Click Zoom Snap

2009-06-24T03:58:00.000-07:00

May 12th - Day 1 in Cannes

2009-05-12T12:02:00.000-07:00

An artist making a sand sculpture at the Riviera/ Croisette beach..

Ok. blogging from Cannes, reporting live about the happenings here.

The Palais and the surroundings is bustling with activity. Contractors running to and fro, laying of the red carpet, barricades for the public and the parparazzi are being set up. The hotels around, the Majestic, Carlton and Hilton have been decked up with larger than life cut-outs and posters. The D-day is tomorrow when the place becomes filled with the who's who of the World film industry attending the screening. What am I doing here? Well, just got a tad lucky to be here ;)

The place during the festival becomes so expensive. The apartment I am staying 10 min from the Palais costs an atrocious 300 Euros per day and yet is cramped up.. I am told the cost to book this place in any other time is around 80-100 Euros.

Nothing much to do here right now, so i will get the accreditation done, have food and beer with a couple of good friends and click some snaps and post it here.

Till then.. au revoir!!

Rishikesh - Rapidfire Action!!!

2008-10-10T04:31:00.000-07:00

Under the sheet of a starry sky,
We bade our worries goodbye.
Away from reality, it seemed
A distant dream fulfilled.

The arms of the flowing river
Tossed us far up into air,
All squealing in laughter,
Our hearts filled with joy.

We jumped from a cliff,
We where swept in a whiff
We slept in the sand
Caressed by mother’s hand

We lived like there is no tomorrow
We laughed like there is no sorrow
We walked on the sands of the river bank
Where there were no trails to follow.

If you have not taken a risk in your life, you probably have never lived in your entire life. Few people who have dared to take this risk will tell you how true this is. The experience of risking all, engraves moments in your heart that will make you smile till eternity.

DAY 1
Our trip to Camp Rapidfire began in the wee hours of the morning. We left from Gurgaon at 5.30 in the morning. The entire gang was finally picked up from Connaught Place and we were on the road by 7.00 on the way through Ghaziabad, Meerut, Roorkee, Haridwar and Rishikesh, with many stops in between for the growling stomach and the overflowing bladder. The roads were all bumpy and it always seemed that the better side of the road was on the other side. The car whizzed past sugarcane plantations, canals and intermittent towns, which were bustling with activity in its markets. The intermittent misspelled English hoardings, instructions and warnings gave us a reason to smile and the nonsensical fights between Udit, Gurjeet and Karan made us wonder about the various hidden mysteries of life.

As the long winding roads on the hill overlooked at the Ganges far below, the rapids looked considerably small and the river seemed friendly. The height was unprecedented and there was no sense of scale. The waves looked tiny and made me think that it was easy to tame it. Well, it was only time that revealed who tamed who!

We were already late by a few hours and Shane informed us that we would be going for rafting directly from Marine Drive and later head to the camp. Rafting activities had to be closed on the river by 5.00 PM. We reached Marine Drive at about 3.00 PM. The first activity here was to sign away our lives disclaiming any responsibility on the organizers if we lost our lives! Phew! It was so heartening to hear that we are solely responsible for our own death. Gave me a belief that this procedure would build accountability into employees if this method was adopted for corporate organisations.

We were then handed over safety gears, a life jacket, helmet and an oar. Hari da and Deepu were our guides for the rafting trip. They were our saviors in case we were swept away in the currents which now, that we were close to it looked to be at a speed of 50 to 60 km per hour. Hari Da is a veteran in river rafting for the past twenty years, and Deepu, a national level kayaking champion. The team then was neatly divided and within no time we were in the water. Hari da first spotted the swimmers and the non-swimmers. So that I know who to rescue first in case of a capsize, he would tell us later at the bonfire. A couple of exercises, Forward paddle, Backward paddle, stop… etc, later we were asked to jump into the water. This was for everyone, including the nn swimmers to know how it would be if they were thrown into the water, that they were safe. The water was chilling. It must have been approximately 6 degrees. After floating for a while we were on our way to the baby rapids. The waves that we had seen from the top as tiny waves were in fact magnanimous in its size. The first rapids were named as ‘The Glasshouse’ and ‘Black Money’. A little while later came the ‘Three blind mice’ which were three consecutive rapids. The name was due to the fact, Hari da tells us that the patter on the waves keep changing in the three rapids making it difficult to navigate. It became quite evident at this point that we were just hitting the paddles into the water, but it was Hari da, who was controlling the entire raft with two big oars in the back. The Tree blind mice rapids were huge enough for everybody to gulp down water of the ganges. After this was a long course of plain water where everyone body surfed before we reached the shore. After a drive back to the camp we trekked down around a kilometer to reach the white, pristine beach which had a row of tents put up towards the mountain, where we all parked our bags and hit to the sand. The food was amazing an the drinks overflowing. Shane and Hari da joined us telling us about the exploits of the ganges and the perils in rafting.

