoked fire fuelled by oil from the preparations themselves and the animal fat that it contained. Unfortunately I could wait for them to finish the cooking and taste it due to constraints of time. We had to reach Pari Mahal, our last stop of the day before sun down.

Saturday, 12th May, Srinagar to Pahalgam. ( 90kms approx. 2 1/2 hours drive)

We left for Pahalgam at 11 AM as there was a drizzle throughout the morning and by then the skies had cleared up.

16km from Srinagar, is the town of Pampore, known for its Saffron cultivation. Apparently besides Iran, Greece and Spain, this is another place in the world which produces Saffron or Zaffran as it is known locally. It is basically the stigma of small purple colored flowers, about 5 lakhs of which produce 1 Kg of the aromatic Saffron. In October, the fields stretching for acres on either side of the road are colored purple because of these flowers in full bloom.

Further down 12 Kms is Avantipore, where lies the ruins of Avantiswami, a temple dedicated to Lord Vishnu built by King Avantivarman in the 9th century. This temple along with many others witnessed wide spread destruction in the medieval times by the Moghul invaders.

The town of Sangam, about 40 kms away from Srinagar is well know for Cricket bats made from Kashmir Willows. Shops selling all sorts of cricket bats line the roads. We went to a bat factory and how cricket bats were manufactured. The price of the bats ranged from Rs.400 to Rs. 2000. My son's joy knew no bounds when I bought a bat for him funnily labelled "Kookaburra".

En route Pahalgam

A brief stop for lunch at a local Dhaba and we set for for the final leg of our journey to Pahalgam. either We had an option of either going straight ahead on this road and enter Pahalgam via Anantnag or take a left turn at Bijbehara. We opted for the latter and this de tour which is about 4-5 kms longer, took us through picturesque villages flanked on either side by Walnut trees and apple orchards, the trees waiting to flower and bear the sweet Kashmiri apples. It was 3.30pm by the time we reached Pahalgam and checked in at our hotel. It was a pleasant surprise to find the Lidder, the river along which Pahalgam has developed, just a few meters walk from the hotel. We had a day to spare at Pahalgam and decided to spare our sightseeing tour for the next day.

Most of the shops were selling touristy stuff in the market and since our hotel was located nearby we decided to remaining day strolling in the market and getting a feel of the place. The moment we came out of the hotel, ponywallahs pounced on us like on any other tourists and started pestered us to ride the ponies. We had a hard time shrugging them off. It was then the turn of the roadside shawl and dress vendors to force their stuff on us by their unique marketing ways again which we had to evade using ingenious techniques.

As compared to Srinagar, Pahalgam is relatively cheaper for buying dresses, shawls and souveniers, but bargaining is a must.

Tomorrow will be another hectic day. We have planned a drive in the morning and pony ride later in the afternoon.

Sunday 13th May, Pahalgam (Sightseeing)

We left at 10 in the morning, a half an hour's delay and drove to Aaru, about an hour's drive from the market.

Aru

The breathtaking Panorama

After getting down from the car, we were told to walk back and take a left turn. As soon as we had done that, a breathtaking view of the Aaru valley unfolded in front of our eyes. We felt as if a curtain was drawn aside exposing nature in all her glory. It was pure fairy tale stuff, snow clad mountains behind the green Pine and Deodhar covered hills, the clear blue skies with floating fluffy white clouds, vast expanse of a green meadow with a rivulet running through it. it was Kashmir at its best!! We could visualise Heidi walking with us, a basket in hand, a lamb following her. A few meters walk and after crossing a small stream even the lambs became a reality. Herds of sheep were in front of us, grazing in the open grassland.

Any comparison to Switzerland is unfair to Kashmir. While Switzerland is beautiful in its own way, Kashmir's beauty is unparalleled. She has the attraction of a raw, ravishing and mysterious beauty, which makes Switzerland rather tame in comparision. My kids started following the sheep, lost in their own world, while we sat watching the snow peaks in the distance as the stream gurgled past us. We felt we were truly in Paradise.

