Clueless

I wanted to write an informational detailed account of some of my recent hiking trips as a helpful 'how to' guide, after all how hard can it be?(ring a bell!)
But what can I say, I had no idea what was the final destination in my last hiking trip, we were just walking it up. Next day I was looking up the route, how far we made it and where was the last milestone. Needless to say I will have to undertake the hike again, so that I can walk back with the smug look of actually reaching the end point and then may be offer some words of advice..

Let me try to paint a picture, imagine two clueless Indians trudging uphill with no idea of how far they are from the end point while regularly coming across gaily retreating Chinese hikers. When you can't communicate, everything seems like a mystery and in this case a Chinese mystery (where were they heading back from, what was at the end of the hike, how close are we).. constant questions and no answers, so clueless!
It was almost sunset hour, and the only website we had referred for our hike research talked about a cop who had gone missing somewhere along the trail. Although I couldn’t fathom how, because it was a paved road and there were green taxis going up and down along the road ferrying passengers back from the mysterious ‘end point’. Perhaps I had researched a different trail and we were hiking on a different route..So much for background research in the information age!

Just today I came across an expression, ‘flying by the seat of one’s pants’, meaning to decide a course of action as you go along, using your own initiative and perceptions rather than a pre-determined plan or mechanical aids, which sounded about right for most hiking trips I have undertaken in HK so far and this one in particular.

I was curious about the origin of this phase and did some research. This is what I found; the phrase traces its root to early aviation parlance.  Aircraft initially had few navigation aids and flying was accomplished by means of the pilot's judgment. Flying by the seat of one's pants was originally a literal (or nearly-literal) phrase, meaning to use all of one's senses -- including lateral and vertical "G forces" transmitted to your derriere through the seat -- to control an aircraft in flight. Also the pilot would feel the side of the seat to tell how the plane was moving. I was glad to discover the roots of the expression and thought to share the gyan along!

Coming back to the afore-mentioned trail, the 100-kilometer MacLehose trail, traverses Hong Kong’s New Territories from sea level to a peak elevation of about 550 meters (1,800 feet). Here is Hong Kong's most varied - and finest - countryside. The east coast, where the Trail begins, is deeply indented and wild. The central mountains, which the MacLehose Trail crosses, include many of Hong Kong's highest peaks. And the western part, where the Trail winds to its end, has impressive valley reservoirs. (Thank you Wikipedia and such)

The MacLehose Trail is divided into ten stages, and we were (unknowingly) attempting the first section-10.6km stretch. This is not a trail but rather a paved road alongside a concrete retaining wall for about 5 kilometers on one side and the aqua waters on the other side. Since we were not in a hurry to reach the end point of the hike, we took a detour from the paved road, climbed down the hilly slope, hopping on tricky stones and boulders to reach level ground by the side of the reservoir.

It is always a good idea to leisurely lie down on your back on a gentle rock and let the sound of gushing water drown the noises in your head and experience the weightlessness of the wind as it blows away your worldly cares. It is also a good idea to pack some juicy oranges for such an afternoon. When our gods (aka Hanumanji) couldn’t resist the orange temptation in the sky, mere mortals like us cannot be blamed for our orange indulgence on a sunny afternoon sun!

Having enjoyed a leisurely break we thought of continuing our journey since everyone else seemed to be briskly marching ahead. At the sight of each panoramic view along the road we had the temptation to stray from the regular route and explore the vista beckoning us. However like prudent travelers we marched onwards in the hope of completing the trail before sundown. Also with no internet connection and scant milestones/directions along the route we had little information, we were just flying by the seats of our pants.

Directions from people walking down the road were of no avail, the 15minute estimated arrival time didn’t quite ring true when we had walked for 30mins and no end was in sight. We tried to track a passing taxi to get some clue about the distance remaining but that also didn’t help us much because the cliff offered a limited view and the taxi just turned around a corner far ahead and disappeared. The thought of getting stranded here away from civilization with no Naan & Palak Paneer for dinner didn’t quite appeal to us and we turned back.

I’ll update this post once I complete the hike. This time I’ll probably have a better idea of our undertaking, the route and the destination. Also the promised details of the route/bus number will also finally make it to the blog..

From what I hear Section 2 of this trail is better and interesting than Section 1, also it sounds a good idea to cover the entire 100km. Guess that’s how life is, one moment you have no clue where you are headed and next you want to walk the entire 100km stretch. Humanity you were always doomed!

Hong Kong Diaries

I sit down to write about my experiences in this new city before the sheen of being a newbie fades out. I am inching slowly to have spent almost two months here, about time to dedicate a post to the new city..

To set the mood, before writing this post, I listened to We're going to be friends-White Strips. I wasn't done, next on my list was Landon Pigg- Falling in love at a coffee shop...
Yes I am professing my love for this city with songs.. I have totally internalized this city's love for 'cuteness'.. hey there 'Hello Kitty!'..
To be honest I am already biased to the city because you are never too far from the hills or from the water. I might have confessed a million times to my good friends(the ones I bore with 100 renditions of same old stories) that I wanted to run by the ocean looking at the hills. When I really found myself running along the harbor, I caught myself smiling at this part of me which occasionally bubbles up with genuine happiness.