April 7, is termed as a ‘High alert day’ along the river. Almost every year, there HAS been a casualty(read deaths) in the river, either someone drowning or a leopard attack. Shane later explained us with exquisite detail how it is mostly swimmers who drown as they try to save themselves using their knowledge of swimming. Apparently, swimming in the rivers and in a pool is very different from each other. Hari da said that he could easily navigate through the river water but if he was put in a swimming pool, he would probably drown. Shane explained to us that the following day we would be doing the “Golf Course” which had nine consecutive rapids. There were huge chances of capsizing. Even more so the ‘Wall’ would also be challenging as all the rafts that had attempted it on the day had capsized. Post dinner it was all games and fun at the bonfire. Splashing up the early sleepers and recounting humorous stories of the past led us into the dark night under the starry sky.

DAY 2
The earling morning bought in the fog that was illuminated by the lanterns that burnt through the night outside our tents. Many of us preferred to sleep outside the tents under the sky. An hour later , started the game of beach volleyball after which Shane called us for breakfast after which we were to do the Grade III and IV rapids. A wonderful breakfast and an hour later, we left for the place we had finished yesterday. The team remained the same. Stories from the last night trickled into our minds. Some of us changed positions. I became the High tider. The High Tider is the one who has to push the front of the raft down and his responsibility was to drink a lot of water. I think the high tider has the best view of the raft, as the raft dives into the wall of water, the exhilaration and the excitement it generates is tremendous. The first rapid was ‘Rollercoaster’. There were two rafts ahead of us. Hari da jokingly told us, you might get to see how a raft topples. Everyone fixed their gaze at the other two rafts. The two other rafts went to the side indicating Hari da to take on the rapids first. The tables had turned. We would be the first one to ride the rollercoaster rapid. And probably we would be the first one to capsize too! Soon, huge walls of water came dashing into the raft and within no time we were out of the rapid. Everyone was fine and everyone was inside the raft.

Later came two gentle rapids called ‘Clubhouse’ and the ‘T-off’. Well it was not gentle, but the rollercoaster had prepared us for more difficult stuff. T-off was the rapid which then led us to the Golf course. All of us got off the raft and went along with Hari da to read the rapids. The other guides from other rafts joined him. Hari Da gave instructions. Get into the rapids sideways to the left of the stream. You should be fine. Within no time we were in the rapids. Huge walls of water came crashing into the raft, this time waves bigger than the earlier ones. The time we were in the rapids were longer. Waves after waves hit the rafts trying to topple it, but Hari da wouldn’t let go. All the other paddlers screamed and paddled hard, all the synchronization thrown far away by the unruly rapids. Soon we were out of the rapids intact. We turned aound to look at other rafts. All of them made it without capsizing. The smile on Hari da’s face showed that he was glad everyone was out of the rapids safely. Then came the cliff jumping. A cliff 20- 30 feet high beckoned all of us to make the jump. Looking down from that height, the calm water looked as if it was waiting to gulp its next prey. I then let go off myself into the water. I felt my arms ripping apart. Unknowingly, my arms had spread apart as it hit the water. In no time I was on the surface checking my arms which had gone red at the impact. Swimming next to the raft, as I inspected my red arms, I hear someone shouting out. Vikrant was being swept away in the flow of the water and he had reached quite far. Shane dived into the water and pulled him to the raft by his life jacket. Vikrant was shivering as he was pulled on to the raft. Shane was a hero that day. One miscalculation and lack of attention could have changed the rest of the day for all of us. Later we all rowed to the shore and then drove back to the camp. The food smelled great and all of us went hogging around as if we were hungry for years. Slowly each part of our body started aching, making its presence felt. Some of us lazed around the tents while some of us tied ourself to ropes and went body surfing into the ganges. In the evening it was time for some rock climbing. A 20 ft rock was our target. Many of us did it with ease. The highlight of the climb being that of Gurjeet who took 25 minutes to cross a certain point. His tummy was coming in between, he promsed he will ‘try’ to reduce his beer drinking habit!