" Hari hari vasundhara pe neela neela yeh gagan, Ye kaun Chitrakar hai, yeh kaun chitrakar!" echoed in my ears as we walked lazily along the stream.

A few tourists took the pony ride to the far end, but we found walking a better way to get a feel of the place. And walking bare feet feeling the grass under my feet and the cool air caressing my face was worth much more than the pony ride. It was past 12.30 pm and we reluctantly left the place as two more places had to be covered.

Chandanbari, the next stop was a bit of let down after Aru. It's a snow covered slope which is full of tourists and snow cover not being too thick was hard, slippery and mixed with the soil giving a white and brown patchy look to the whole place. Using a stick to climb up, my son Triaaksh and me went up the slope slipping occasionally on the snow to see another stream flowing from the base of the hills.
Betaab Valley, another stop on the way, so called after the Sunny Deol starrer, Betaab was shot here is well laid out landscaped large garden with the Lidder flowing in its midst.
It was 2.30 pm by then. After clicking a few pictures here and sitting by the river for some time we headed back to Pahalgam for lunch. There are a lot of eating places in Pahalgam and Dana Pani which we had noticed the previous evening was one of them. We reached to find it choc a bloc with loud, noisy tourists and could secure a place only after about 20 minutes of wait. The Thali was oily but nevertheless tasty.

We had originally planned to spend the 2nd half of the day taking the pony ride to other places which didn't have accessibility by road and leave for Gulmarg the next day, about 160 kms and a good 4 hours drive away. But the watch showed half past 4 by time we finished our lunch, and so we decided to defer the pony ride for the next day before leaving for Gulmarg.

Evening by the riverside

Our hotel in Pahalgam was located by the riverside. We sat next to the river watching the waters of the Lidder hurtle past us, hearing its roar, the flow getting more torrential by the hour as the melting snow added to the gushing waters, it's grayish green colour borrowing a tinge of pink from the setting sun.

As I lay on my bed waiting for sleep to arrive, I again visualized the lofty snow peaks and the lambs grazing. The sound of the water flowing reverberated in my ears and it wasn't long before sleep took me into a deep slumber, a satisfied one.

Monday 14th May, Pahalgam to Gulmarg ( 160 kms approx, 4 hours drive)

The first thing I did in the morning was to catch hold of the Ponywallahs, which as I mentioned before was the easiest task of the day. The difficult part was the bargaining. After using all the possible tricks of the trade and mutual agreement on the price we mounted our designated steeds and trotted off feeling like warriors. Sitting on horse can be a bit unsettling for the first 15 - 20 mins. I always wonder how these horses with their thin legs mange to carry such heavy loads uphill over slippery moss covered rocks. And this is precisely what they did. They seemed to be well trained, moving ahead in the right direction with hardly any cajoling or coaxing from their minders. After about half an hours ride through rocky terrain, mushy soil and crossing a rivulet or two we reached Baisaran.

I couldn't help but hum, " Yeh haseen waadiyaan ye khula aasmaan, aa gaye hum kahan aye mere saajna "

A vast meadow on the foothills of snow covered mountains, The air was cool and pleasant. Fortunately for us, the skies were clear, the sun shining in its full glory neutralizing the chill of the mountain air. Baisaran has been the site of many a film shootings. The omnipresent salesmen rushed towards us as we alighted from our horses and we had to again shrug them off . it had become habit by now and we could do so effortlessly.The locals brought rabbits and lamb for the children to play with and pose for photographs, all of course for a price.

We then saw the other 'points' as the ponywallahs call them- the Dabiyan, Waterfall , Kashmir valley view and Kanimarg in sucession which is a valley full of big stones fallen from the surrounding hills. 'Kani' means stone in Kashmiri and 'marg' is a meadow.

All these took about 2 1/2 hours. Sunita and I got down from our horses after Dabiyan and walked alongside the horses till Kanimarg. Walking always gives you a sense and feel of the place which cannot be experienced in a drive or on the horse back.

