Showing posts with label manali. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manali. Show all posts

Friday, August 10, 2012

Deriving from Nightmares


Ideally, the word 'scared' shouldn't feature in the dictionary of adventure, yet, I did start with bits of it in my psyche as I left for my latest adventure. However, that which just happened - even before the adventure could begin - to leave me shaking, was outside my expectations.

It is a dream nightmare I talk about - In my hours of wakeful dreaming, I have been 'dreaming big' (as they teach you to), and trying to represent myself in guidance of this (juvenile) framework as well, but in my hours under free reign of the subconscious - where there are no boundaries - the plot twists and constructs itself as one of the most detailed an saddening experience I've ever "felt". For one brief moment, I was convinced I was staring into the real face of humanity.

Interpret me the dream that goes like this.

I was in this expansive hill town (Manali itself?), and out to see a friend, who arrives in a Jeep to pick me up, alongwith a handful of other buddies of his. As we drive across the town, I meet eyes with one of my newer acquaintances; we wave to each other silently.

Soon our jeep stops somewhere - but its not where it was supposed to. I get a hunch that there's something wrong. I try to flee, but face resistance. A cop arrives with an electric baton and starts at me; the hits are painful, as electricity numbs my feet. I don't give up and fight hard, but ultimately am overpowered and taken a captive.

Next I wake up in a private estate of sorts. I'm told that there's no way to escape.
I'm also told that I will have to fight for survival - there will be one challenge after another. However, there's a creative twist - that failing to win my challenges will lead me to a life like "this"... my eyes come to stop at a sprawling garden, reminding me of Eden, and inside there are a lot of people, in their abandon, naked, living a life of luxury, sipping beverage from their colorful glasses, enjoying saunas, swimming pools.
If I continue fighting and winning my challenges, I'm told, I don't get any of this. But there was no further explanation of this road forward. No ultimate destiny of a winner was explained.

So I'm locked in these confines forever - a kind of everted Battle Royale format.

All I could comment is, that nearing Manali, at the gates of the big adventure, I met my demons.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Eunuchs and Baba

Writing just to fight off sleep, which always grips me somewhere between these hours and hampers productivity. I’m not very productive anyways, at least not towards the role I’m supposed to be playing in the office, but being a pseudo-manager of this place, and expecting eunuchs* to raid the office anytime for a Diwali ‘chanda’ and aim for my ball-sac if I’m seen snoring, I’d rather be on alert.

Yes, eunuchs drive my days this week. They were here last Saturday, when I was partway-sleepy partway-high (on Bhang), and we had a really incoherent communication, with me trying to explain there is no ‘Boss’ in the office, and offering them Rs. 10 to make peace, which they mocked, and left with threats to visit the coming week. They expect at least a few hundred, I assume (I was off-mark in my assumption, as explained below).

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Apple Girl postcard from Manali

Things that are meant to be shared, but are hard to keep part with. This photo, well is actually a postcard, was picked up at Manali. The intent to keep this one defeats the original purpose for it was made for - to be sent to friends afar. I think it comes under the same situation as a beautiful stamp, which people'd rather collect than use on a snail mail.
Say, if a chair comes under use as a table, would it still be called a chair?


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

I literally, like, died there, dude

Adventurally-isolated Indians have a way of exaggerating anything that is remotely adventurous. They then deify it too. Then come the falsifications.

Thus a small trek in the Nainital forests becomes a "battle against survival", a trip to Kedarnath becomes "playing at God's footsteps", a trek to Vaishno Devi becomes "a miracle story", and a hired-taxi ride to Rohtang Pass wearing ridiculous astronaut suits becomes the last word in adventure for a huge chunk of populace - the only thing bigger than this is when you also hire those unimaginative wooden sledges at Rohtang Pass, pushed by skinny Nepalis, who take your picture then push you off the snowy/muddy slope at the guarantee of a harmless slow descent. That's one up on life!

Tuesday, July 05, 2011

Creature diaries

Somewhere close to Balu Ka Gera - beyond the exploited hills of Manali - a slender blotted figure steps out from his den as the moon moves into its latter half of this night. There's nothing to claim for novelty today, as always. Life has been routine; rains have been hard and troublesome; prey has been playing the vanishing act. "Thing are not sane," he begrudges to his own self in a moment of soliloquy. His tiny cushioned paws distort the fabric of the damp Earth and his insignificant choice over his direction leaves a significant trail - one which he hopes some nihilist deer would follow to feed itself to this beast in these hard times. He has not been particularly hungry, thanks to his lately-sedentary lifestyle, but seeing the bounties nature has the herbivores stocking on, he is tempted into hunger in sheer envy.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Under the same canopy

It is through the iron grille that we see the full moon tonight, through the floral concrete patterns that we smell the cultured, sieved, and polluted air tonight; we see the trees in a deprived state of solitary abandon; and then mix these images with the drone of the electric wires above, the cacophony of human commotion, the sight of admonition of towers towering above these trees and lurking as a challenge to the yet-unconquered skies, the sight of human needs, the sight of right angles that menacingly threaten to pierce through the chest of the thin air and wipe out the fractals, of things both harmful and tender constructed together, a pervading wail that comes from the crores of dead souls underneath the tarmac and the concrete, of a smell of a large funeral pyre of all that we produced for all that we burnt away.

