Everest Base Camp Trek: A journey of lifetime

 It stood right in front of me. Not even 100 meters away. Or in the mountain terminology, another small ascent of 15 minutes at the most. And yet, I never felt further away from my dream spot. They say after a certain amount of pain, you kind of become numb to it. They are right in most cases. But at this moment, only I knew how wrong they were.  2 hours back when we started, I only felt extreme cold, breathlessness, fatigue and growing numbness in my extremities. Right now it felt as if 1000 needles had been simultaneously poked into each of my fingertips. After all the trials and tribulations that I had been through, I didn’t want to give up. But I was also practical enough to not cause any permanent damage. So I asked my elder brother to go ahead without me. I just stood there asking the almighty for a little more strength and a sense of direction. While I was engrossed in my thoughts, our trek leader approached me. He probably sensed my hesitation to go ahead. He said a quote in Bengali which basically meant, the capability of human body depends on the hardships you make it endure. He also assured that I will be just fine. It kind of motivated me and I gave it my all. And there I was. I made it. We made it. Standing at the top of Kala Pathar at around 18200 feet, with temperature somewhere between -15 degrees to -10 degrees, I never felt so warm at heart. A few drops of tear rolled down, as I soaked in the views of Mt Everest, the grand Khubhu Icefall and a few other 8000mtr peaks all in one single frame. After a very long period of time, I felt so alive and proud of myself. And surprisingly, I didn’t feel that cold, the breathlessness was history and I swear I had the energy to run a half marathon right then and there.  I even got the courage to remove my snow gloves, take out my phone and make a small recording of the 360 degree view that I was enjoying. I guess, at that point of time, I was truly happy and content. But all of this didn’t come easy. It was nothing less than a roller coaster ride to arrive at this beautiful moment.

Let us go back in time. Not much. Only 14 days. I stood at the Ranchi airport wondering what is going to happen with our trek. There was some issue with the Check in and for some time we felt like we might have to book our super expensive flight tickets once again. Thankfully the customer care came through and we avoided the first bouncer of the trip. I say first bouncer because, as I take you through our journey, you will get to read about many more fatal bouncers thrown at our way. We were about to get on an extremely volatile and overwhelming journey of hope and despair. As we landed in Kathmandu, our spirits were once again high. We explored the local markets around our hostel and then took the 4 hours drive to Ramechhap airport. Due to certain new regulations, all the flights to Lulka now take off from Ramechhap airport in the autumn season. Like the over excited kids, we were the first ones to reach the airport hoping to be able to pre pone our flights in case there was an empty seat. Little did we know what was about to come later?  After an hour we were told that a lot of flights from the previous day were cancelled due to bad weather. This meant, instead of getting on an early flight, we would rather be spending our entire day at the airport waiting for our turn. A few hours later we were informed, no more flights for the day. Even the next day prospects seemed bleak. It was 15^th of October that day. We had to reach Lukla by 16^th early morning, or we wouldn’t be able to join our group.  Suddenly we were informed (or, rather misinformed) about an alternative. We could take a flight to Fablu and then a “short” jeep ride to Thangla. From there, our base camp was supposedly very near. We had to make a decision right then and there, because there were more than 100 trekkers stranded at the airport. We chose to take the flight. As we landed at the new airport, we got the shock out lives. The jeep could only take us up to Bupsa which happened to be miles before the place we were supposed to reach. How were we supposed to reach our base camp in time to join the rest of the group? Once again our entire trek was at risk. Everyone had a different opinion on how to deal with it. We decided, to first talk to our trek leader and ask if he had any solution to the mess we were in. We knew trekking with a trolley bag and a duffel bag (which we were supposed to drop at our base camp) was out of question.  As if the gods were on our side, we came to know that our TL also took this very route and he knew all about it. He was a Godsend. He described the plan and said it wasn’t going to be easy. The 60 km drive ahead of us would take 6-8 hours. We would be transported, literally like cargo, or worse, mules. Then a 20 minute night trek with our luggage to reach our homestay. From there we were given a 3 day plan to Namche Bazar where we would catch up with the team. The trail was going to be long, muddy up to the knees and a fairly good amount of ascent.  At that point, it all seemed like good news because a few moments earlier our entire trek was at peril. The best part was our porters would reach Bupsa next day in the morning. It was all we wanted to hear. I don’t even want to write about the 7 hour drive that we went through. Every single bone, nerve, organ and cell of our body was shook to its core in those 7 long hours. In short, at the end of the drive we were more than happy to walk towards our homestay.

Next day we started off at 8am towards Phakinaka which was supposed to be our next campsite.  No breakfast after the kind of dinner we had to forcibly shove down our throats last night in order to survive. When we reached our tea house at around 3pm, all our trousers resembled the mud. We were exhausted and tired because of lack of decent food, especially veg food. And while sitting there, we overheard this group who planned to reach Phakding the same night. Phakding was the place where the rest of our team had already reached that day. I casually remarked that it is way too far and almost impossible. One of them said, “Nothing is impossible my dear friend.’ I looked at him. He stood there trekking with just one hand and made up for the other lost hand with his immense zeal and confidence. It shook something inside of me. I, rather, we decided to at least think about it. We asked around and concluded that with our speed it would take around 7 hours from where we were. We saw each other and decided, let’s do it. It was going to be extremely challenging and tiring and may be a little stupid or crazy to exert so much. But somehow we knew it could be done. So we set off. And the next 7 hours were truly exhausting. But the excitement of making it there a day before kept us going.  For the last 2 kilometers we basically dragged ourselves to Phakding, the place where rest of the team was, and the place where we were supposed to be. And at around 10pm in the dark and drizzle, we reached our home for the night. Even though it was just another tea house, it did feel like home that night. And the welcome we received from rest of the group just took away all our pains and exhaustion. We were happy to be there after trekking for almost 27 odd kilometers at that altitude for 14 hours straight.