We had to now hurry up for lunch and proceed to Gulmarg, which was good 4 - 41/2 hours drive. Our aim was to reach there before sunset as it could be quiet chilly at night, being at about 9500 ft ASL.
Gulmarg is all about snow and Gondola ride. Also it is a place dominated by Gujjars. It was very surprising to see our driver being very cautious of them. Apparently they are notorious and hold the whip in Gulmarg. All them them are pony owners and do not allow tourist vehicles to ply in Gulmarg except to drop visitors at their respective hotels. From the hotel, tourists have to either take a Pony or walk down to nearby areas of interest. These are anyway not too far off and well within walking distances if you are fit to. These Gujjars do not trouble the tourists except pester them for the pony rides, about which we were well experienced by then.
We had a brief halt at Tangmarg, about 10 kms before Gulmarg to pick up snow shoes on rent for the next day to walk in the snow. We realized that this was a very wise thing did as surprisingly there were hardly any shops renting it out in Gulmarg.
Since it was late in the evening by the time we arrived at our hotel in Gulmarg we decided to have an early dinner and retire for the night.

Tuesday 15th May, Gulmarg and the Gondola ride.

Getting a ticket for the Gondola was a difficult proposition as the queue for the tickets start at 7 in the morning. The window opens at 10 Am. The idea of waiting in the queue for 3 hours when on a vacation was appalling. Shibbir had provided me with a contact number of a 'guide' in Gulmarg who would be arranging for the tickets and our 'sightseeing' in Gulmarg. I have inserted inverted commas for sightseeing as on retrospection we did realized that we could have easily done without one. Tickets for the Gondolas are available online at www.gulmarggondola.com. The 'guide' turned out to be a tout in disguise.
Anyway to cut a long story short, we paid him for the tickets, Rs. 300 each for the 1st level, Rs. 800 each for the 2nd level. If securing the tickets was difficult, getting inside the Gondola seemed impossible. There was a long chaotic queue of desperate tourists pushing and jostling each other to get inside the enclosure where the Gondolas have to be boarded. It was worse the getting inside a 2nd class compartment of a Virar local at Dadar during peak hours and the Mumbai crowd seemed more disciplined compared to the hoardes of tourists here.
My experience of boarding the Mumbai locals helped and I managed to get all the 4 of us into the Gondola safe and secure. There isn't much to see or do on level I, so we didn't waste our time there and went straight ahead for the 2nd Gondola ride to level II.
A white sheet of snow struck us with its dazzling brightness as we got out of the Gondola. We were in the clouds and in heaven. I could almost see the pearly gates with St Peter standing and welcoming me to this heavenly abode. All the irritability at the chaos and disarray we had been through on our way up vanished as we made our way slowly through the snow, our legs sinking knee deep in some places. This place Arawaat is about 13500 ft ASL and full of snow. The LOC between Pakistan and India can be seen at at distance and the army outpost as small specks of black on the snow peaks.
If it was the Ponywallahs who pestered us down, it was now the turn of sledge operators and ski wallahs. I would not suggest either. Its better to walk slowly and carefully around here and enjoy the view. Altitude sickness can strike here and hence one has to be a bit careful.
The skies were blue and clear with clouds floating along. We spent about an hour here and after we were sufficiently content of the place, boarded the Gondola back to the 1st level for lunch. As we were tucking into the delicious and hot Kashmiri Pulao, the weather suddenly changed. Dark clouds gather overhead ominously at an unbelievable pace. A strong wind started hollering and we could hear the thunder and the mountain tops became invisible as if they never existed. We could hear announcements asking people to vacate the 2nd Level. The authorities stopped issuing tickets to that level. Soon it started raining, first water drops and then hail. We were enjoying the best of both the types of weather and at the same time empathizing with those tourists who could not make it.