When I was moving out of US and going through the tedious affair of packing and selling my things, I thought that perhaps I wasn't going to work this hard any time soon..
And then I moved to HongKong. So I guess you are never done..
My first month in the city was all about apartment hunting, cooking & eating weird broccoli permutations, furnishing the apartment/kitchen, trying to meet new people and make new acquaintances. I am not yet done, still braving weird hot/cold showers every morning- courtesy the 'environment friendly' tankless water heater.
Moving into a new place is always a hassle but local standards, practices and systems can either make things simpler or create complications. Apartment hunting in this city is a revelation, you come face to face with the reality of the over-inflated real estate market prices, tiny apartments that are like those Sunday newspaper puzzles that come crammed in a small box in a corner- and they challenge you to find what's missing...
This city is very modern and efficient on surface but at its core it is a very traditional society, there is a human element in most transaction. For instance your apartment search begins with the brokers, you tag along as they show you a 'lot' of apartments. Each broker/agency will specialize in a neighborhood, so if you are searching a broader area be prepared to talk to multiple brokers. Add the work schedule to this equation and you have some brutal weekends.
When you do find the apartment of your dreams (by this point apartment hunting has already turned into a nightmare)the broker will settle all the legal stuff for you, set up the utilities and put you in touch with the internet agent. For all his services you pay the broker, the internet guy on the contrary would promise you a gift coupon for signing up through him, and well I haven't my gift card yet..(update:I had to go in person to collect it from the store, but I did get it finally!)
I'd say the whole process was very intense and took a few weeks but with some distant friends prodding me through, i did find a place.. and while skyping with my parents all they had to say was, 'this place looks decent than what you had been telling us'.

When people say it is a small world, they usually mean it figuratively, but when I say HK is a small place I am almost speaking literally. I have the worst direction sense and after getting lost a few times, I realized that it is such a small place that you cannot get hopelessly lost. It definitely helps if you know the major roads(generally English names so easy to remember) and also there are multiple modes of transport to get to the destination.  Taxis are a safe bet if you can get a Cantonese speaking friend to do the talking for you or else just walk it up with a GPS in hand.

X who has lived here for few years keeps telling me that this is the most capitalist city in the world and I keep disagreeing. In terms of my simplified view of capitalism, there are two very defining characteristics of capitalism:
a) the enterprising shall have access to capital, ideally-free market forces (the good)
b) the rich keep getting richer and the poor poorer(the bad)
I might agree to the second point, which sadly makes HK a crony-capitalist place. However it is not such a bad picture because of lower corruption levels and the generally honest HongKong populace. HongKong owes its status as world's key financial centre as much to capitalism as to China's communism and the general lack of trust in the Chinese government.
It is the most commercial city no doubt, even Buddha sitting peacefully on a hill-top is not spared, a fake Bodhi wishing tree with redeemable coupons complete the picture.
Its the shopping mecca.. big stores, flashy stores and the stores with flickering neon lights in broad day light. I have not erred much on the shopping side, so can't really comment, I am still grappling with the roti-kapda-makaan paradigm!

My relocation to HongKong coincided with the Occupy Central, pro-democracy protests. I would have to concede that i don't have much experience with protests, I have watched them from sidelines. As a child I witnessed the Uttarakhand state movement, the demand for a separate state to spur development. That vision is far from realized but I would avoid any judgement on the movement.
In the violent times that we live in, we rarely see protests that are inherently peaceful, creative and so young. The HK protest was all of the above. I saw the protest sites where people were peacefully camped and going about their business. Like a naive tourist I took pictures at the protest site and asked questions.  You can be more pragmatic when you are not involved, and despite all the passion and conviction of the protesters i didn't really see the mighty Chinese government conceding ground any time soon. To be honest I wasn't quite sure of what they were hoping to achieve.
I think after I explored the HK University campus on my way to a hiking trail, I accidentally uncovered something very fundamental about the roots of this movement. I was surprised to see video's of the Occupy movement running on TV monitor next to the elevator in the campus. Pro-democracy slogans on the bulletin boards. The campus has a 'pillar of shame' dedicated to the Tiananmen square massacre and the caption there says- "the old cannot kill the young forever". I stood there for a moment trying to capture the mood of the University and somehow I felt like what I witnessed on the streets was brewing and seething in this atmosphere..

This is a rich city(true that!!!) and there is something intricate and almost mysterious about the Chinese culture and psyche, so there is a lot to discover here..

Choices

There are some moments of earnest desperation or perfect clarity when you know what you want from the core of your entire being. These moments are but few.. and the choices span both our personal and professional lives.

Four feet underwater holding your breath for just a moment longer you repeat your deepest wish in your head, you can always trust water to keep your secrets.
In all the theatrics of flashing light and thunderstorms closing your eyes a minute longer you can whisper your deepest wish in a prayer, you can always trust the falling rain to keep your secret.
Standing in the feeble winter sun shivering slightly in the chill of the frozen wind you can rub your hands together in the warmth of your deepest desire, you can always trust winter with your secrets.
Listening to Ludovico Einuanidi’s composition in perfect silence, you can sometimes feel your eyes swell up with tears of your deepest wishes, you can always trust music to be privy to your secrets..

You may or not believe in God, but in that one moment, you surrender to something bigger than you and pray to find ‘your’ way.. I believe this is a very powerful moment when you know with absolute clarity the ‘something’ that you want. You are not just a lost soul who wants someone to show you a way, but every nerve, every bone, and every fiber of your body is alive in the knowledge of what you want..

Sometimes we owe the certainty of our choices based on our familiarity and comfort of knowing and experiencing something over a period of time- the test of time. Other times it is a gut feeling about something completely unknown.

Sometimes people will tell you that they don't exactly know what they want but they have some clue about what they don't want. 'Selection by elimination' is a real thing, this strategy works successfully in competitive exams, so you may as well apply it in life.