In the night everyone got back to the camp and Hari da organized camp games called levitation and also a round of truth or dare. Another game was the boat race which involved drinking beer bottoms up in succession by two different teams. The truth and dare extended into the night and after dinner, everyone crashed into a deep slumber.

DAY 3
The morning was lazier than the day before. Each of our body parts aching for rest. A minimum of 8 people were required to do the Wall, but the number did not add up. So we had to be content to see other rafts doing the wall. Some of us went up the road to watch the rafts doing the wall. Far away at the top, the raft looked like dots in the waves. One of the raft toppled down and the guys were swept away. A kayak that had gone along with them was on a rescue operation. The second raft became a bit lighter as two people opted out of the raft prior to the rapids. The only option for the raft was to avoid the rapids as it was sure that it would over turn. The raft went through the side but soon was caught up in the whirlpool and they remained stuck in it. No amount of paddling would rescue them out of it. All of them sat still waiting to be rescued. Shane told us how a girl had got caught in the whirlpool. It took nine hours to rescue her. They had to rapple and pull her up out of the whirlpool.

Risking your life is a way to overcome the fear of loosing your life. And this fear is an emotion that can take years to heal, but yet can be healed in a fraction of a second. Once your fears of loosing your life are conquered; there is nothing far greater to fear of!

Annecy, France

2008-06-20T08:29:00.000-07:00

The Lonavala Trip

2007-11-14T06:27:00.000-08:00

After a long time, it was time to take a break. A break that was needed to introspect on where life was heading, where am i in terms of my dreams that i wanted to achieve. So when the Diwali weekend came, i decided to take off. Diwali has always been like this for me. I would just take off, away from the madness, and explore the interiors of different states. Two Diwali's earlier i had discovered Kollur, Mookambika and there was a huge gap after that. So I decided to go somewhere close, yet a place where few had gone. Kunal and I along with his dog, Sasha were my company. We were meeting after a long long time and wanted to make the most out of it. Kunal had a small get together at their farmhouse on Diwali day, so we had to stay put till the functions got over. So i had to baby sit Sasha, when he wasnt there. Finally on Sunday, we hit the road. In search of the elusive beautiful landscape, which we can aspire to look at every day some day.

We drove down the Old Pune highway. On the right, came a board which mentioned KAMSHET village. Inquisitive, we took a right turn. I had heard about Kamshet village, but i donot remember where, but the name was vivid in my memory. As we drove down we encountered nomads, trekking with their mules. It was a beautiful sight. A group of people walking n the road, with all their belongings they own, on animal backs, including their pets. The cutest was the rooster tied on to a basket, that wuld try to fly out flapping its wings.

We could see the hills at a distance completely covered in green, inviting us. A few winding roads and we opened into a small village junction bustling with activity. People walked in the centre of the roads and there was no use honking. The roads were owned by them, they got the first preference. As we drove ahead, around 15 kms from the highway, we saw a huge wall that was spread before us for many meters. A left from there and a consecutive right and the view that we saw was the most amazing. It was of a dam, Palini dam. Photography was prohbited, and a guard came and started to talk to me in marathi, and i started to talk in gibberish. Finally, he gave up and i took some snaps...

After soaking in the beauty for another 10 min, we decided to explore further. The light was dimming, but we took our chances, and we were glad, we did. After a five minute uphill drive, we came up to a mount which i swear, was the place, i saw my dream house to be built. The beauty was unparallelled and the view breath taking. The clouds had given way to the sunrays to bless a little hill on the horizon, I knew, this is the place i wanted my weekend home.

I had my visions of my home, with a small drive-in, a pool and a study that over looked the view. Check out this link http://gibberishnews.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-dream-house.html
Filled with greed we headed further. A board of 'Girivan' donned the roads. We followed the route and ended up in a place which is being cultivated for weekend homes. Acres of land being sold out for building bungalows and for horticutltural purposes. The cost of half an acre began at 8 lakh rupees, with a valley view. The place was nice, with good security and infrastructure. Kunal was interested in buying a plot there, and inquired about the project, while i walked down with Sasha to the edge of the valley remembering the view i had seen earlier. The image is now on my desktop reminding me about something i aspire for. The journey back was in darkness, but there was a light at the other end of the road...

Cannes - a photo blog

2007-06-05T07:40:00.001-07:00

Old Cannes Street - in the night.
The night is full of aroma of good food and wine.