The next day (Day3) we all started for our next stop, Namce bazaar. It was a steep climb and we reached late in the evening. But, in the hindsight, it was truly a beautiful day. From the beautiful picturesque village to the dense steep jungle, from the long suspension bridges over the roaring Dhudh Kosi river which sometimes swayed vehemently while we crossed them to the innumerable big and small waterfalls, it was a day filled with exquisite sites and scene. When we entered the Namche Bazaar, for a second, it didn’t feel like a usual trekking route. It was bustling with energy and light and a vibe that can only be felt not explained. Day 4 was an acclimatization day. We just hiked to a hotel, had an overpriced tea and got back to our tea house. The idea behind such days is to climb high and sleep low so that the body gets used to the high altitude and the risk of AMS is reduced. Next day we reached this beautiful place called Dole. As we reached the small village we were awestruck with the beauty of the place. It was as if we were magically teleported to Kashmir. Small wooden huts were built on the green meadows which were surrounded by these huge ice covered mountains and the magical sound of a river which meandered in the near distance. You could spend weeks or months here and not be bored. Although we had trekked a considerable distance that day, we were fully energized just by the place. We even ended up playing football without worrying about the altitude and the single digit temperature as the sun slowly set behind the mountains.

The next day was a tough one. The trek to Machermo involved steep ascent and strong icy winds. By the time we reached the tea house around the lunch time, the temperature touched 0 degrees. But more than the temperature, the winds caused the trouble. We were already at a high altitude of 14600 feet and the party had just started. We had 7 more days of ascent which would take us to 18000 feet.   We instinctively knew the tougher days had arrived.

Everest base camp trek has 2 routes. One is the traditional route and the other one is via gokyo ri and chola Pass. We took the latter. It adds up on the number of days and also makes an already difficult trek a little more challenging. But it more than makes up for it by providing super views and an adrenaline rush difficult to get anywhere else. As a cherry on cake, this route sees fewer trekkers and thus more of nature and less of people. The route from machermo to gokyo ri was as usual beautiful and wide. It was as if we were looking at the mother nature at its finest in a largest canvas possible. The snow ladded peaks just appeared a stone throw away. The massive mountains and the 8000 mtr peaks I had only read about in the past were right infront of me playing hide and seek as we traversed through the trail. People from farthest corners of the world had come all the way to see this majestic and raw beauty. Just before we reached Gokyo ri we were in for a pleasant surprise. At that altitude, amongst the biggest of the mountain peaks, lay the pristine blue and emerald green lakes. Lakes that were so wide and big that one couldn’t see the end of it. It was certainly the most beautiful sight of the trek until then. It was here when the local guide asked us to wait for what was in store for us on the next day. I wondered, what could be more beautiful than this.

I got my answer the next day. After a grueling, bone chilling and heart racing climb of 3 hours as I stood on the top of Gokyo ri, I was left speechless. I have to quite a lot of beautiful places and I normally don’t get too excited. Yet, as I stood there and took in the 360 degree view of the place I truly felt blessed. Right infront of me was “the best” unobstructed view of the world’s highest mountain peak , followed by another 3 8000 mtr peaks. Down below them was one of the world’s the largest glacier which extended for as long as my eye could see. And as if this wasn’t enough, in its full glory and beauty lay the most beautiful emerald green lake and a large snow laden mountain peak by its side. Even the most creative minds couldn’t have imagines this set up. It was a beautiful moment. And at that moment I could only thank the mountain gods who had allowed me to be there, stand tall and soak in all the beauty with such clear skies. At that moment, even if the trek came to an end, it would have been more than enough. You have to go see it to believe it. I don’t think I can even attempt to further describe the beauty we witnessed.

The next day wasn’t really difficult. But it was surreal. And it was risky. We had to walk on the glacier, we saw yesterday and one wrong step meant broken bones or worse. Also, while I walked on the glacier, I realized the significance and the enormity of it. Suddenly all those forgotten geography lessons came rushing back to my mind. I realized how small we are in the time space dimension. And yet, we take ourselves so seriously all the time. That day, I just fell in love with that glacier.

That night we all slept early. Not because we were tired. But because we knew the next day was going to be long, tedious and adventurous. And it would begin way before the first ray of sunlight hit the mountains. Chola pass was supposedly the most difficult part of the trek as per most people we met. It was a long day in terms of distance. It had really steep ascent. It had a couple of slightly risky sections which had to be tackled carefully and with the help of ropes. It was at an even higher altitude of 17600 feet where every step takes your breath away literally. And the temperature was only -5 degrees which meant our water bottles had icy cold water with chunks of fresh ice. And our extremities were going to be cold and numb. And if all this wasn’t enough, the cold, bone chilling winds could also join the party. At 4 am in the morning, with my 10 kg backpack, I stood there under the clear sky with millions of stars visible to the naked eye. It was a beautiful night sky. I wish I could have captured it on camera. But who in their right minds would remove the hand gloves. The climb on the chola pass was truly exhilarating. With those ropes in one had and a trek pole in the other, we slowly made our way to the top. It took quite a lot of energy and will power and some dry fruits, but finally as we stood on the top, it felt really satisfying. The hard work of last few months paid off that day. And as if to celebrate our successful summit, we were greeted with a huge snowscape while we descended down. The child in us took over and all the fatigue just vanished. That day we all had this incessant smile on our face. It said, ‘We did it.’