At the other end of the spectrum are situations where we seem to be clueless of what choice to make. Opinions may differ here, but I believe deep down everyone knows what they really want. But sometimes making that choice entails a huge risk, it requires courage, faith, going against people we love.. It is a choice between 'the rational'  and 'the emotional', it is this that makes us confused and clueless.

The Architect: There are two doors. The door to your right leads to the Source and the salvation of Zion. The door to your left leads back to the Matrix, to her... and to the end of your species. As you adequately put, the problem is choice. But we already know what you are going to do, don't we? Already I can see the chain reaction: the chemical precursors that signal the onset of an emotion, designed specifically to overwhelm logic and reason. An emotion that is already blinding you to the simple and obvious truth: she is going to die and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

-The Matrix Reloaded

Every moment we are making choices, some consciously others unconsciously. Some easy, some not so easy. We live with choices we make, we live with choice that others make for us, we live with choices life makes for us. It is a fascinating gossamer, every choice tied to the other slowly building the life we live, the relationships we build, the friends we make, just everything..

Morpheus: You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.
-The Matrix
Just like this everything starts, but that moment doesn't give away anything. You have to go all the way down the rabbit hole to understand the choices that you make..

You can either read the blog, or just listen to this piece.. (Its a choice!)

Dreaming Apples!

It was frog green, you might as well call it ugly. It would screech and growl with clenched jaws and still not reach a speed of 40kmph.  It would breathe in fresh pure air of the hills and exhale out dense black fumes from its garbled lungs. It huffed and puffed and belched as it tried to squeeze through narrow serpentine roads overlooking cliffs and valleys and at each hilly turn, all the skinny passengers aboard that bus gingerly clutched any adjacent bars, handles or rods for fear of being rolled off by the mischievous centrifugal force..

The mid-aged fellow behind the wheels looked least bit athletic but he showed sufficient dexterity when he steered the big black steering wheel, carefully manoeuvring the big fat bus around tricky turns and bends.

The bus conductor in turn had a gift of the garb starting instant conversation pertaining to weather (dhoop), potato prices and condition of roads with on-boarding passengers (favorite topic of conversation for Paharis) while tearing out tickets.

Between the two of them they ran a successful courier business, carrying packages back and forth between families living along the bus route and for their services they were well paid- fruits, vegetables, cooked meals, winter clothing and occasionally a pack of cigarettes.

As for the bus route it was an absolute delight, passing through the lower Himalayan ranges with occasional views of the glistening snow capped mountains. Step farming is a common practice here, the green-carpeted stairs look inviting for a jumping match. Tall pine trees, Oak trees and Deodar trees form a dense canopy hiding the elusive sun. Many a dark nights people run into a stray leopard roaming these dense jungles. The route is undoubtedly scenic however each season has a different highlight. In winters there is nothing more inviting than fresh snow-carpeted hills with brightly colored birds hopping and leaving their footprints around. The early spring is the season of fresh green shoots and bright red rhododendron blossoms. The monsoon season ushers in the fruit season- apples, pears, peaches, apricots, plums, strawberries, pomegranate, almonds, some very native fruits like small dark ‘kafal’.. It’s a long list.

This is a magical story of a journey for a little impressionable girl onboard this bus going to her Nani’s home in the hills.  Mesmerized by the pristine beauty, and slightly lightheaded by the circuitous journey she unconsciously drifted into a dreamlike state where her imagination further accentuated reality to create a beautiful tantalizing memory for her adult life.

That monsoon season was very generous to the hills, and the trees were bent with heavy load of fruits. The bus meandered through the narrow road flanked by apple orchards on either side. Sitting tall in the bus she was at a good height to survey the colorful apple trees around. The branches of the apple trees seemed so close that they almost brushed against the bus. A shiny red apple caught her dreamy eyes and with all the agility she could muster she plucked it right off the tree while sitting inside the moving bus. Ah.. What a moment of absolute delight! Wonder if anyone had ever done that before.  She took a victory bite and the juicy apple was quite a mouthful..

What joy lies in the simple luxuries of life, like eating a Delicious apple and gazing through the window at the passing hills!

Imagine a long drive and just when you feel a little hungry or a little thirsty you can just pull an apple from thin air. This little memory fills me with joy and a part of me still believes that you can get lucky enough for an apple on the go!

I drove through this route again after more than 20 years. The fat ugly bus was politely ignored; the route was just as scenic and magical. As for the re-run of the apple story, I had to console myself with buying a bag of apples by a vendor sitting by the road side.. 

For some reason certain dreams, memories and impressions are more vivid, beautiful, tantalizing and real-life than well real-life! Sometimes our dreams embody our deepest desires and wishes in their truest form, more than we concede in any waking hour. I wake up sometimes smiling inwardly at a weird conversation I had with a long lost friend, sometimes a forgotten childhood memory plays out and sometimes I just eat apples off a moving bus :)

                                     

                                     Maa enjoying an apple..

PS: This post is not about Apple watch or any of its kins..

A visit to Lat Sahib's HeadQuarters

As I focussed my camera to take a picture of the Governor's House(Raj Bhavan) formerly called Government House, I chuckled inwardly at my poor Pahari imitation of the name from the Raj era- Lat Saab-ek-haveli..

The rising mists of the Monsoon set the perfect stage for this symbol of ancient majesty
Green is the new Purple!-the Monsoon green Deodar and Oak trees flanking the building, stand tall as the royal sentinels..
The architecture style is called Victorian Gothic domestic style, but to my vivid imagination, the front facade of the building looked like royal chess pieces laid out in this sprawling 220 acres lush green space. The police in their khakis completed the picture as the bored pawns, policing the handful of tourists.