Old Cannes - Daylight

View from my hotel - A lovely serenading blue

The venue of Cannes MIPTV - Palais de Festivals

All the designer shops are on this street - La Croisette

A million yachts of Billionaires finds its way at this port

View of the Fort with the church - Ville de Cannes

Clocktower on the fort

View of Cannes from the fort

Snaps of paintings in the church

City Art from Ville de Cannes

An enigmatic Sunset

Day - 3: The Sunrise

2006-12-12T23:37:00.003-08:00

16th March 2006

I was awakened in the night by the breeze that whispered through the little openings in the window. I went out and the moon was just in the place the sun was in the evening. I looked at my watch. It was 3 in the morning. Behind, the other two guys also were not able to sleep, so we dcided to trek up to Sarvagnyapeetham. There was enough moonlight for us to climb.

The only thing we had to be careful were snakes. So we set off, armed with a camera and our mobile phone acting as a torch. Though there was no mobile range here, there was enough light in the screens to show us the way. As we trekked up in the darkness, we lost our way twice. The detours led us into a bush where there was no way ahead, and the second time, it led us to an edge of the cliff. Thanking the moonlight, we retreated back to the fork which led us nto the wrong direction. The third path was the right one. Slowly trudging on the cobbled path, we reached the top. It took us around 45 minutes to reach there.

To our surprise, we saw many people around the little shrine that was built of worn out stones. Some were asleep while some were meditating. “Are they sanyasis, or are they naxalites I was being told about?” There was not a stir amongst them as we passed by them. We went behind the little structure and the scene was to be seen to be believed. The full moon was high up in the sky bathing the valley below, which looked like an ocean of clouds that had just frozen in time. On the opposite side was a horizon bathed in pink and mauve and blue. Suddenly there was a flurry of electronic sounds on my mobil phone. There were messages from the earlier day, wishing a Happy Holi. I pressed the buttons on my fone and smsd all my important friends. Once the messages had gone, the range of the mobile failed. We were back alone on the mountains. one with the universe, the sun, the moon and the beauty that surrounded us.

As time ticked by, the moon was setting and the sun was rising. At almost the same time, the wonders of the world that are displayed every day, coincided, only to be experienced by a privileged few. Maybe, it was for this experience, I was here. Maybe, the people around me were just guides for me to reach there to experience the miracle called life.

The experience was one of the most sacred and spiritually awakening experience after my trip to the Himalayas. As I closed my eyes to feel the atmosphere, a feeling of calm swept into my heart. A feeling that cannot be explained, but it was a feeling that would remain distinct in my life forever. Perched high on the mountain I realized, it takes hard work, dedication and persistence to reach to the top. On the way, we find resistence, hurdles, problems… We might trudge the wrong path which can take us to impending disasters or dead ends. It is upon us to know when to retreat, take steps backwards and go on the right path again. At the end, when you look back from the top, the world is the most beautiful, the most exorbitant, and the little problems, hurdles and resistance are nothing but a mere fiction of imagination which challenges us to reach to the top. In the end, only if you deserve to be at the top will you be at the top, and there is no one who will stop you from reaching there except yourself!

I would not continue about my climb down, for it is nothing extraordinary, except that the extraordinary feeling that I carried back from the top. A light breakfast, a heavy lunch, a rocky ride later, I reached my hometown, back into obscure reality that looked more like a nightmare I would like to forget while the trek on the mountain remained etched as a dream that I will remember forever.

THE MORNING IMAGES

As the clouds cleared...

The Sun-kissed Valley

View from the room

The little pond next to the Bhatts house overlooking into the valley

Day 2 - Trekking up the mountain

2006-12-12T05:08:00.000-08:00

15th March 2006

Surprisingly, I woke up at 6. Never before in recent memory have I ever woken up at 6 feeling so fresh. Probably, the oxygen reaching to my brain was much more than the oxygen available in Bombay. Promising Rajan and my badimaa, that I would not be trekking up the mountain, I left with badepapa. “Badepapa, I will be trekking up Kutachadri” I told badepapa. He smiled back “I know you will” He got down at a bus stop and I waved him good bye. The bus rocked its way to Kundapur bus stand, the next stop to switch to a bus headed to Kollur.