The next two days were fairly moderate. The only continuing difficult part was the altitude factor which had its own affect on everyone. As we reached Gorakshep, our highest campsite, we realized we had come so far. We only had 2 major milestones to cover before we started to descend down. One was the excursion to EBC( the Everest base camp) and the other one was the “climb to Kala Pathar.”

Everest Base camp, or popularly known as EBC was both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time. It was special because, this is where those courageous souls gather before making an attempt to summit Mt. Everest. It was the truly majestic in that regard. However, the famous rock with EBC written over it was a little underwhelming. Even though I was one of the first ones to go and get a photo clicked because it meant a lot for me, I was also left wondering, why even bother to write this on a randomly huge piece of rock. But nevertheless, the place had its own charm. Once again, a huge glacier all around with towering mountain peaks and a degree of rawness to the beauty all around, made it worthwhile.

Next day, was the most anticipated day for me. I knew it was going to be challenging. Much more challenging than the Gokyo ri excursion or the climb over the Chola Pass. But I wanted to do it. And I was so excited about the challenges and the pain ahead that it made me question my own sanity. At 4am in the morning, once again I was ready. Small and consistent baby steps for the first 2 hours took us to very near to the top of Kala Pathar. In between we took sips of ice mixed with some water. The cold temperature pierced through all the layers and made me question my decision more than once. Why on earth was I subjugating myself to all this cold and pain and breathlessness? I could hardly feel my finger tips and toes. What was I trying to prove? And who was I trying to prove it to? I realized I wasn’t trying to prove anything. I was only doing it because deep down, it made me feel really happy. It made me feel alive. I made me feel like I belong. But this chain of thought was suddenly broken down by an excruciating pain I felt in all 10 of my finger tips.

It stood right in front of me. Not even 100 meters away. Or in the mountain terminology, another small ascent of 15 minutes at the most. And yet, I never felt further away from my dream spot…..

-Sriram 

P.S. Tried writing after a really long time. Pardon my errors and thank you if you read it all the way to the end. 

 

 

 

A trek to remember: The teaser

I found a secluded spot on the summit. I sat down in awe of the beauty and grandeur around me. I removed my shoes and socks in respect for the mountains which had allowed me to be there on that day at that particular moment. I opened my eyes wide to take in as much of the nature as I could. And suddenly my heart beat increased. It wasn't due to the exertion for I had prepared well. I felt a drop leave my eye. And before I could understand, my eyes filled up. And then what happened took me by surprise. Tears rolled down my eyes like some floodgates had been opened. I didn't understand what was happening to me. I was sobbing like a small kid. Thankfully I had my sunglasses for I didn't want anyone to know anything because I had no explanation for it. It just happened and then suddenly everything went calm. I sat still, soaking in and wondering at the same time. Was it tears of joy or was it some pent up emotions. Was I overwhelmed with the majestic mountains that stood around me or was it the vast endless meadows that made everything else so insignificant? Or was it my journey from being a fat lazy 34 year old to successfully summiting my first ever trek climb? I do not yet have all the answers. But I do know that in that moment, I felt my entire being. I felt both significant and insignificant at the same time. For a second, my entire life flashed in front of my eyes and then I forgot about everything and everyone else. I was just there breathing and my heart beating. I knew, at this time, in this moment, on this particular rock, I was meant to be. It wasn't my plan. It was as if all of my life; I had been slowly inching towards being here. It was the most beautiful moment of the most beautiful day of my life. I finally had begun to understand myself. I truly felt a connection with myself and my surroundings. I wasn't anymore a zombie like I often am. I wasn't the practical and diplomatic me. For the first time, in many, many years, I felt excited and calm all at the same time. I was both happy and sad. I felt a multitude of emotions which I thought were long dead within me. I felt alive. I knew I had changed for good. And I knew it wasn't the climax. The journey had just begun. 

I wasn't on the summit of a large mountain peak. I wasn't even on the summit of a tough trek. I was at 12000 feet of a relatively easy but beautiful trek. We call it Dayara Bugyal.   We all have our own Everest to climb. For the time, this was my Everest. It took a lot of resolve and hard work. The preparation took me out of my comfort zone. The injuries made me question my decision. The insecurities made me give up a couple of times. But in the end, my love for nature and mountains in particular, triumphed. And as I sit here back in my office, I can only thank my stars that I was able to see what I saw. That, I was able to feel what I felt. That,  I was able to experience what I experienced. And that I am one of those very few who caught such a lucky break on their first ever trek. Wide expanse of snow, beautiful crisp mountain views, charming forest trails, blooming flowers, beautiful weather and a group of amazing trek mates.