" Bambai ka fashion aur Kashmir ka Mausam, kabhi bhi badal sakte hai " ( Bombay's fashion and Kashmir's weather can change anytime) is an old Kashmiri saying which was proving true itself to be true now.

Later in the evening after spending some time in the hotel room, we went for a walk to a quaint little Shiva temple, the Mohineshwar Temple established by Maharani Mohini, King Hari Singh's wife almost a century ago in the middle of the meadow near the market. It's an enjoyable walk and we got some good views from there. There seemed to be more horses or ponies than people in Gulmarg.

Wednesday 16th May, Gulmarg to Srinagar.

The day as predicted turned out to be bright and sunny with clear skies. In fact we were feeling uncomfortably hot in the car during the drive back.

Since our check in time was at 2 PM, and we were early in Srinagar, we decide to visit the Govt. Arts Emporium at Heritage road in Srinagar. Drivers were reluctant to take us there pleading ignorance of the place. Whether it was feigned innocence or genuine I would never know, but we reached the place after asking for directions from the pedestrians. It was worth a visit if only to see the magnificent Heritage building in which it is located, and also a wide variety of exquisitively carved Walnut wood handicrafts ranging from jewelery boxes to beds to 8 seater dining tables and hand woven rugs.

We were to spend the rest of the day and the next 2 nights in a house boat. No stay in Kashmir can be complete with out a day's or two stay in one.And after reaching our house boat on the banks Nagin lake we waited till evening to venture out. On such days it bright till late evening so days are longer. We visited Chasme Shahi. It was too crowded for comfort, so we canceled our plan of visiting Shalimar garden and opted for a Shikara ride on Nagin lake instead. It turned out to be a good idea and the 1 hour ride through the lotus leaves, water lillies and floating gardens, as we watched the sun set behind the mountains inspired us to see the floating market next morning.

Thursday 17th May, Nageen lake, Srinagar, Sonmarg and back.

We got up at 4 am to leave by 4.30 am. It was pitch dark when we boarded the Shikara. We could hear the Azaan (call for the morning prayers to the Muslims) all around us interspered with the chirping of birds. We entered the Dal Lake through a narrow passage and negotiated our way through the fields of turnips, cauliflowers cabbages, raddish, tomatoes and spinach. It was astonishing to see such fertile land in the midst of the lake.

As the sun peeped from behind the mountains, we reached the place where the locals get their fresh produce in wooden boats and sell it to the highest bidders. We saw as boats which were full of vegetables were emptied out into other boats which bid the highest. Money and bunches of vegetables changed hands.
We sailed gently along the placid back waters of the Dal lake forming canals through old Srinagar and saw a different view of the city from the water. There were shops selling usual groceries to touristy stuff opening on the water front and the locals on boats buying daily goods from them. Shikaras drifted listlessly outside their homes as their owners were getting ready for another busy day.
We reached our house boat by 7.30 AM, had breakfast and then got ready to leave for Sonmarg. This was our penultimate day and we wanted to make the best of it. It was cloudy as we left for the 2 1/2 hours drive. A cloudy day was forecast. It had been a perfect tour for us so far and I was praying for the clouds to clear during the long drive.
Sonmarg is on the way to Leh. So there is lot of traffic, especially heavy vehicles and army convoys on this road, but as they say, sometimes the drive is more beautiful than the destination and as we reached Sonmarg after enjoying the beautiful drive along the Indus, the cummulonimbus which had gathered overhead were intent on proving themselves and it started pouring. As if this wasn't enough, a cold wind started blowing and it was wet, cold and breezy. No way we could enjoy Sonmarg, about which we had heard so much!! We took refuge in a restaurant and to pass time had an early lunch.
As the rains showed no signs of abating nor the clouds of clearing, we realized that we had pushed our luck too far. Nothing can be ever perfect and can be more unpredictable than the mountain weather, we surmised. We went back to our car for the drive to Srinagar into the cosy confines of our houseboat, when on the way a few kms down the road, we saw beautiful cafe by the riverside and decided to have some hot coffee. The rains had subsided by then, but the cloud cover had not. The Gods must have deliberated amongst themselves for just as we finished our coffee, lo and behold the sun was out from nowhere and it was bright and sunny all over. There wasn't a trace of the dark clouds as if the sun had won a battle and vanquished them all and was now ruling unchallenged over the skies.
This place was so picturesque that we decided against going back and rather spent time sitting next to the Indus as it roared past us. It was 2.30 PM before we realized. We had spent close to 2 hours here doing nothing, but watching the river, the snow peaks and the tall trees around. It was as if we wanted to pemanantly engrave this image of Kashmir in our minds, never to be forgotten in our lifetime.