I looked around. A few people made the bus look relatively full. All of them silent, dancing in rhythm to the potholes in the road. Ahead in the seat reserved for ladies, there were two old ladies with dark glasses, probably they might have had a cataract operation, both of them dressed in a green saree and flowers planted in their hair. It looked as if both of them were twins and completely controlled by a remote control. Whenever the bus stopped, they would look in the direction of the door and as the bus started, they would turn back almost simultaneously and rock again in similar patterns to the rocking of the bus. With most of the passengers women, there was hardly anything to observe except women. Almost all the women had flowers in their hair, from anything as simple as a hibiscus flower to gajra, the flowers formed a day-to-day regular head gear for the women. The bus stopped at Kundapur.

Alternatively, if you want to go to Kutachadri, you can also come from Mumbai, get down at Kundapur station and rick it up to the bus stand. There are busses every 30 minutes from here to Kollur. Talking in a mix of English and Malayalam and Hindi, I managed to spot out the bus that headed to Kollur. You could ask the same with three words… “Kollur… bus… kidhar???” You will be shown the bus. It takes another hour from here to Kollur.

The bus was relatively empty. A few women chatting in some language, probably kannada and two guys behind me. I dug myself into Tokyo cancelled again… It was a new story, about how a girl got transformed into a store using a cookie mixed with some milk.. After another rocking ride, the bus stopped.

A mountain stood towering ahead of me. The top looked like a summit of Everest, though the trek was one of the most simplest ones. But what made it more interesting was the challenge of going up there alone. Tigers, Naxalites, robbers… the odds of meeting danger was more with meeting people who did not have best interests in mind, I thought. I had a quick visit to the temple. The temple was beautiful, with nicely carved chariot that donned the entrance. I was told that the same day the chariot festival began. I took out the digital camera and started clicking.

I must tell you this, I was now scared to walk up the summit alone. There was a fear in my mind. Fear of being robbed, being torn down to shreds, fear of a snake bite in the middle of the forest. But more than anything, I had to go up there. I walked up to a jeep driver. For your information, there are jeeps that take you up there and get you back down for Rs. 190/ per person. But you have to have atleast 8 people with you. He gave me a figure of 1200. I walked down to the bus stop. I called up home, telling that there were people with me, so they did not have to worry about me going alone. A bus went past. I had missed the bus. I called up Karan, and told him the truth, lest anything happens, someone had to know the truth. I called up Suresh and told him there were two doctors along with me. (I had no clue, why I told him this, and that too, two DOCTORS?) At 2.00 there was another bus. It took me to the stop from where it was a 12 km trek up the mountain. The bus passed. I waited on the road for full 5 minutes. Not a single person in sight! A monkey jumped from one tree to the other as if it was giving a message to someone that I am coming. This was the point of no return. Once I go in, there was no looking back.

So taking a deep breath, I took my first steps into the wide path that lead into the forest. With trees tall as 100 feet donning both the sides, the forest sounded full of sweet chirpings of some birds. An animal that looked like a cross of a mongoose and a squirrel crossed the way. By the time I aimed the camera at the animal, it had disappeared and all that remained was a brisque movement of the bushes. The tension that was in my heart, eased down a bit. The loneliness of the space intrigued me, and gave a sense of calmness beyond apprehension.

The suns rays trickled down beneath the dense tree cover. And suddenly the path opened into a huge clearing and the two guys who I had seen on the bus from Kundapur to Kollur and later in the temple, sat there. Somehow, deep down in my sub conscious, I had a feeling that their destination was as good as mine on the day. Perhaps, it was a part of a plan. I was indeed not to go there alone! I thought of walking past them, since this was my own quest. But something stopped me and I introduced myself. We exchanged pleasantries. They had the same plan as I did. Go up Kutachadri, stay the night and leave next morning. It looked as if everything was a part of a broader plan. So we walked together.

So we spoke, spoke about what we do. And that was when I had another shock. They both were doctors! Doctors from Trichur! Just as I had informed Suresh. Somehow, that is when I realized there was an entire force working for me to get there. Everything seemed fitting in well into its place. Just like it was meant to be. On the way we clicked more photographs, sometimes of a dry tree and sometimes of little red berries that bunched in an insignificant little plant creeping up the trunk of the tree.

On the way around an hour after we had started the trek came a little shop. In the middle of nowhere, there lay a shop. With a little garden around it. There was a dish antenna in the centre of the vegetable garden. An old frail woman came out. She offered us tea and bananas. The tea was cold and the banana old. Rs. 9 was the bill. I asked whether they had electricity. They didn’t. I asked how they managed to have a television without electricity. She pointed upwards as if to God. I saw solar panels decked on top. There was a pipe bringing water from the top reservoir. It would dry up in a month, she said and then she would have to walk an hour down to the nearest village to get a pot of water. There were two more houses around, she informed. And that is why they built a school in the vincinity. A teacher would come for two days in a week to teach their children, 8 in all including the close by houses. We left them saying we should stop by during the return next morning.