Our journey started with all of us assembling at our pick up point. We were unaware of the treat we were in for. We didn’t expect the strangers sitting around us to turn into really good friends in a short span of 96 hours. Some of us had already formed our bonds by the time we reached our base camp in Raithal. Solo trekkers didn’t feel solo anymore. The groups amalgamated and no one could make out who came with whom. While some enjoyed the chilly weather, a few dreaded the idea of -5 degrees. Some came for the photographs, while some to challenge themselves. Everyone had different expectations from the trek, but what was common was our love for the mountains. I never expected so much of variety and commonality at the same time. We were a group that had teenagers, students, professionals and businessmen. We were a group of crazy friends, solo treker, families, cousins, and even a father son duo. We were all from the west, the east, the north and the south. We were all so seemingly different and yet so similar. We didn’t know that the next ninety six hours were going to be so much fun and at the same time will change us for good. It ended up being so much more than that. Those 4 days took us through the very best of what nature had to offer. We got to see the most beautiful sights of our life. We got to drink the freshest water and the tastiest food. We saw the night sky in it full glory with millions of stars which is impossible in a city. We saw not one, not two but three shooting stars. We experienced snowfall, rainfall and hailstorm all within 2 hours of a single day. We got to see the beautiful snow capped peaks from up close while we walked on the beautiful green meadows. We made our own path as we walked on knee deep snow and then slid on the fresh snow while coming down. It tested our resolve and then woke up the child within us. The kids showed maturity while the adults relived their childhood. We all ended up being there for each other when it matter the most. The mountains brought out the very best in us and made us realize how significant and insignificant we are at the same time.

Kashmir: A Dreamland with million dreams.

If there is one place in India, every single one of us has wanted to visit at least once in our lifetime, it has to be the “paradise on earth”, Kashmir. And this is true not just for our generation but for people both older and younger. I guess our elders must have fantasized about visiting Kashmir after every movie they saw in their times just the way we have wanted to visit Switzerland after watching every Yash Raj movie. But owing to the political decisions or blunders if I could say and the circumstances, visiting Kashmir was always a farfetched dream for most parts of my school and college life. With the not so good ground realities and the icing done by the ever selective Indian media, most parents never took the risk to travel there. We came as close to Patnitop which 150 kms from Srinagar all the way back in 1998, but had to retreat and settle for Himachal because of the militant activities.

But thanks to forces beyond our control, the place has been relatively calm for the last three years. Mind you, the focus is on the word “Relatively Calm.”The regular feeds and beautiful photographs I received on my facebook page about my friends visiting this “Jannat” on earth added to my existing resolve to visit this place for once. Now if I were in college, I would have simply packed my bags and gone to this beautiful creation of God. But now that I am firmly anchored to my family, I took another step of calling up my senior who was posted in Srinagar to get some check on ground realities. He was more than helpful and even introduced me to his friend who manages a travel company in Srinagar. Anyways, I promised my wife a Kashmir trip on our anniversary given everything stays calm. After all the doubts and confusions and million changes in the plan we finally reached and enjoyed Kashmir to the fullest and even came back safely to now write this piece for my dormant blog.

Like any place worth visiting, Kashmir has its pros and cons. While its beauty is unparallel and comes as a very pleasant experience even after all the hype surrounding it; one has to be careful to not fall in the usual tourist traps in selected places. However, for me travelling to Kashmir ended up being much more than just enjoying its serenity.

The day we reached Srinagar, it was under curfew over the death of a civilian. You can imagine our utter disappointment when we came to know that it could be extended for another couple of days. But to our surprise our tour guide didn’t even bother. For him and rest of the population, curfew was a part and parcel of their lives. He assured our plans would remain unchanged, and he was right. The curfew was only restricted to the businesses being closed. The usual tourist spots were, as usual full of people owing to the peak season. While driving there, I asked if there was any theatre since I wanted to catch a movie may be late night. There came the first shock. Srinagar doesn’t have a single movie theatre. My instant reaction was “is it because a theatre is very susceptible to a militant attack?” I was wrong. “It is to safeguard our culture” came the reply. I tried hard to control my urge to react. So I enquired if they saw any movies at all. They did, on laptops and Television. I could hardly digest the underlying contradictions. Another thing I noticed was the dress code of females. It was surprisingly uniform. Not one exception to it. Irrespective of the age group, right from small kids to elderly females, everyone wore the same kind of clothing. This was once again attributed to safeguarding the culture. I won’t want to comment on this. In places where we live, seeing a Police, often erupts anxiety and bad thoughts. We often relate them to some unfortunate event having been occurred or about to. But there in Srinagar, Thanks to the Armed forces act,  I guess it’s a common sight to see army, CRPF and police holding automatic weapons and guarding the streets. Sitting in the front seat, I couldn’t help but ask our driver who seemed like an educated man from his demeanor, about his view of the heavy army presence. It was then that he seemed saddened and angry at the same time. The next hour or so, he spoke of the brutalities which we don’t hear very often in the news. He even showed his own bullet mark on his leg. He recalled about the torture his family had suffered and how his father was beaten in front of his family. He talked about people from his street that ran away to the neighboring country to the detriment of their respective families. He recalled how he and many others like him are seen with suspicion, wherever they go. He shared his plight on how they were tormented on the source of funds when he was able to construct a 3 storey house for himself. He mentioned about hundreds of missing kashmiri people. He showed what absolute power can do to a place. He went as far as claiming some of the famous names to be innocent and framed. When I asked him if people in Kashmir actually want to be a part of the neighboring country, he was crisp and logical. “Why would I want to be a part of another country, which itself is suffering from a major economic and socio-political crisis?” But he added, How long would I want to be a part of the country that treats us like an outsider and is ready to kill people just on a hunch or a doubt? He raised certain questions over the rationale of army presence to which I had no answers.

After the end of the discussion, some of his thought did seem to be farfetched; however, a majority of his grievances weren’t wrong. He like many others believe amending Article 370 is good for them even though their political representatives would never agree. He like many other knows, a lot of what happens in Kashmir has its roots in deep political and economic ambitions. He like, everyone else, wants and believes that Kashmir one day could be the place, it once was.