Sunday, June 05, 2011

je ne veux pais travailler

Bob Dylan, Lou Reed, Je ne sais pas (while I actually wanted to convey 'je ne veux pais travailler'), Le minimum... these fill the air dense with the smoke on this evening as I study the kinetic theory of gases, right out in front of the hotel room, with a Frenchman, and a young Japanese who either is multilingual, or is speaking as garbled an English that it sounds like French. Another Jap - an older lady who seems in relation to Mr. Miyagi guy from the Karate Kid movies - sits in the verandah by herself as she lays engrossed in a book, and occasionally notices and greets passerbys, one of whom was that Jap I am with, another a Sadhu-Baba in saffron, and one primitive-man-Bob-Marley hybrid with long crazy locks and a तानपुरा (Tambura) in hand.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Highly high in the heights

Could I even imagine myself
Even half-there again?
Shivering, as I toss about
sandwitched between Saum's rale
and Ronnie's uneasy snores.
Shivering, as I reach for the headlamp
and flood Aadhar's contorted face with bright white -
the unorganic shapes that constitute his whole
protest and gesture, seething in anger, warning in pain.

Fidgeting with my bag, fighting with my hair
stuck among the zipper's teeth
finally wrenched free for a minor sacrifice of a few strands.
A cosmic lust takes over, and,
shivering even more I step out into those neverlands that are
a distant conception briefly manifest at this hour.

Shivering, as I trudge blindly on the soft mossy soil,
swept away, as the arms of nature
grip and lift me, high like a child,
raising me to the breasts,
and the mental machinery sets into motion
as the rest of me lapses into a stasis
that forewarns of hypothermia.

This could be the last I breathe.

Like on a deathbed, my head slowly tilts either side
only to study the obscurity of the terrain and the faraway lonely lights of Manali, when
whispers of a freshwater stream nearby comes to console your senses.
Then the head turns skywards, accompanied by deeper breathing and shorter spasmodic shivers:
the sky draped round my shoulders illuminated by an infinitesimal stars that
compel my heart to break into a song while
their the mute, affirming stare awakens inside the concept of pure being.
The ears still listen intently through the skullcap to pick upon the sounds of some forest creature, but finds none -
Even the foxes on the adjacent hill playing into last minutes of dusk have retired into a slumber.

"Couldn't do better on this day, could you?"
you tell yourself at 3800m,
that you must follow such spirit with more of the same.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Back from the distant lands




I have just been back from Leh. An exciting 15-day long trip. Accompanying me was Deepak, my college friend (and an yr senior). If you'd hand me a long list of must-visit places in and around Leh, and ask me to put a tick against those that we managed to visit, the list would turn up almost blank. This has been the subject of irritation for some of my friends. What the hell were we upto, after all? 15 days for nothing? Where was the fun?

Actually, by the time we reached Leh, our trip was officially over. Over, for it was a trip from Manali-Leh. On bikes.
Bikes = Mountain Bikes ~ Cycles

The last line managed to evoke some very amusing reactions. Not many people do this kinda stuff, least of all the Indians - no offence, but they prefer to fly to Leh; or at the most extreme ride on motorcycles. I'll commend the foreign crowd for such efforts, but even they have expeditions in groups of 4 or above, with the support crew right behind in huge SUVs and all their equipment neatly tucked into those monsters. In comparison, there were just the two of us carrying everything that we required for the next couple of weeks - clothing, sleeping bags, tent, food, cooking equipment, cutlery, spare parts, electronic gadgets - on our backs and bicycles. That puts us in one small family, for very few others share similar experiences. Couple that with the _extreme_ (I'll assert) shortage of cash that we faced, and our circle becomes even more isolated.

Our experiences are almost overwhelming. We dissected through the highest and the least inhabited regions of the planet. We pitched our tent in the middle of nowhere on many nights, and nervously went off to sleep under the most clear of skies we had ever seen in our lives. We spent time with people from different walks of life and with different tribes. We were also witness to a cruel incident involving the majestic wildlife.

I am in Delhi now, having good food and good meal, assured of a comfortable sleep. But I still recall the evening I was all alone on the second highest motorable pass of the world, all exhausted with any remaining will to move ahead gone with the last drop of water in my bottle. Something kept me inching forward, until I made it all the way. The thoughts of glory that lay ahead, perhaps. Survivial insticts - that seems more logical (and less poetic).

Me and Deepak have plans to compile our experiences under a single domain and put that online in the form of a Travelogue, or better - an ebook of some sorts. I will start work on it as soon as all our pictures are compiled and arranged. I did start with a diary at Manali but as the days went by, it became more and more difficult to maintain it, so that is would be kinda backlog that I'll have to finish up. Nevertheless, I'm not letting this one go down my priority list too soon.