The climb, now got steeper. Huge fallen trees with chameleons camoflagued on it awaited us. Carefully we climbed the steps, occasionally stopping for a breath of fresh air and a gulp of H2O.

Many times the little path would divide into two. We would follow our instincts. On going ahead we realized both the paths lead to the same point. The path we skipped always seemed to be the easier way, just like our lives, we always think, if we had done this some other way, it would have been easier. But the moral of the story was, it was never supposed to be easy. If we had taken the other way, probably we would have felt that the route we missed was easier. That is the way the mind plays tricks on us when you are tired, always.

From the heavy trekking in the woods, again the path opened to an entirely open valley. The valley was full of dry grass. Rakhin and Sujith mentioned that during the rainy season, the entire valley was completely green with grass as tall as 8 feet. “We could hardly see the way, he said, and while on top, the valley was full of rare flowers.”

As I turned to look back, it was a breath taking view. I grabbed my camera and snapped as many snaps as I could. I looked through the viewfinder and saw the figure of a man with a beard created by the light and shadows on the rock. Clicked some more. The last stretch was the most difficult stretch. Probably, because of the tiredness of walking for so long and the lack of practice of walking. As we crawled towards the top, which now looked like a summit, the sun started moving down very fast. Soon there were steps in front of us. Water flowing down the steps as if it was a cascaded waterfall, which later we came to know as a leaking pipe. On top was a little hut, which was a hotel cum house of a poojari and a temple. Further down there was another small temple with a bigger house that had a naturally formed pool next to it.

As we rose the steps and had the view of the shop, we hurried asking for water. They said they had buttermilk. We were more than happy to gulp two glasses each. Two glasses were enough for us to regain our senses. Another glass for the vice. I turned around, and the scene was the most spectacular, I had ever seen in my life. The sun sinking into the horizon, slowly.

As the sun set, it was a time we decided to have a bath in the pond. We stripped and jumped in. The view from the pond was even more spectacular. When in my life had I ever imagined, bathing in a pond, on a mountain, just on the brink of a beautiful valley and watching the Sun go down and the misty cloud enter the valleys? As the sun went down, the water got chillier and my fingers numb. So we climbed out and headed to the rooms where we changed. By the time we came out, there was another enthralling landscape ahead of us.

The valleys covered with snow and a full moon that had risen in the back kissed the landscape in shades of greys and whites. Being limited by a Digital camera, I felt momentarily that the digital camera was a curse. I couldn’t take a snap of it, but then I realized, in life there are some things special, just for you, for your hard work, for your efforts. These rewards cannot be shared with anyone, and this, was the essence of the place. I sat there alone looking into the vastness of the silence that enveloped me. After a long time, I felt, I was with myself. My thoughts started running up my mind, the sequence the events had occurred. My mothers hesitation, my getting to the airport late, S's worry on my going alone, my bade papa’s talk about naxalites, Rajan’s strict warnings, bade ma’s pleas of not going up. And then I remembered the series of events when I left home. The lucky ride to the airport that got me on time, the trip with the weird guy from Mangalore airport to Udupi, the craving of climbing up the mountain, and the decision to do it alone, the meeting of two new friends and the trek itself. Everything was so breathtaking. I wished I could carry the feeling to all the people I cared for. I tried to connect the entire episodes that had transpired to the philosophy of life.

The reason people are afraid to scale new heights on their own, is the fear of unknown. Every one tries to dissuade themselves to go up unchartered territories in the fear of losing. Only once you go through the entire climb in life do you realize, there was absolutely nothing to fear at all, except for the hesitation to take the first step. Once the first step is taken, the entire journey of life is just amazing, like a trek. You get tired, you feel why you did it. Midway, you might think of going back, but the fact remains that, you have to go to the end to enjoy the fruits of your hardships. There is no shortcut for that!

The two temples on the top of the mountain are taken care by two different sects. The temple at the entrance is taken care by the Vanglis while the other temple is taken care by the Bhatts. The temple taken care by the Vanglis has the thrishul, that killed the Mookasura embedded and now emboldened in concrete. The temple taken care by the Bhatts are in fact the temple of the Himalayas fame that has traveled three yugas in mythology.