I for one am a fan of Kashmir. I was humbled by their hospitality and helping nature. I was forced to reframe my opinion about the people of Kashmir. In my 6 days of stay, I was gently made to believe through my experiences that people there are far more respectful and accommodating that in most parts of the country. I firmly believe they deserve to be treated well. I shall certainly visit this part of the country whenever I get a chance to meet such joyous, helping and charming people. And I hope I get to buy a piece of land to build my vacation home in the valley of Kashmir. It’s beautiful and really underpriced!!!

Journey back home

Talk about using multiple medium of transport in the same day and deciding within them in no time. With all the mixed feelings of leaving Mumbai, when I reached CST at 5 am sharp owing to my habit of being in time to catch my train, I was greeted by the coolies who with a straight face informed me about the delay. Rather delay seems to be an understatement. My train got delayed by 10 hours from the boarding point which basically implied by the time I complete my 27 hours journey to reach TATA, I would be running late by atleast 14 to 15 hours. For a second I felt if this is any indication to not leave the city and then snapped out of it as quickly as possible after reminding myself of the multiple signals I got to chase my other dream. For a few minutes, I really didn’t know what to do. So, I took the easiest way out. I called my dad for he has answers to almost all of my doubts. The problem in taking the delayed train was not of reaching late but being fully exposed to the upcoming verdict on Ayodhya and the risks of travelling after the sun sets in a stretch of almost 70 kms dominated ad ruled by the Naxalites. While the former was just a stretched form of precaution which I knew my concerned family would have wanted me to take, the latter was matter of common sense. No sane person would travel on that route once dusk settles. Even the police don’t. So why should I.

So now it was about which flight to take as I knew I am soon going to contribute big time in increasing the revenues of the loss making airline companies by not just paying for my tickets, but also for the excess luggage which was packed keeping in mind a train journey. Any which way, I rushed to the airport and for a change was pleased by the fact that I could still get the morning flight which was 2 grands cheaper than the one I was contemplating to book. However, the happiness simply vanished and I literally gasped for breath when I saw the total weight of my luggage. Well It was a little more than what one of my (ex)-roomies weighed, when he had his diet in control. I pleaded, negotiated, threatened and possibly used all the word and jargon I had in my kit to waive off some of the charges on excess baggage. But, I knew, I had no position to bargain and so the asshole sitting on the other side of the table took complete advantage of it and I ended up being a victim of corporate pricing of the luxury of carrying excess baggage to an extent which made me hate JET Airways. And, when I realized, I have paid more for my luggage than my ticket, it simply exaggerated my plight. Within few hours, I had ruthlessly reduced my hard earned money at a job which I just quit.

And amidst all this I yearned for some sleep which I hadn’t had for last 48 hours or more. But I guess, I had to remain deprived of that basic human need for quite some time. The problem is I can’t sleep in flight. So I just remained awake and even tough I was really hungry, I made sure I act miser enough to not pay even a dime more to the airline company which just took advantage of my situation.

I reached Kolkata, and was greeted by a hot and humid weather and people with moustache (which for many was denser than the ones present on the top of the skull. The prepaid taxi counter denied me a direct cab to my destination for apparently no good reason, once again leaving me to the mercy of the taxi cartel outside airport whose bread and butter comes from looting the newcomers through tampered meters and unreasonable fares. Anyways, for a change I wasn’t in that entire bad situation, as I did happen to have some idea of the city and so was able to cut a pretty decent deal. And for people who say Mumbai traffic sucks and Kolkata isn’t all that a metropolitan city, well it at least had a traffic worse than what we have in Mumbai or Delhi. The duration of my flight time and taxi time basically matched.

The bright side of the entire episode till now was, I got to meet my cousin after a very long time ad we had a good chit chat. Fortunately, I also could get a ticket to Dhanbad, which I didn’t really expect. After having a good time there, I once again left for the station hour and a half early which is generally a 5 minutes travel. But as expected today, transport hasn’t been the brightest side, I barely made it to the station 5 minutes before the departure, dripping with sweat and gasping for some air. I had a total recall of how I missed Rajdhani a few years back in a similar situation. Though History didn’t repeat itself and I could safely board the train.

And here I am now waiting to get down at Dhanbad and then drive back to my sweet home. The feeling of being back at home has already taken over me and I am only wondering what I am going to have for my dinner.  I am so much waiting for my late night long walks with Dad on our terrace. It had been a long while and it is once again going to be a long journey away from home after a fortnight. Till then, I hope, I have a great time with my family.

--- Sriram

Amidst the Mist...

Four souls walked on the road and all they could see was a dense white mist all around them. Walk 5 steps ahead and you are invisible to the people behind. The lights from the dipper of the vehicles acted both as a relief and horror with the moving dark shadows in the dim light. Be it my ex-roomie or my current, both did get scared at some moments; yet we continued to walk along, enjoying the exotic beauty just because we happened to be at the right place at the right time. Without any exaggerations of any kind, I must say it was one of the most beautiful and mystic sight we had all around us with the cool breeze sending a chill down our spine. It was a perfect moment. A perfect moment to have a Hukkah, a glass of whisky and a cup of tea. (not to forget the kanda bhajia).

As the smoke from the Hukka and mist amalgamated and created an all together different ambience for us in an otherwise a very usual place and the moonlight tried to pierce down the whiteness in the dark night, we laughed and shared talking the sensibilities and unusualness in an otherwise non sensible and common talks of life. Swinging between the past and future, we oscillated from dreams to memoires, punctuated with the small fights, claiming our turn for the hukka. . All four of us had a great time. I guess one of the most intense conversations we ever had together which we all would remember for a long time.