The foundation stone of the Nainital Government House, modeled after Buckingham Palace, was laid on April 27, 1897, and the building was completed in March 1900. If memory serves right, the scaffolding and the repair work is a constant feature here, maintaining a century old building in a moisture rich atmosphere is a tall order.
Inside the building, water has seeped through the cracks and crevices of time, slowly staining the walls black and turning wooden floors mouldy. The combined effect of the constant temperature changes and the occasional dramatic hailstorms has shattered the old glass windows and glass houses. The almost shrunk bows with missing arrows, and the rusted muskets no more look menacing however the decorative animal head mounts do look menacing in this picture of slow decay and death.

The repair work has been underway since the last three years and certain parts of the building are closed for public viewing, the whole upper storey is out of bounds for tourists. The entrance foyer, ballroom, the dining space, the visitor's parlor are open for viewing. Most of the old paintings hanging on the walls have been treated and restored, the copper artefacts and the elephant tusks in the front foyer gleam eerily under the light of the grand chandeliers, the piano is kept dusted and tuned, the ballroom floor is still bouncy courtesy the springs embedded between the wooden floor boards. The guide usually makes the heftiest person in the group to jump so that the others can feel the bouncy floors. I believe this is a daily performance for the empty chairs now sitting around the ballroom!

Interestingly there is a certain vanity in all the present day repair work, the guide tells you proudly that the new renovation is modelled to replicate the current look of the Buckingham palace. The wallpaper and the carpets are same as the ones adorning the British royalty and are imported all the way from England. This 'good' part of the building is not open for general public viewing and you need to have some 'good contacts' to witness the current day luxury befitting the 'de-jure' head of the state.

Stepping out of the building is a slight relief as the stale mouldy air inside gets overbearing after a while(true only for the public section).
The well kept garden is truly inviting with multicoloured shrubs of hydrangea in full blossom. The uninterrupted expanse of green surrounding the property is a true testament to British idea of leisure, wooded pathways with trailing climbers, ornate lampposts, resting benches under the trees, stairways cutting across hill slopes.

And then there is the Golf course, an 18 hole golf course spread
over an area of 50 acres, at an altitude of 6500-6580 feet above sea level. Set in a lush and pristine hilly terrain surrounded by mixed forests, the changing elevation and thin mountain air(your ball travels longer here) make it a connoisseur's delight . The golf course has an underground tunnel to channel water to the lowest part of the course, a marvel of engineering skills of 1920's.















Apart from the touristy stuff, we also stood for a while standing and admiring the engineering details of one of the big drainage channels (nalas) constructed in the premise to allow for easy drainage of rain water. The frequent landslides in Nainital prompted the Britisher civil engineers to set up an elaborate system of drainage channels to save the hills from the ravages of heavy downpour. The rains of last year and flooding in neighbouring SukhaTaal brought the spotlight back on the neglected nalas- the lifeline of the hills..The 'Nala's' are again topical and trending courtesy high profile HighCourt orders but the real life picture hasn't changed much..

Also in close vicinity of the Raj Bhavan are the most prestigious boarding schools of Nainital. Founded during the British rule, each of these schools has a hundred year old rich history and many young lives have graduated from these hallowed portals to real world.
As we drove past the gates of my Alma Mater, I was flooded with fond memories of walking to Government grounds for school picnics. It was a magical place then.. and it is an equally magical place for me even today..!

Coming Home-II

Nainital, India:

After a very long time-almost 7 years I came home to the Monsoons in Nainital..

While growing up, these were the magical days of rising fog, green ferns, wild flowers, random waterfalls, brown snails & slugs, yellow raincoats, duckback rainboots, rainy-day holiday. This was also the season fraught with the perils of landslides, roadblocks, cloudbursts, waterborne diseases, fungi growth and damp smells. Every Monsoon season a wild river would usurp an adjoining village; a cloudburst would wipe off a complete village; landslides would trap unprepared travellers, but I guess we had accepted these risks as part of nature’s plan.

And then last year happened, days of heavy rains, large-scale destructions, thousands of deaths. However to call it nature’s fury would be naïve, last year was a man-made disaster in equal measure. We became victims of short sighted, half-baked development projects-Tehri dam, large-scale residential construction in eco-sensitive zones, greedy commercialization of religious pilgrimage and absence of any backup plans for a natural disaster.

I saw the ravages of last year and the current onslaught of the rains as we drove along the twisted-turning hilly road from Haldwani to Nainital.  We passed by broken roads, partially blocked roads and impatient people. Despite the sight of the lush green, the general air of apathy agitated me. The critical part of me could not shake off the thought: “Things seem to move backward here..”. Is it just the realist part of me questioning the status quo or am I enamored with the developed world and so critical of my modest pahad?

California, Nevada, Pacific Northwest USA:

California Coast: Brown hills with ridges sculpted by the whimsical winds and patches of stunted trees hurdled together in trenches. The restlessly beautiful waters, the splash of colors at sunset, the joy of taking the less-travelled secret hidden roads and discovering small cozy houses or lavish large ranches in the hills.

Nevada: Brown barren mounds of dusty hills, some had random single English letters etched upon them. This barren monotony was occasionally interrupted by pockets of sudden greens and flowing streams

Sequoia National park:Dusty brown hills with withered brown vegetation, sightings of burnt tinder and warnings of forest fires. Then after you climb 3000ft above sea level, the landscape changes completely, the hills became verdant green. These hills are home to some of the tallest trees in the world- Sequoia trees. You also find the sun at its playful best here, playing hide and seek with you and staging multiple ‘sun-sets’ as you climb down the hill.