As the moon climbed higher, the air grew colder. So finally I decided to cuddle up in the blanket provided. A word of caution, do not expect 5 star treatment. These rooms are hardly used and hardly dusted. 300 Rs. looks like a bomb. A wonderful plate of home cooked food was served by the pujaris of the temple downstairs after which we went off to sleep.

Day - 1: Departing from Mumbai

2006-12-12T04:53:00.000-08:00

14th March 2006

I had got up early in the morning. To be honest, I had hardly slept. My adrenalin was running high, thinking about the trek and my visit to my bade papa. My flight to Mangalore was at 1.10 P. M. So I decided to pop in to the office and then leave. It was hard for my heart to leave my office. I dropped in the office and then hitched a ride on a bike to the airport. Dodging the traffic I reached the airport just in time! It was another story that Bhushan (the biker) was frisked by the police at the airport while I shamelessly took off. Armed with a haversack and the book of Tokyo cancelled, I waited for the flight to take off. Though the stories in the book were gripping, it hardly kept its grip on my mind, the enthusiasm constantly wearing the grip off. So I decided to pack it up and have a look around and take some time off to see what the world was up to.

The flight landed at Mangalore as scheduled at 2.30. I walked out of the airport, that reminded me of the old railway station in my village buzzing with little activities and cab owners shouting out in a heavily kannada-accented tone of English. With private taxis parked all around, I made my way through the hustle bustle outside the confines of the airport to find a cheaper way of transport. (Being from Bombay, I would not trust the taxi drivers, about their rates and their intentions) But alas, the place was in the middle of nowhere. I had to take a taxi. There are prepaid taxis available all the time, but when I heard their charges, I was zapped. Rs. 340 to Mulkhi which was a place 32 kms away from the airport. Mulkhi is a place that borders on the National Highway NH17. From here there was a bus every 5 minutes to Udupi and Brahmavar. I wandered around, checking the place. A man stood lonely in a corner, with his eyes pinned on his mobile. He would dial a number and keep the phone next to his ear and then out of disgust, disconnect it and redial again. I struck a conversation with him. Not very friendly, he tried to avoid. If not anything else, I could atleast talk to him about understanding the basic way to reach Barkur and the costs associated. He said he had to go to Udupi, but the taxi fare was Rs. 680.

“Why not share the taxi fare? We can both get to udupi at the cost of reaching Mulkhi!”

He was apprehensive of the offer. He looked away and then towards me.

“Okay, but I will sit behind and you will sit with the driver” he said.

Worked for me. God knows what he had in mind. Neverthless, the drive was another hour long and we were at Udupi by 4 o’clock. Rajan, badepapa’s son called up on the mobile. He had arranged for a pickup at Brahmavar bus stand. I was a little disappointed. There was once a bridge that used to connect the town of Brahmavar with Barkur, which had collapsed. So, to reach Barkur, I would have had to take a ferry that took me across a river and then a bus ride to badepapa’s home. With an arrangement to pick me up, I would be going by a 45 km ride missing the ferry ride.

In another 30 minutes, I was at Brahmavar bus stand and there was no body around. So I strolled across the road to a small little shop and asked for chai. The shop was a peculiar one. It looked as if it was built around a hand cart. The hand cart lay in its full glory, decorated with little miniature paintings, and a stove and some utensils and racks of eggs. I picked up a packet of chakli and looked around. In a T-shirt and cargo’s and a haversack hugging me tight, I stuck out in the immediate landscape like a sore thumb. People were looking at me as if I was in a zoo. I dug out Tokyo Cancelled and tried to avoid the stares being thrown at me.

The story was interesting. A story about a millionaire in Delhi who himself separates his kids… The phone rang. Rajan was standing at the bus stand. I spotted him and then hopped on to the car and my journey continued.

Before I reach badepapa’s house, here is a word of caution. He loves dogs. There are four of them. Four dogs who bite. I knew he loved dogs. He loved ME too! As the car entered the verandah of the house, I realized nothing had changed in the last two decades. The place was untouched by pollution of the human mind. Except for the pump house near the well and the solar panels attached on the mangalore tiled roof everything was the same. The living area had a huge cloth with a painted tiger on it, while on the other end, there were two posters of tiger cubs, guarding the way into a internal room. The dogs barked, marking my arrival. Thankfully they were all chained. It was already dusk. He had gone to his dispensary and would be back by 7.30, Rajan said. I sat there saying a few hellos to my bua and her servant, who appeared to have known me since I was two years old. According to her I just looked the same. (Was I 6 feet tall when I was two years old?) Later as they got back to their chores, I buried myself into the story of the billionaire with a gifted child locked in a tall tower.