Friday, 18th May Srinagar to Mumbai
Time to pack up and leave . We spent the last few hours in Srinagar (since we had to leave for the airport by 11AM) strolling in the garden above our house boat and seeing a bird's eye view of the Nageen lake, which is so called since it curves like a serpent. It is an offshoot of the Dal, but much more quiet. Those wishing for solitude should opt for a house boat on this lake as Dal lake is very crowded and bustling with activity.

Most of the hotels had large glass windows offering a Panaromic view of the valley. I will miss sitting by the window, seeing the morning sun peeping thru the pines trees, warming me with its gentle early morning sunrays while I enjoyed my morning sip of 'Kashmiri Kaawa'.

My blog may seem emotional at times, but Kashmir has it in her to bring out emotions. It's a pity that the environment here is that of uncertainty, insecurity and mistrust. Under the apparently normal situation, there is a simmering discontent, fear and like the weather in the mountains, one can never be certain about when the situation may take a turn for the worse.

Kashmir, Kashmiris and Kashmiriyat.
I have traveled across the length and breadth of India, from Kashmir to Kanyakumari, from Mumbai to Meghalaya. I have met the locals, interacted with them, but nowhere have I found them as pleasant, as cultured, eager to please and well mannered as Kashmiris. I had heard that they were shrewd and cunning, but then who isn't. To survive you have to be. After my limited interactions with the locals, I find hard to believe that these people can create so much unrest and violence in the Valley. And if they have, there must be reasons for doing so. They are proud of their different socio-cultural, lingual and physical identity - their Kashmiriyat and rightly so.
The people of Kashmir crave for Independence. We saw a few graffitis on the walls near the Dargah university which said " We want freedom". They don't want to be a part of either India or Pakistan. They maybe justified and while we can empathize with them, we cannot agree.
An independent Kashmir is synonymous with a weak India. The strategic location of Kashmir makes it necessary for it to be a part of our country or we will be sitting ducks for our untrustworthy neighbours. The center has to play a more important role and consider including the aspirations of Kashmiris in their policies. Their Kashmiriyat has to be retained and respected.
The Kashmiris and Kashmir should remain - an ever integral part of India, voluntarily, not by military pressure.

The Chinar should not be uprooted!!

Spiritual India - Uttarakhand

2010-06-04T03:02:00.000-07:00

To escape the humid heat of Mumbai we decided to spend about 8 days in the Garhwal Himalayas and planned for a change to blend tourism with spirituality ;)...and what could have been better than Chardham.
Chardham meaning 4 seats or abodes, nowadays implies the 4 sacred places of Badrnath, Kedarnath, Gangotri and Yamunotri. The original Chardham meant the 4 holy places in the 4 corners of India viz. Badrinath in the North, Rameshwar in the South lying at the same latitude as Badrinath, Jaganath Puri in the East and Dwarka in the west. Kedarnath and Yamunotri involves a little difficult trek of 14kms and 7 kms respectively and since we had ours kids with us, we decided to do the relatively easier Badrinath and Gangotri circuit where it's motorable right upto the top.
22/05/10

Our journey begins!