Pacific northwest coast:Dark blue hills at a distance separated from land by water bodies, floating white clouds over the hills, tourists flocking with camera's to capture the colorful totems of the Red Indians along the waterfront..

When I drove along the US west coast soaking in the beauty, I was completely at peace, not a bit agitated by anything. The only distraction was the question of where to stop and eat (so many choices) first world problem!

It’s a familiar story you leave a loved one behind to meet new people. You see the idiosyncrasies and struggles of the old world in sharp contrast to the convenience and simplicity of living in the new world. You come back to the old world, only to find it encumbered in the old struggles. You look into the shriveled face of the loved one, the sunken cheeks smiling a shy toothy smile to welcome you.. You try to muster the humility to embrace him with the same warmth without the arrogance of judgment but it’s a labored effort.. Its not how it should be..

Then magically from somewhere the white Monsoon fog descends upon the hills, it hides everything from sight- everything visible to judgmental eyes- it conceals all the colors in its white embrace; the only sound is the falling rain. I stand at my balcony, stretch out my hands to feel the raindrops and in that moment of complete peace, I am finally home to the Monsoons in Nainital..

happy bday dost!!

We laugh 
We cry
 
We love 
We lose
 
We walk
We stumble

hack each others minds
make it all worthwhile
to my bff...happy bday dost...!



Here comes one more

again and again :P

Floridaying!

In case it is not obvious this post is about living it up in Florida- the sunshine state!

It took me almost three years in US before I touched Florida beaches so the anticipation was quite high. In my mind I thought of Florida beaches as high-end party destination; the glamorous kinds where people come to flaunt their well-toned bodies and drink mimosas by the pool side. 

So we planned an old friends Bachelorette in Florida and headed out to party!

For comparison purposes, I thought of Rio beaches as being relaxed and unpretentious. The kinds which I would not attribute as sophisticated ‘water-sports package’ sporty but simple ‘football/surf board’ sporty. (Yeah football not beach volleyball). It’s a party destination again; but you come here to soak in the native experience..

I thought of California beaches as a lifestyle, where RV beach camping is a regular sight and young people jog around in the morning and walk their dogs in the evening. The beaches feel young and a part of everyday life. It’s the ideal destination for a road-trip, you’ll see the beaches, the mountains, the deserts everything as you keep moving along the coast.

These are just my general perception, I would not argue their merit..

The question now is did Florida live up to this anticipation?

Honest answer would be it wasn't what I expected it to be.

I came across the most peaceful of beaches-literally deserted beaches where dolphins just walked by you.  

I came across the playful white beaches and incidentally it was really easy to leave the crowded beaches and sail away to a quite island on the Gulf of Mexico where the water is perfectly clear for snorkeling and again chase dolphins!

So for me Florida was about lying on the front deck of boat eating water melons, soaking  in the sun, getting sprayed by the salty waters as we raced along the gulf of Mexico, listening to Reggae music-‘everything will be alright’..

I saw the partying but not the high end swanky clubs kinds but a very colorful Spanish-Cuban-Colombian roadside partying (7^th Avenue Street). Colorful splash of yellow-blue and green, a Scientology church (i haven't seen one before), lots of tattoo places and Cuban cigar shops, stores selling bric-à-brac from south east Asia, from Colombia, dresses from France and slew of pubs each trying to stand out in its own way and you could tell the clientele they were shopping for.

For me it was a feeling of déjà vu, like visiting the little cousin of New Orleans’ Bourbon Street (colorful, musical, flavorful, ethnic and the wildness of the partying crowds at night)

One reason to explain this anomaly might be the choice of destinations in Florida- Tampa bay area & Orlando. We didn't really spend much time in Orlando, so my sphere of vision would be just Tampa bay area- Tampa city and the beach towns of Clearwater and St Petersburg. My general impression was that these places had more local businesses running the show, they didn't have the familiar promenades with big brand stores. We found the food was really cheap- small cozy cafes serving good food to a loyal customer-base. Initially we fancied the idea of driving in a convertible, but then we settled for a budget Nissan Versa, although the Nissan made us scratch our heads with their bizarre design choices(the car seats felt funny and the dash lights were an ugly red) but there weren't too many posh/stylish drivers on the roads so we blended in just fine..
It was a small town feeling through and through, not some crazy party destination on steroids..(haha..just my imagination..)
In the end a place can offer a lot of things to a lot of different people, it all depends on what you are seeking for.. perhaps this was the Florida I was seeking!

I neither shot the video and nor edited it... but I am sharing it across here..
Credit: video swati, editing: parixit

Memorial Day travel-II

"How small is the earth and confined, watched and followed by the persistent horizons. 
The light like a cage has shut out the dark eternity and the hours hop and cry within its barrier"  -Tagore

'the tyranny of light'
'the freedom of darkness'
These metaphors sound contrary to popular poetic sensibilities, our literature abounds with references where light symbolizes all that is positive(freedom) and darkness is the connotation for everything that is negative(shackles).
But is light really the freedom that we seek or is it the oppressor that we are yet to fathom?