At precisely 7.30, badepapa arrived. After that we spoke for hours. I told him and Rajan that I intended to climb up Kutachadri. Rajan replied an immediate profound no. There are naxalites in these places, he said. There was an attempt to bomb the Mookambika temple which was foiled and these naxalites are hidden at Kudachadri. My bua also got paranoid. She told me not to go there. Rajan was ready to accompany me to Mookambika and back so as to ensure that I would not climb the mountain ‘alone’. Good thing that he had work of preparing a botanical garden in the name of my grandfather at Barkur railway station, he could not accompany me. I assured them that I would spend the night at Kollur itself and wont trek up.

Kudajadri - An Introduction

2006-12-12T04:33:00.000-08:00

When people write travelogues, they are basically about the place they visit, what is available, how you can get there and where you can stay and for how much. This travelogue, that I would be writing, however is not about where you can stay and how to get there, but what I learnt when I got there and how things along the way unfurled in a series of experiences that made my journey memorable. What I might be writing might be of little importance and mundane daily things, but I believe, if we all open our eyes to every little thing that happen around us, it can give us little clues of what happens next. Sounds a bit ridiculous? It might.

How many times have you seen little birds, a rainbow, butterflies (those who know me know about my obsession for butterflies!!) flowers, a smile on some strangers face who just passed by? I believe quite a few people might ever see these things. Not anybodies fault. After all, every one has there own problems to deal with and how does one take notice of such insignificant things in life around us, whence we ourselves are in deep shit. Take a break. Like I did. Ever since the year 2003, when I had gone to Spiti in the Himalayas, I was raring to go to some place where I could feel one with myself, and thus with the world. And it had to be an occasion like a good friends Suresh’s wedding to take that much needed break. But there was something even more special about this break. I had taken just one day out, to be with myself. And this day I would be trekking up the mountain of Kutachadri in Karnataka. The trip was combined with some personal visits too, people whom I hadn’t met in years. My bade papa I hadn’t met in 14 years! And to say he was my favorite bade papa! Life in the city does this to us.

I had been here before with two friends earlier and was enthralled by the journey and the amazing vistas that lay on the way. During the earlier trek, an unseasonal shower had occurred and the lightning in the clouds had happened below our eye level. It was a scene to be seen to be believed.

Historically, Kutachadri is a very important landmark in Indian mythology. Though I couldn’t gather any written evidence on this, a story I have heard from my grandmother and the pujari in Kutachadri temple is worth an ear.

Kutachadri has its place in mythology since the Tretayuga. During the Tretayuga, this mountain was in the Himalayan ranges. The Saptarishis had under taken penance for several days and Goddess Saraswati had appeared pleased with their penance. The temple was present since then.

During the Ramayana, when Hanuman carried the Himalayas to Lanka in search of the jhadibhuti, a piece of the mountain fell in the state of Karnataka. During Kaliyuga, Adi Shankaracharya, identified this place with his divya drishti and trekked up through the jungles and installed the deity and worshipped the Gods. It is also the place where Adi Shankaracharya achieved his sarva gnyana. The Sarvagyapeetham is still present over the top of the mountain. It was also the place where Parashuram threw his axe and Kerala was formed. Another legend has it that the evil Mookasura was killed by Goddess Mookambika at the same place. The thrishul which killed Mookasura is still present in this place.

It is indeed a wonderful place of visit for religious reasons. I would rather use the word spiritual reasons. But most of the visitors here are people who visit for religious reasons added with a sense of adventure. The place is nestled in the Mookambika Wild life Sanctuary, so you can expect the presence of wild life around. Probably that was the reason why my mother tried hard to dissuade me from trekking up the hill alone.

Sunrise at Kudajadri, Karnataka, INDIA

2006-12-05T04:55:00.001-08:00

Sunrise at Kudajadri, Karnataka, INDIA
Originally uploaded by clickzoomsnap.

Finally got a way to upload the images and what better way than the snap from Shankaracharya Peetham, at Kudajadri, KARNATAKA

This moment was one of the most pristine moments of my life. Taken during a loner trip to Kollur Mookambika, a 12 km trek from Mookambika temple through hills, grasslands and dense forests. On the tip of the mountain, there are two temples, one PWD house, no electricity, no mobile and a little pond that overlooks the valleys...