Delhi Airport to Rishikesh took about 7 hrs. It was a hot and dusty drive. The AC in the car just couldn't keep out the overbearing heat. Lunch was at Grand Cheetal, decent but too crowded and overpriced. We reached Rishikesh by 6 pm and checked in GMVN Ganga resort, lovely location but basic facilities and a least concerned staff, typical of a sarkari office. We were desperate to witness and photograph the much acclaimed Ganga Aarti so we left immediately by 6.30PM. An easy way of reaching the place where the aarti took place was to take a ferry across the Ganges, said the guide who accompanied us and we gleefully agreed.

The melodious, soulful bhajans,the vibrant, colorful gathering of devotees, the lighting of diyas and letting them afloat on the ganga was worth the journey. After the Ganga Aarti, we strolled through the ashrams and the bazaar littered with shops selling memorabilia, books and CDs of devotional songs. Through out our stay in Rishikesh, wherever we went, the strains of bhajans and religious songs, some unfortunately shrill and unbearable could be heard.

Dinner was a decent affair at the much recommended Chotiwalas'. But there are a lot of eating places serving continental food as Rishikesh is frequented by foreigners. We walked our way back to the resort through throngs of people via the Ram Jhula which was brilliantly illuminated at night.
23/05/10

Rishikesh to Harsil 250 kms
Another day, another long drive!

It is a uphill drive after Rishikesh, along the Ganga, on winding roads. The AC was no longer on as we were climbing up and the heat was getting into us. I and my daughter, both victims of motion sickness swallowed Draminate tabs and carried on trying to divert our mind from the nausea we were experiencing by attempting to enjoy the scenic drive. Intermittent stretches of bad roads due frequent landslides added to our misery. Finally after 8 hours of driving we reached our destination.

A small quaint town about 25kms before Gangotri, Harsil has everything that a nature lover would want. It was as if God had sculpted it in his spare time. Gurgling rivers with bridges, green meadows, tall deodhar trees surrounded by snow peaks complete the picture. A visit to Harsil cannot be complete without a visit to Bagori, a small Tibetan settlement. We were treated to their 'Namkeen Chai' made with butter and a dash of salt. One should spend at least 2 days in Harshil as there are numerous good treks here, a popular one being the Saat Tal trek which can be covered in less than a day.

It was in Harsil that the movie 'Ram Teri Ganga Maili 'and the famous waterfall bathing scene was shot. Unfortunately just as Mandakini has vanished from Bollywood without a trace, the waterfall has also vanished, apparently after a flash flood in the Baghirathi a few yrs back, so I had to be satisfied imagining both the waterfall and Mandakini being there. But the delightful little postoffice in the movie (if you recollect) still exists.

24/05/10
Harsil-Gangotri-Barsu

The 25km drive to Gangotri takes about an hour and half. The final 2kms of the narrow road was choked with traffic pouring in from both directions, so we had to undertake this few kms on foot. Once we reached the temple pretincts we were besieged by the so called priests and on showing the slightest hesitation, they are ready to grab you by the arm and take you to the banks of the river for an elaborate ritual of cleansing yourself of the sins performed so far in life. Even then it's worth taking a dip in the icy cold waters of the Bhagirathi. Here the devout fill small brass and copper pots with the holy water to take it back home to their loved ones. Gaumukh glacier from where the Ganga (or to be technically correct, the Bhagirathi) starts, is 18 kms from Gangotri and takes 2 days of trekking to reach.

From Gangotri we started our journey for Barsu.

Barsu is a very small and remotely located village about 60kms from Gangotri and about 9kms off the highway. Situated at an altitude of about 2000mts it's full of wheat and potato fields. About 1/2hr walk from the village along a cemented road is a lovely waterfall.