The next day we all went for the usual points where people gather, gaze and click to carry back the memoirs back to home. And while we were coming back, there was a peace of mind and a sense of happiness to have spent such amazing times together with my closest friends.

Without a doubt, it was one of my best weekends in Mumbai!!!

--- Sriram

Delhi Metro vs the Mumbai Locals

I had been hearing about the so called rapid changes in the infrastructure of New Delhi for quite some time now. Finally I got to spend my last weekend in the city which made me fall in love with it on the very first day that dates back to 14th July 2005. I have always been in love with this city and I still don’t really know the precise reason, nor do I have any idea for my disinterest in a city like Mumbai which attracts a huge population in the country.

Well I don’t intend to start comparing the two cities because I have my own biases. However, right now while I sit in the Rajdhani express with 5 more people who are in their late 70s enjoying their game of cards and with having made quite a lot of commuting in the Delhi Metro, I couldn’t help contrasting it with the Mumbai Locals.

First thing to notice in the Delhi Metro would be the usage of a popular electronic equipment, which basically lowers the overall temperature and avoids unwanted sweating (People call it AC). Life there does look beyond a “Vada Paav.” Earlier, when i used to travel by metro back in my graduation days, I hated all those people who seemed professional with their clothing, but pushed like maniacs to enter the evening train to Kashmiri gate. Well, this time all those people seemed so much friendlier and with heightened civic sense. After being pushed and crushed in the Mumabi locals, any damn fellow traveller in trains in any part of India would seem friendly. Even the ones in Gaya and some interior parts of Bihar, where somehow 8 people manage to sit in a place meant for a maximum of 4 people. Infact, I just remembered that the Delhi Metro doesn’t even discriminate like here in Mumbai. There’s no first or a second class. At some level, I highly appreciate that, especially after seeing how rude and arrogant people can get here in the locals if a person with an appearance of the so called second class accidentally enters the first class.

But my personal favourite about the Delhi metro is that the worst which can happen is to be forced to smell the mixture of different deodorants. Compare it to a heterogeneous mixture of the body odour which one has to experience in the Mumabi locals. And not to forget the pretty sight of beautiful creations of the almighty which you get to see in the metro and which is almost next to impossible in the locals.

No offence to the Kolkata Metro. I have travelled just once when I was a small kid. I have no memories except that the highest fare of Kolkata is lower than the lowest fare in Delhi. Anyways, Kolkata is better suited when we talk about the Bandhs, the Indian culture and the related stuff. Infrastructure is a far cry.

But I guess, now that I am back to Mumbai, life is back on the speed tracks of the locals. In Mumbai, it sometimes takes an entire lifetime for people to move to the fast tracks from the slow ones. (Copied from some bollywood flick). Hopefully I will be able to take it to a track which will take me to places I dream to reach...

---Sriram

Memoirs of PG-A Trip.... Part 2

Contd...

The night party

Earlier in afternoon lot of us were sceptical regarding the availability of our preferred drinks looking at the surroundings which suggested that we were surely in a village area. To this extent a few had even shown a little disappointment while others had already contemplated the option of DESI stuff. However as the night approached everyone was more than happy to have had a look at their own personal love in the shape of bottles of varying shapes and sizes. Form beer to vodka and from frooti to pepsi, we had all.

And there came Rajji who almost looked like a movable chips stall with a plethora of packets hanging on all his sides. Slowly people got into their moods as the liquid found its way from the neck to the belly and finally to the grey areas. While Kumar could be seen with an uncontrollable smile accompanied by Dada, Netaji preferred it clean. RD was his usual way while Ankur kept drinking from here and there boasting of his tenacity. Wadhwa was busy getting his pics clicked in the newly discovered “ Wadhwa Look” while Tarang kept entertaining us all by putting on better songs after the responsibility was taken away from RD. Deepak played a few melodious tracks for all of us which we very soon converted into a ruckus with our extremely tuneless yet enthusiastic voices. Milind sat all the time with the other Marshian (Read Vinie). Rest all of were too busy eating or rather throwing “Chana” on each other. I still don’t know why we found it so amusing then. But yes, we did. As the night passed, the otherwise sitting or lying souls all around, started to move in to the tunes of the typical Boolywood songs. Soon everyone joined the endless dancing which continued for quite a while. The only ones who didn’t were either those who had completely gone down or the ones holding the cameras. For more than the moment then, those pictures and videos is what we will treasure even more. It was almost 2:30 am by then, when people slowly moved into different corners. While some crashed on their beds, others started on to do what we are all best at. GOSSIP!!! Some went emotional talking about all the things we did or did not in the last two years. Some of us went out for a walk to catch up some fresh air. It would have been pretty creepy and scary out there, had we not been there in groups. It was an abandoned road with no lights and a constant voice of a few nocturnal. We came back by 3:30 by when almost everyone were in their dreamland. Rahul, Sammy, Aanand, Amit, Mani and Myslelf. The last few souls still wide awake. Well, there was another round of small talks, which most didn’t remember the next day. And as the time came for most people to wake up and do their daily chores, a group of people away from all the worries of the world went back to catch some sleep. After all it had been an amazing day and we did require some sleep to be rejuvenated enough to carry on the adventure, the next day.