"The division of days and nights is not for me, not that of months and years. For me, the stream of time has stopped, on whose waves dances the world- like straws and twigs. In this dark cave, I am alone, merged in myself, and the eternal light is still, like a mountain lake afraid of its own depth. Water oozes and drips from the cracks, and in the pools float the ancient frogs. I sit chanting the incantation of nothingness. The worlds limits recede, line after line. the stars like sparks of fire flown from the anvil of time are extinct. I took shelter in the darkness, the castle of the infinite and fought the deceitful light,day after day, till it lost all its weapons and lay powerless at my feet."- Tagore

It is a joy to experience someone else's imagination when you are 250 feet below the earth's surface in the longest cave system in the world.
It is a joy to give in and experience a moment of complete cool darkness after fighting it at every step..
It is a joy to may be partially understand what someone meant behind a bunch of beautiful lines..

This stream of consciousness was inspired by a trip to the Mammoth Caves National Park in KY.  It was my first cave experience and between all the factual details about geography, geology, history, zoology and chemistry I had Tagore's poetry giving me company!

Source: National Geographic

A shout-out to Nashville, it has the best music scene I have experienced and I am sure no other city can come anywhere close.The evening started with a live piano rendition of 'American Pie'-Don McLean followed by 'Brown-eyed girl' Van Morrison, 'Wanted Dead or Alive'-Bon Jovi, 'Leaving on the jet plane'-John Denver, rich dose of country- Country girl(shake it for me)/ Walking in Memphis.. and the list goes on.. Actually I was sold with the first song itself :)

Also this was my second road trip and I again relived the green routes and the freedom of speed..

I wonder if Tagore ever pondered on this aspect of freedom..!!

Yellow post-it

Yellow post it notes.

Will u take away all my chores once I confess to thee?

Perhaps not!

Before I begin to write the long list of things that need to done,

I paused for a moment deciding which one to put on the top as the ‘the most important’

It’s a funny realization when you can’t quite make up your mind about that..

Anyways in the rush of writing, I scribbled 10 things without taking a break 

It’s a funny realization when you walk away from your desk only to rush back again

The ‘most important’ just missed the list somehow

I have never gambled in life

I have played a game of poker just once, and lost everything but $2
And traded the $2 for a cold bottle of water at an overpriced vending machine

I drink the water and think of the one lottery that is about to change my life..

Only if I had learnt to gamble in life!

Gambling everything and then taking the outcome in your own stride..
Its a tough lesson!
It's a funny realization that perhaps this is ‘the most important’thing
Here it goes on top of my list in the yellow post-it..

New Orleans-trip diary

A decadent red brick wall of an old decadent house with rusted brown sloping roof, wild climbers and flowers spread across the wall like an unintended mosaic, replicas of green crabs, green turtles, green reptiles-alligators & lizards with curled up tails climbing up the wall. ‘Photography not allowed’
A whimsical art display using the space between the back of a souvenir shop and an old house as an art gallery, one of the many New Orleans inspired art works.

A river on one side, a lake on the other, for the marshes it is their natural home and then the Gulf of Mexico finally emptying itself in the Atlantic Ocean. A city with a water body is always special; this one just became extra special. For the tourists this translates into different tours and cruises along the different water bodies. I would add that it’s a gastronomical tour as well, but I can provide no first-hand account here.

Historically New Orleans is a cultural cauldron (French, Spanish, African, and Native American Indians) and remnants of it are clearly visible in its architecture and lifestyle.
Upper floor verandahs with ornate cast iron railings and hanging potted green plants, beautifully colored paneled doors and windows, elegant patio furniture-wooden or cast iron, gas/electric street lamps outside the houses at night and narrow lanes with horse drawn carriages and red street cars –reminder of old world European charm.

The natural landscape-flora/fauna/the waters, the architecture, the music, the food, the arts, the history, the debauchery of Bourbon Street all create the New Orleans experience and for me it was the drive as well. My first highway driving experience..yayyy!

Tall, dense and spring green trees flanked the interstate on both sides, and when darkness finally descended, it seemed like the whole of existence was just the road ahead, the tall trees on both sides and the strip of dark sky above sliced perfectly by the trees to mirror the road below.
Life can be really simple sometimes- just a straight line drive at 80mph..

Country roads are a new experience for someone driving a Honda Civic sedan, perhaps for the first time you begin to notice a world where everyone else drives a Ford, Dodge or Chevy pickup trucks or SUV and you are the only one driving a Honda Civic. It is a rare experience!
Also there is the thrill of driving by and occasionally spotting agricultural aircrafts aerial topdressing farms. Did I hear you say that is just the perk you need to change professions and become a farmer..

I made this trip to the city after almost two years of wanting to go there and the city didn’t disappoint me. We covered a lot in one day, but then one day is never really enough. These are just some of the sights that I will fondly remember about New Orleans, and for someone planning a trip to ‘The Big Easy’, sign me up for a second trip!

Optimist about it..

I drove along as Bastille-Pompei song played along. Its not a very remarkable song but catchy in its own way. Some songs have this quality that a single line or the chorus just stays with you through the day and even for days for no apparent reason.. how many times we just exclaim that 'this song is stuck in my head', well it happens with me quite often.

So I found myself suddenly humming these two lines from the song to myself almost unconsciously..
'I'm gonna be an optimist about this../I'm gonna be an optimist about this...'
The correct lines happen to be:
How am I gonna be an optimist about this? How am I gonna be an optimist about this?
Well you hear what you to want to hear!

I was running around my usual route and then I saw this tree in complete purple-pink blossoms. I thought of the tree just outside my window, I have been noticing small shoots, sprouts, buds for few days but I am still awaiting the dreary winter cloak to disappear completely. Its getting there...I'm just gonna be an optimist about it.. I caught myself singing the 'improvised' lyrics..

