Friday, March 29, 2013

Sad Bus Travel

Feel stupid, feel naked, feel annoyed. And I'm paying 1200 bucks for this bouquet of negative emotions. Thanks UPSRTC, and thanks Delhi.
So it happens, add I just discovered enroute a bus journey to Delhi (in a Volvo, which is supposed to be the luxury way to bus travel, and costs thrice or more than the normal ticket) that the Delhi rape incident has affected our bus travel. Apparently, that crime inside a moving bus prompted the authorities to reach a decision to remove curtains from all buses - this far I'm only certain of the UPSRTC doing it. So now the passenger who pays a premium travels like a mannequin on display for all the traffic to see. Way to go.
Hope this stops all rape, especially since a curtained-moving-bus makes for the scene of crime for a majority of the rapes in or country... yeah?

So, traveling in luxury feels humiliating now. I guess someone is left happy.

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Love Letter

Though I'm enjoying a basket chaat right now, at Royal Cafe in Lucknow, nothing sweeter could make my day.
So, as one can see I have a superawesome new girlfriend now, who wants to (onto) hold my hand and stay with me!



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Thursday, March 28, 2013

Life planning day

In this part of India, there is a strange practice - the day following Holi is a siesta day ie everybody in the household rests, nobody in the household upto anything productive, even the food is the leftovers from the day of Holi so that the women needn't bother even at the mealtime. Well, at my home, and relating to my life in general, it was the opposite case. I greeted my parents a morning, to be handed a sheet in return, an important piece of paper outlining my options for the pursuit of a masters degree. Not even I myself had ever thought this hard into it. Now I need to look it all up. And think harder.

Then got on the phone with a flummoxed Naye, who left me with the realization of the long path of my alternate professional pursuits - things that need to be done and the pace demanded. Even before I could breathe the fresh air of some Himalayan valley, I'd need to saturate myself with several Newtons of indoors.

And then my uncle handed me a newspaper clipping about SKP-isation which would ensure a smart and productive future. Dunno how long he'd kept the clipping with him.

People are trying to see me change into a feasible organism, one who can live off and contribute back to the social setup in some way. Ah damn.

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Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Holi brief

Holi. I did not play holi. But I did go out with my best friend S to the #8 and further bit more ahead. Various hues on men tripling on bikes, with silver and gold paint smeared across the faces. They looked very friendly and happy.

There were unlit Holi bonfires; the police must be angry because people damage the trees and phone lines in vicinity of these bonfires; or maybe it was due to bad wood that didn't burn properly.

There was a dead body at the square, the one near the temple near the railway line. There was a fat man who, like a ragdoll, was slouched against the electricity pole. His face was all smashed up, such that neither me nor S could call him human, and he wasn't moving. Our eyes were fixed on him as we passed the square. My friend asked me to take a picture; "Take a picture," he said. I didn't have a camera. After I said "good bye" to S who was going to see T and have some alcohol and pepsi cola at T's house, I returned back the same way as the dead fatso. The dead fatso moved, it was a relief to learn that he was alive. It was Bhang, obviously; Bhang is a substance that makes people go crazy. But more than the Bhang, it was what others did to him - the liberal use of paint and sprays - that had us tricked into thinking he was oozing things that make people dead.

My walk back home was more exciting. Families playing Holi had got done with it; now it was the kids who were left to focus on the innocent wayfarers passing their bungalows. I also found my predators, two kids armed with water guns with large ammo (i.e. water tanks) and balloons. This one guy went ahead of me and got splashed. I was smart - I kept myself on the heels of that person, and soon as the first wave of assault ended, I dashed for escape, the kids caught unaware in astonishment. The prey outrunning the predator. I didn't get wet. Thank heavens.
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Monday, March 25, 2013

Another first time

Went there and saw this..

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Friday, March 22, 2013

Guhagar

Bharat ek khoj types days

Day whatever of this trip, and a day by which we find ourselves halfway of where we were supposed to be, to make amends to which we're resigned to bus travel through the entire day. Even the original plan has now been revised - we learnt of coral reefs and scuba diving at Tarkarli, so instead of Goa, that is where we're now heading to. We go from Guhagar-Chiplun-Malavan; this is again a revised route from this morning's as we'd set out to Ratnagiri only to find the bus rolling out while we were busy with the Rasvada, Missile Pav, and tea. 1am being the time for the next bus, this was the best possible move instead of sitting lamenting at the bus station.