DAY 2... The Staircase to heaven

As a matter of fact, we happened to be in a place also known as “DAKSHIN KAHSHI” which has a huge significance in the religion. It is one of those few places which have a SHIVALING which emerged from the mother earth. A beautiful temple has been constructed all around it, which is worth a visit. Also there is this Semi round circle which the visitors make and is known as “Staircase to heaven.” Well, leaving aside the religious significance and the interpretations, this staircase to heaven without a doubt lives up to its name. It is a staircase to the heavenly beauty which one can experience moving along the path. It is a staircase to one of the best panoramic view of the sea in between the two mountains. Even though we could get a chance to watch the sunset form there, the view we had was indicative enough of the beautiful sunset one can watch from there. And it is undoubtedly a staircase to the heaven of emotional liberation and a way to connect with people around us. A place where peace of mind and tranquillity finds its way into the hearts of visitors and refills their life with a sense of pride and enthusiasm which we tend to lose in the cobweb of our rituals. And as I write about the experiences we all had, I am once again drawn to the beauty and serenity of the place.

As we all had slept at different times, we all went there in different groups. Amit, Rahul, Aanandji and I went and were totally dumbfounded and amazed looking at this beautiful canvas which the nature had painted all so well with all shades of colours. We went about appreciating every big and small thing all around and trying to capture every single moment in frames. We even tried to climb the insurmountable hills around us, but quickly came down after getting a few frames captured to showcase our fake courage and extreme passion to get clicked. As we climbed down those staircase we were once again welcome by yet another vast stretch of sea with hills on oe side and dark rocks on the other. It kind of gave it a class touch and we all in a second realized that this was what we were looking for. The perfect place to feel the cool breeze blowing across the face; to feel the cold water beneath our feet and touch the hot hard rocky hill punctured by the strong tides, which over the years have made holes in those hard rocks. As we moved and walked o those rocks our minds traversed the entire universe of thoughts and found the philosopher, the lover, and the achiever hiding within us. It is so amazing to realize and observe the forces and actions of the nature and draw inspiration from them. While to some the waves appeared to be the difficulties in life and compare themselves to the ever determined rocks unperturbed by them, others found the depth of the sea comparable to their own love and the stormy waves to the occasional wildness and energy in their own passionate story. Not to mention some who found the waves to be like a series of multiple orgasm, you experience while doing the activities you enjoy the most. Certainly there is something enigmatic about this. How easily we are lost and gravitated to an entirely different world all together.

We had to depart by 1 so we all hurried up to reach our hotel and packed up only to visit another beach 40 kms from where we were.

Reaching DiveAgar

We all moved from there to our next destination. Harsh as expected took the first chance to take the back seat with Rahul who had all alone drove 200 kms to be with all of us. And, it was quite expected of him to do so. After all he is one of the most active PGAite always ready for some new adventure. I wonder if anyone else would have been so passionate for a class trip to have rode a bike so far in such a hot sunny weather. Anyways, as we reached Dive Agar, we were way to hungry and after a lot of effort and discussions, we found some place to have satisfied our bellies which had been food deprived for more than a couple of hours. No wonder, we even threw stones to pluck some mangoes on our way and ran before the owner could find us. Tarnag’s height was particularly useful in this case. We were getting late so we hurried up to the beach through a shortcut which happened to be pretty interesting. Sana kept clicking all the fruits, vegetables and leaves which she found in the way and rest of us competing to be clicked. The best part was the way the hills and the pseudo jungle ended and we had a beautiful white beach right ahead of us. More importantly, it was even more beautiful than the previous one. Magnificent, Marvellous, Mind-blowing... The only words I could think of to describe the beautiful thing lying ahead of me.

As per the plans we were to say there only for an hour, but we all knew, it wasn’t possible. It had to be more than that. As usual some immediately ran into the wet sands, while others started walking bare feet on the sands of memories which were to be formed. Some of the adventurous kind took to the adventure sport while the lazy bumps like me took to a cart ride. We engraved “PG-A on the sands only to be eternalized into the lanes of the memory and so did some other names.

Suddenly we found a camel too and instantaneously HK and Vineeta went for a ride. One could clearly see the happiness and excitement on their face as the camel stood up. Milind and I took up the second round and reached just in time to be the part of the class picture which included all 29 of us. And it was certainly an awesome feeling to be in that pic on the top of a camel ;).
As the sun came lower on the horizon and was on its way to set, it was time. A beautiful and a memorable trip almost neared its end. We had to get out of the Hilly region before it went dark. So, we all walked back to the bus.

Return back to the hostel

All good things come to end, and so had our trip. Tired and exhausted, we all lay on our seats reminiscing the moments we shared in the trip. With some sudden bursts of energy a few of us sang to the tunes of friendship and inspite of our unmelodious voices, the songs we sang appeared to be better than rest of the world. I sat there in my seat looking out of the window and as the hills and the tress ran past behind me, I closed my eyes in an effort to capture all the beauty that lay around. It is paradoxical, but the times when we feel lonely are mostly when we are amongst a big group. Suddenly I did feel that unpleasant feeling of being separated from all those people who now are almost like a family. A family, with all the differences, yet possessing a strong bond which is unbreakable; a family which has been there at all the times of happiness and crisis; a family which will be measured not in 2 years or 730 days, but in those innumerable moments we shared together. Engrossed in my own thoughts I even typed up a short poem (which I posted a few days back) and slowly fell into the dark and bright world of sleep and dreams. Woken up by a jerk, we had almost reached Mumbai. We had our dinner and with some more episode of melodrama, action and emotion entered our hostel.

We all were both tired and fresh and not knowing what to do, I just lay awake on my bed, eyes wide open, thinking about the all the time we had in after coming to Mumbai and the little time left. I hope we have a few more such moments in days to come. Caught in the complex cobweb of emotions, I just had a smile which slowly faded as I drowned in sleep and could only think this,

“The PG-A trip was over.” But it was one of the best trips I ever had.