The Dayara Bugyal or meadow, full of wild flowers is a 7km trek from the village where overnight camping can be arranged for. We met a group of school children who were coming down from this place after an overnight halt in tents in Dayara Bugyal. The joy on their faces showed the fun they had up there.
25/05/10

Barsu to Karanprayag 250 kms

This was a very long journey which took us almost 9 hrs. We took a shorter route bypassing shrinagar and saving almost 2 hrs. While the previous 2 days we were follwing the course of Bhagirathi and Ganga, now we were driving along the Alkananda. Prayag means confluence and in Karanprayag, the Pindari river meets the Alaknanda. On the way is Rudraprayag where the Mandakini meets Alaknanda and continue further as Alaknanda to meet the Bhagirathi at Deoprayag. This confluence, where the greenish blue water of Bhagirathi can be clearly diffrentiated from the grayish brown waters of the Alaknanda, is the actual Ganga which then flows down the hills and meets the plains at Haridwar. It was dark by the time we reached Karanprayag and we were tired and eager to get a good night's rest. Nothing much to do here except to take a night halt at the GMVN TRH and then proceed towards Badrinath.

26/05/10

Karanprayag to Badrinath 150kms.

The drive to Badrinath even though just 150kms, takes 6 to 7 hrs as the roads are narrow and in a bad shape in certain parts after Joshimath. Also, because they are narrow vehicular movement is permitted only in one direction at a time, so we landed getting stuck in places for 1-2 hrs. Having left Karanprayag at 8.30am we reached Badrinath tired and hungry at around 5.00 in the evening. Fortunately our guest house was located close to the temple and we had a lovely panaromic view of the temple from our room itself.

The relief of reaching our destination and the pleasure of seeing our hotel's location evaporated after some time when we realised that our hotel didnt provide bath or hand towels and we would have to wait in the queue for about 5 hours to avail the Lord's darshan. After enquiries we found that by availing of certain pujas by paying for them, we could access the Lord by a different gate and bypass the queue, which we gladly booked for the next morning at 6 am.

The temple itself is beautifully located above the Alaknanda river, in midst of the snow peaks of Nar and Narayan range. The narrow alleys towards the temple is lined by shops selling the usual religious cassettes, CDs, photos and rudrakshas. In fact the colorfully painted temple looks more beautiful when lit at night.We spent the evening strolling in the market and by the riverside. After an early dinner, went to bed as we planned to get up at 5 am next day for our sojourn with Lord Badrinath.

27/05/10

Badrinath Darshan
Got up at 4 am. Had mixed feelings throughout the night. The excitment of our hotel's location had worn off and to be frank, the sound of temple bells and chants which sounded so soothing initially, disrupted my much desired sleep. With the long, tiring journey, all I wanted was a sound sleep. I was just faliing into a deep slumber when I was awakened at around 4 am by the haunting chants of MS Subbalaxmi's Vishnusahasranama. That ended the story of my sleep, but surprisingly I was feeling fresh and eager to go for our morning puja. We got an easy entry inside the temple, but again had to wait in the queue and took us about an hour to gain entry into the sanctum santorium. I must admit that I am more of a atheist and I undertook this journey more as a vacation in the Himalayas and to beat the Mumbai heat rather than a religious trip! But seeing the hordes of pilgrims who throng Badrinath, some in tattered clothes, braving the cold and who probably saved their lifetime's earning to come here and then wait for hours in the queue, I felt there was something magical in the place to attract so many people from all over India for centuries. With these feelingsI sat for the Puja and had a 15 min darshan of Lord Badrinath. Surprisingly I came out feeling good and blessed. And I wondered how much all those who come here with so much of faith and belief must be feeling!

Our next destination was Mana village, about 3 kms from Badrinath which is a tourist place by virtue of it being the last Indian village before the Tibetan territory starts.

Once an important trading village on the old Indo Tibetan Highway,it is now inhabited for only 6 months in a year. After the Chinese invasion of Tibet the villagers lost their major source of livelihood and now earn their living by weaving woollen. A few places of interest here include the Vyasa and Ganesh Gufas (caves), where apparently the Mahabharata was dictated by Rishi Vyasa to Lord Ganesha.

A waterfall here which forms a small river and flows for about 1/2 a km before meeting the Alaknanda is the source of the mystical river Saraswati.