The bus ride is gonna take an entire day, with a switch involved at Chiplun. No clue of the kilometres involved. Presently we are moving away from the coastline, to rejoin it at the end of our day's journey, which means hotter climate and no oceanic aromas for the next 8 hours. in consultation with our prized new possession of a detailed region's map, it seems Chiplun would be a better deal for us since we should then be riding the big fast Mumbai-Goa highway until we again get off it some X km (X <=20) from Malvan.

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Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Location update

Sunset at the lonely front of Guhagar beach in the Konkan belt... WIN
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Monday, March 18, 2013

This is how we roll

Its not even been 24h on the road. But Kashid is where time froze in the face of adventure.

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Thursday, March 14, 2013

Bazinga, Kashmir

Do you believe the irony... Just yesterday I publish this video compilation of the magic experienced in Gulmarg, Kashmir. Nothing but paradise would've been the appropriate title, such amazing the experience was. While a Afzal Guru (or the end of his) did tense us upon arrival, and the hyderabad blasts made the return a palpitating climax in the face of a curfew, the paradise was anything but tainted.
And then yesterday, the Kashmir valley saw it's most brutal terrorist incident. Just yesterday, the paradise I had been going gaga about to everyone I know saw blood, in place as innocent as a cricket playground.

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Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Outbound for Mumbai

Exit to Mumbai. Presently at NZM. The train is delayed by a couple of hours, so everyone cognizant of that fact is now making twisted faces and bears an existential sideways profile. The wiser - or the more tired and hungry - like me have made it to Comesum and having some calories.

That delay isn't driving me crazy - the afternoon has been sufficiently crazy, me making double the distance on the bike than expected, thanks to last minute fixes needed on the just-serviced Godiva that screwed up with my zen plans for the day. But that she is now ready to leave, albeit as registered luggage in the luggage van, makes me happy. Just hope it'll be secure and undamaged 17 hours in transit for her.

My total wait, once I got done with booking the bike, is going to be 3h 10m. Grunt. No wonder today's date has not one, but two 13s in it. Wish me luck.

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Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Paradise

While the world deteriorates under forced employment and general casualness towards life, I spend another day caved at my home, loitering about, and delving into the forced motion of Timoshenko beams. It was curiosity that drove me to another untiring day - "what if the 12th of march of 2013 were a cold-blooded day". The warm blooded occupant of my home for the day (i.e. me) piled up hasty and unhealthy calories, of an assortment of foodstuff. Not much fretting about the bike that wasn't sounding the way it should, or the unfulfilled checklists, or the tent conundrum; no, these were relegated - part of an evolutionary-stable strategy - into the "tomorrow", a concept which works very well with the intention being of being a dick.

The only thing I focused on was translating my perception of Gulmarg - where I spent a coupla weeks - as a paradise, through the aid of Vegas, and to the words of Mr. Coldplay.

Paradise - Gulmarg from uhbiv on Vimeo.

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The pushing

The world that drives me mad
Into her arms
The world that drives me back
into her arms
The words that pull her back
into my arms
The worlds that push her back
Into my arms

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Sunday, March 10, 2013

Random thoughts for 10th of March, 2013

Random thoughts...
for 10th of March, 2013.
It appears this is my first entry in 3 weeks.
Sand is overrated - it's just tiny little rocks.
If only I could meet someone new.
I guess my chances of that happening are somewhat diminished, seeing that I'm incapable of eye contact with a woman. I don't know.

I take back my vacant post of an lazy-indoor-bum-cum-scribbler-in-private, and resieze the instrument of narration and engine of truth, the hilt of the pen, and begin away. There's a lot of the past to smear on these pages, so this will take a while. Now that I've started, the start itself deserves another almond from the kitchen, and maybe another glassful of the Kinnow sherbet.

I'm starting on a Sunday, in-between meeting friends and allies, and ignoring the ticket I've to get done to seal my fate and set my sail towards Mumbai. It was an accidental encounter of a research work on the protonic transport in ionic liquid incorporated cellulose acetate, that brings me to this present state of a lingering ambivalence. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was just playing alongside, and I couldn't escape the idea of resuming my diaries with Jim Carrie's.

What Jim's going on about is the exact opposite of what's going on about me. He's going on and on about his condition of being alone... so one can guess about mine. The crazy thing IS that had this movie torrent download been done by the time I was leaving out for Gulmarg (20 days back), or even ((a week)+1)days back, I would've identified with Jim's prose and appreciated it from a different perspective - such identification [with Jim's character] would've been kinda misrepresentational of myself (not to mention campy and overly dramatic), but hey it was some close interpolation of how I could see myself in some time. But things had to change for the good, I guess. The way my experiences are growing better almost brings out a foolish belief in a divine power.
I met Gulmarg, I met snows, and I met a curious girl in those snows. The rest is history in the making.
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