---Siram ( Lucky to be a PGAite)

Memoirs of PG-A Trip.... Part 1

I sat in my room all alone, having nothing to do. One of my roomie had gone to watch LSD which happens to be a C grade movie and the other has off late started sleeping pretty early by hostel standards. But lucky for me, I got the recent video which RD made taking the selected pictures from the class trip we just had. It would be least to say that the video he made out of those stills will be treasured by all of us in years to come. 5 years down the line, when most of us would be married and probably would be doing our very best in our chosen fields and yet feel something missing; I for sure would probably open up these videos and trip folders and be happy about the fact that, once upon a time, we were all so carefree.

As of now, I am a little way to overwhelmed, but still would like to give a shot at writing something about the trip. The first and may be the last trip of PG-A.

Well, the conceptualization of the trip had been taking place from a long time. I guess ever since we joined the course. But somehow, it never materialized. But this time when Rajat called up a meeting in the green benches, we knew its either now or never.

After all the possible ideas and itineraries and the usual chaos and MBAgiri, Harihareshwar was the place we all agreed upon. Dada was the trip manager this time and so we knew, everyone’s going to work. Responsible citizens of PGA like Akhil, Milind and Aanandji along with a few more were to decide on the accommodation and the usual finances while Rajat took care of booking an entire bus for all of us. Once again, there were a series of chain mails on the group which has always been the way of life for all of us. The night before, the number came up to be 27. After a lot of talking and special request from the other side of the hostel, Wadhwa too agreed. Rahul had an interview so he was supposed to reach there by himself.

The journey Begins:

Contrary to our behaviour and against our comfort, we all had decided to depart by 5:30 am. I know, it does sound kind of impossible, especially for people like us who sleep by 4am. But quite surprisingly, we all did manage to get in the bus at 6:30 which was truly an achievement! No wonder Pikolo (Anupam) was the last to board the bus. Ad with this started our road trip. It was pretty new to experience that smooth breeze early in the morning while it was still a little dark. Most of the people dozed off within an hour except a handful of us, who were busy adjusting the speaker and playing Dumb charades. From one game to another, from Antakshari to all the mindless pictures we took, it was all so much of fun and frolic. Wadhwa was on a photo shoot spree while Gaurav and a few more got busy with cards. While the Netaji of our class enjoyed the panaromic beauty, a few of us moved from one activity to the other and the rest with a camera were busy clicking the sleeping beauties of the class in their most unusual positions.

As the sun moved up in the sky, the hungry lot (ie. All of us) commanded for a breakfast stop. I am sure the owner of the Milan resort would thank his stars for 29 of us would have given him more than a week’s business in one time. After we gobbled and satisfied our never ending desire of food, we were once again on roads, this time only to stop at the destination. After a long wait and the drive through the dusty roads and the beautiful hills, we finally could see the extended beach with dark sad and a land so much unexplored. Suddenly inspite of all the humidity and heat, we all were excited and advanced towards our hotel (if i could call it so).

We reach Harihareshwar:

While some slept and a few watched the IPL match, around 15 of us found a common interest ( so to say) and started playing “Chidya Urr” and another game (I forgot the name) where we were supposed to enact in a particular way. Well Sonam did a brilliant task of moderating us and it was beyond a doubt refreshing. I still laugh and smile when I think about it. Those were the games which we played in our high school picnics and once again, while we are on the verge of completing an entire phase of life, we got back to that same age old games. And not to forget the next session of Dumb charades and Killer. (people seemed to have loved being allowed to wink once again after a long time so much so that HK took the liberty to do that inspite of he not being the Killer;)) One could only imagine the love for this game by the fact that people got a little reluctant to even get ready to go to the beach.

At the beach:

All ready and in shades of the colours of rainbow, 29 excited souls reached the beach where, they were welcome by the vast stretch of soft dark sand and the fresh salty water of the sea touching the feet. The first step into the water is the most relaxing and serene. It gives you such a different feeling all together... Free from the daily rituals and the hassles. Out here in the nature’s lap free from all d worries and the responsibilities. A place where one gets a chance to be himself. A place where I meet myself. As I got lost in my own world as I took a step each into the salty water, all the swimmers were already far ahead of me diving and moving with the tides. Some started to swim, while a few played with the ball and a few hydrophobic stayed away. As the sun set, we played and played and played till it was all dark. Tired and exhausted we all came back only to get fresh and start the photo session once again.

The night party and day 2: Contd...

---Sriram ( Lucky to be a PGAite)

Drifting

Last evening while a group of 29 souls were traveling back to hostel after having an amazing class trip, I too was one of those basking in the light of happiness and moments which will form the central theme of all the memories we will have in years to come. While I gazed into the horizon sitting on a window seat in bus, something struck me and I just felt like scribbling. No pen and a paper so I had to do with my Nokia’s message box. And finally after a gap of more than a month, all those scribbling and thoughts took shape of a small poem.

This is all I could type on my cell phone before I fell asleep amidst the chirping sounds of the returning birds and the cool breeze which touched across our tired yet rejuvenated face.

Across the long dusty roads

I look at those majestic hills

Deep orange leaves swirl with the romantic moods

While we speed past the hills on the wheels

On my left are the green mountains

While a deep valley on the right with basins

Lands I see are both barren and green

Leaves my mind so fresh, so clean

As the sky changes the colour and hues

And the sun turns red to redder

Illuminated and mystified my souls is

The song in my hear just got good to better

While I gaze to see the setting sun

I am reminded of the life full of fun

And as the sky grew dark and darker

I gradually felt like drifting closer and farther

---Sriram