 When you go swimming, somehow the person on the adjacent lane seems to be faster than you, more graceful that you, stronger than you.. when you are catching your breath he/she is completing laps effortlessly. Again it could only be my experience and not hold true for good swimmers out there in the pool, but I like to think that I am getting closer to being faster than some adjacent folks..I'm just gonna be an optimist about it.. 

The dreariness of winter is a real thing, Self doubt is a real thing, but a dose of unreal optimism sometimes helps..'So I'm gonna be an optimist about this../so I'm gonna be an optimist about this...'

Roads

"Some roads are so beautiful that you cannot know whether you travel on the road or the road travels in you"-Mehmet Murat ildan

I read this quote early morning and I was stuck by the beauty and the truth of the statement. All through the day at a subconscious level I was taking a stroll down all the beautiful roads that still travel in me. 

A vacant stretch of road so quiet, so peaceful that it immediately feels personal. In that moment I am not sharing the road with anyone and if I want to walk in reverse that’s what I do! My eyes fixed on the morning sun falling on the snowcapped hills and my back to everything I can ignore for the moment, including where I am going…
A Street bustling with faces, sounds, smells, colors. There is food, drinks, singing. You are either the busy bee bustling around searching for something or the leisurely soul just taking in everything, either ways you are not alone. This road is a shared experience and in the end all the individual faces, sounds, smells, colors beautifully blend into a postcard memory that stays with you.
Then there are the roads that are privy to all your hearts secrets, recall all the long walks with friends walking up and down the same stretch of road until it gets really dark and cold. There are roads that have seen you do the happy dance in the falling rain. There are roads that tricked you, challenged and sometimes got the better of you. There are roads that have seen you persevere as you took to cycling or driving for the first time. 

Sifting through all these images, I came across two kinds of roads: the ones that crossed paths with me just once and the ones that were a good part of my life. Digging deeper, on one hand were the roads that I went seeking for and on the other were the roads that always brought me back home. For one the beauty lay in the unfamiliarity, in the peaceful desolation, an instantaneous connection like a strong physical attraction. For the other set it was the routine familiarity, the conversations, the companionship..

Both these roads are beautiful in their own right.. and I can honestly say that they travel long and deep in my memories..

Being human

You are very scared of some things and not scared of somethings at all..
Does that make you a coward or does that make you brave.. ?
Conclusively you are neither.. you are just human...

You can think clearly sometimes and be completely foolish at other..
Does that make you intelligent or does it make you dumb..?
Conclusively you are neither.. you are just human...

I can write paragraphs, posing the same question, using different adjectives. However that's not the point.
My point is that what is human is inherently flawed-its eccentric, idiosyncratic, contradictory, incongruous, unbalanced, even repulsive and yet brilliant in some way. Our flaws make us human, we are the sum total of our imperfections..

The degree of our flaws determines the monstrosity or humantrosity(not even a word) of our nature. How cognizant we are of our flaws, how we accept them, how we challenge them, makes us human.I believe accepting our flaws is slightly easier than accepting the flaws of the people around us and living with them. Perhaps that's why god sold us the idea of love so that we could forgive him for his flawed creation and peacefully live with each other. There has never been a marketeer bigger than God and we humans are the perennial consumers!
I am pretty sure it is the Valentine's day effect that is making me talk about love and consumerism in the same breath. All the exhibitionism of love, sincerity of love, consumerism of love, tenderness of love, depravity of love, cynicism for love just froths up to the surface on this one day..

Somehow I end up writing a post every Valentine's day, this time its some arcane commentary about flawed humans and their flawed ways!

Happy Birthday!

Some of us are fortunate to have at least one true SOS friend.
And when she turns 30, you are glad that finally she is reaching an age of some wisdom- may be now she'll tell you to do something other than punch guys on their stupid faces.
May be now she'll make better judgement calls when she is talking to your parents about you.
May be now she won't confuse your past-present-future crushes and embarrass you in their very presence.
May be now she'll not ridicule you for the gifts that you pick up for her(voluntarily & involuntarily)..

I would never bet my money or for that matter even my useless 2007 Sony Ericsson Walkman phone on any of the above actually coming true.. Its all a bunch of wishful thinking and nothing more.. She'll never change, least of all because of some bully called turning 30..

But I hear you when you talk about all the unknowns in life. The ideal version of life and how we are still so far away and still so clueless. I don't know why our mind plays this trick on us and we feel this sudden urge to be all wise and grown up one fine day, all I can offer you is:
1. Sing you your birthday song in the most ridiculous tone I can summon(check done!)
2. Dedicate a post to you complete with pictures of you in a silver crown from our golden days(check-done!)
3. Little gyan- If all of life is sorted out, then spice kahan se aayega!

Again Happy Birthday.. :)

Can you laugh?

Some people I know can really laugh! Everyone can smile(mostly) but not everyone can laugh free and loud. I would first like to establish that there is a difference between a smile and a laugh, before I begin to describe the different laugh faces.

A laugh is open-both literally(you open your mouth) and figuratively(you open your heart). A good laugh is loud and clear. A good laugh is honest but not necessarily polite. A good laugh changes your countenance in noticeable ways- red cheeks, a little breathlessness, watery eyes, some people just begin to roll on the ground and some have to go for a wee-wee break!

A laugh is more dramatic than a smile in every way yet it is less confusing than a polite smile. Did he smile at me because he likes me, or am I reading too much..? Did the interviewer smile because he was impressed or he was inwardly laughing at my misery and stupidity? Why did that person give me a smile, do I know him? A smile is a border-line affair on a curve, most of the times you are guessing which side you are, on the other hand a laugh simply implies that something is genuinely funny. Smile is just too multi-functional and multi-dimensional for easy comprehension. A laugh is multidimensional as well(as I would soon explain in the next paragraph) but it has a singularity of purpose and so less confusing.