We then continued on our way to our final destination Auli.
27/05/10
Badrinath to Auli

Auli is beautiful ski resort about 12kms from Joshimath and turned out be an ideal place to unwind after our hectic travel of the last 5 days. It is an army cantonment area and apart from 2 resorts there is nothing else to do in this season except laze around and vegetate.

GMVN's resort here was by far, easily the best of all the places we had stayed so far. It was surrounded by snow peaks (Nandadevi, Nandadevi east, Nanda kot, Trishul) on almost all the sides and we were greeted by clear blue skies interspered by white fluffy clouds and white wild flowers blooming all over the place. Our room had a balcony, so we spent the evening sitting in the balcony and watching the snowy mountain peaks. As the sun set, rain clouds gathered overhead and over the next few minutes completely covered the peaks as if a grey curtain had descended down shutting off the view. I was eagerly hoping for clear skies in anticipation of a glorious, colorful sunset, but alas it was not to be as dark clouds loomed overhead.

28/05/10

Auli

Woke up to misty morning with a slight drizzle, the after effects of the previous evenings weather. After sometime, the mist cleared, exposing the clear blue skies. The sun shone brightly on the droplet covered flowers giving me a good photo op. Afternoon was spent lazing in the balcony listening to dil dhundta hai and hari hari vasundhara. Flies were the only one's troubling me and after some time the lethargy seeped in so much that I was loathe to even shoo them away. By late afternoon, dark clouds had again started gathering and the sun was playing hide and seek with them. We decided to go for a small hike behind our resort to the place where the cable car from Auli to Joshimath starts. It was a steep 200 meter climb and by the time we reached the top we were left hasping for breath, but the magnificient, unobstructed 360 degrees view of the Himalayas made the climb worth every breath. We couldn't help wondering how it must be on a clear day. We found a small flat grass covered clearing and lay on it to catch our breath and looked up to the sky and watched as the dark clouds gathered. It was a feeling I can't describe in words. My thoughts were disrupted by the distant rumble of thunder which grew in intensity and it started to drizzle again as we ran down the slope and covered the distance in less than half the time it took us to come up. By late evening, the drizzle had transformed into a thunderstorm and we had our experience of thunder, lightening and hailstorm in the Himalayas.

29/05/10

Auli to Rishikesh.

Our last day in the Garhwal Himalayas. It was to be another long drive about 280kms and down from an altitude of 2500m at Auli to 310m at Rishikesh. We bid adieu to the mountains as we drove through the winding roads, following the Ganga and the snow peaks of the Nandadevi range fading fron our vision, leaving only memories behind.

As we neared Rishikesh, we saw a lot of riverside camps and rafters enjoying the white water rafting as it is called and were vert tempted to try our hand at one, but our tight schedule prevented us this pleasure.

Back in Rishikesh, we explored the Laxman Jhulla area and were pleasantly surprised to find a lot of eating joints which we had not noticed 8 days back. We shopped for Rudrakshas and other memorablia. Sipping coffee and eating Pastries at CCD (Cafe Coffee Day) made us feel at home after eating Dal/ Rice and Alu Gobi for the past whole week.

Thoughts and tips:

Hotels in all these places have very basic amenities. Most of our stay was in GMVN hotels. The only good thing to be said about them is their location. The staff is lethargic and housekeeping pathetic. Less said about food the better. One thing I should not forget here is the number of times we thanked 'Maggi' for, if it were not for Maggi my son would have gone hungry a few times. Maggi is surprising omnipresent is all the places right from roadside dhabas to better off restuarants. The private hotels are also basic, but the staff go out of their way to make you feel comfortable.

Some hotels like the one in Harshil and Badrinath did not have bath towels and we had not anticipated this, so I leave it to your imagination as to how we must have coped up with it. So be prepared!!

The people everywhere are friendly and honest, unlike what is expected in touristy places. Or I presume we were fortunate enough not to encounter any notorious elements. On the whole it was a fantastic and memorable journey and back in the hustle and bustle of Mumbai, it seems like we have just come home from another world. Truely a heavenly abode!!