Lets explore the dimensional differences between different laughing styles.  Now this person I know when he laughs you can barely see his eyes, its like his cheeks hide away the eyes..there is someone when he smiles, there is this vein in his forehead that just swells up like a little continuation of his nose. Someone else who tears up completely when she laughs-teardrops the size of fat rain drops. I know of someone who has to tightly hold her stomach and open her mouth to breathe in so that she doesn't choke herself. There is someone who laughs so loudly that a closed room vibrates, another guy who sounds like a high pitched female when he laughs real loud. There are others who add some more dimensions to a loud laugh- clapping their hands, banging a table, tapping their feet. Its a performance!

At this point I should clarify that I am a dismal laugh person, i have to make do with smiling most of the times and I am envious of people who can laugh heartily. 

And if you have read this far, you perhaps already know if you can really "Laugh" proudly in your own signature style with no care for the world or for people like me who'll go ahead and write a blog about you!

Winter sights

When we are not shivering and cursing the cold, when we are not wrapped up to our eyes or not nestled inside our apartments with the blinds pulled over.. but sitting comfortably by the window side in a cozy cafe sipping warm apple cider, munching warm toasted sandwich and gazing outside, winter sights are a rare treat and a time for some idle contemplation if you are completely by yourself..

I looked out of the window, taking note of how the terrain had changed from the version I had in mind from a similar day back in July. Its all brown and frozen now, there aren't the energetic folks doing a quick lap in the lunch hour. Back then it was like 15 days for me in this city and now its almost 7 months here but I am still an outsider-someone who gets chauffeured around but left to his own resources would probably sit down and cry at an intersection baffled and confused. But I like to think that there is still hope for me and they call it GPS!

Well coming back to the topic, I was about to describe winter only sights in this blog. So here it goes, looking outside of the window, I noticed some dry winter leaves skating on the surface of the frozen pond, playfully skidding from one end to the other. The wind would toss them on the pond and then they would be dancing on the ice trying to keep their balance. As a child I always wondered how cold would it have to get for the Naini lake to freeze completely so that we kids could just skate on it. Somehow that was my idea of super-fun. (why???)

Digressing again, When do you feel at home in a city, how long does it take?
Perhaps it depends on how you define the feeling of home.. but at the most basic level it is about comfort and familiarity. And at times its about the ability to handle the occasional curveball that comes your way. The feeling of Home springs out of strong association with-people, food, places, sports, cultural events, activities... just a myriad of things that make you warm and fuzzy inside. And it sure takes time to create those associations afresh in a new place where everyone has a different set of priorities.

Lets modify the question to a achievable level- when do you 'kind' of know a place, how long does it take?
I guess you begin to know a place when you have your personal list of favorite things in the city and you have a couple of things in your to-explore list..
Top three Kolkata picks: Ferry ride on the Ganges(super cheap/no traffic/lots of munchies at hand/peaceful), College street  and 'puchka & rosgulla' place in the neighborhood..
Top three Hyderabad picks: Go-kart track, all the Firangi Pani(s) and just the best coffee place by the secret turn somewhere in the Jubilee hills..
Memphis: ...............................................................(I really need to push myself....)

Again coming back to the topic I was about to describe another winter sight. You drive in your car and just a handful of light, fluffy and lazy snowflakes nestled cozily in the ridge of the windscreen wipers begin to fly off in the wind or to put it more poetically I'd say-begin to waltz in the wind!
Its a beautiful sight to watch snow falling, when its just waltzing around before silently settling down.As a child I used to keep peeking with anticipation through partially opened doors and windows when it became all numb and quite outside. The cold snow always filled my heart with warmth for my hometown, and even today I rejoice inwardly when the first snow covers the hills back home..
For me, looking at the emerald lake flanked by snow capped  Naini hills while sitting next to a warm 'saghad'-fire is the best winter sight and my version of 'home'...

photo credits: A fellow Nainitalian(i can't recall where I found this picture and saved it to my Naini folder)

One day at a time

With half closed eyes I look at you, only I don't look at you. I am distracted by the rotating disc of changing colors playing on the wall behind you. The changing colors are assaulting my tired senses but still I can't tear away my gaze. My peripheral vision can still sense the distracting colors and I am only too conscious of their presence..

With half tilted head, I strain my ears to listen to you, only I am not listening to you. I am ill at ease trying to identify the song playing in the bar, somewhere in the background of all the loud chatter and your talking. I have heard the song but the words elude me now and I am tormented by my inability to put my finger down on the song before it ends and gets lost in the noise..

With half curled lips, I smile at you to acknowledge your presence, only I am not there and I am searching for someone who is not there as well. I am thinking of my cluttered closet, pile of unopened documents, my laptop that shuts and restarts at its whim on my face. I am all over the place and nowhere really..

I wonder if you can see through me or you are preoccupied by your own self. You mostly look enchanted by the sound and wisdom of your own prosaic words. You are trying to tell me about life and decisions and all things big but you are all over the place and nowhere really..

"Hush..
One day at a time.. Breath in..breathe out..One day at a time.
Its a good thought when the entire year is staring ahead-one day at a time.."

You look at me quizzically, perhaps I wrecked your chain of thought with my sudden moment of clarity but I had nothing more to add. I sat through the rest of the evening listening to you speak to yourself. When we were through and I walked up to my car, with a slight winter chill running through my spine, I smiled to myself  'one evening at a time' and then we can all go home...