Chronicles of an Eclectic Life: nainital

Showing posts with label nainital. Show all posts

Showing posts with label nainital. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 02, 2017

a trail two days ago

returned back having absorbed all dew of the morning and being absorbed in the experience that i could recollect in vivid detail even a coupla days after.

a new route was found on an adjacent hill face, that could make for a perfect trail loop for subsequent mornings. i'm waiting for my knee to heal further, and also acquire a pair of new trail runners, to start a new chapter - hope to beat wisdom.

the D was a great company on the trail - my free as in freedom canine friend who is made for great journeys. he has upped my awareness quotient when out there. today we climbed through thick undergrowth, forest, then grass, some scree, and the rare vertical face, but he lead much through and was where I wanted to be before I.

i only wonder how great it must feel for dogs who have better sensory faculties (hence, inputs) when it comes to smell, hearing, taste (we don't taste our environment at all). visual acuity, maybe we do better in, but the rest should produce a very different sensory palette.

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Tuesday, November 29, 2016

A Worrisome Morn

This organism was awake much before dawn. It was chilly when that happened, which pushed him back into sleep, which ended after a lengthy battle with the morning alarm. It was still chilly when the reawakening happened. Since there was no time to be wasted, the organism "rose" to the challenge to find some time to waste. Then when the wasted time had been impressively wasted, some agency dragged the organism out, with the daybreak about to commence.

The initial understanding was to do a graveyard run. My organism was directed there upon stepping out, making it all the way to join the roadhead. However, seeing that it was already past 6, a return no sooner than 8 was forecasted, and thus the idea was switched for a shorter one - the JMB loop, which forecasted an earlier return. Why the return time was important was, because baby bro needed assist during his exit to office, and that exit also meant somebody had to be around, with me being the only other occupant of the house presently - hope it's understandable.

In a coupla minutes, I was at the Parao. Then came the odd news through HD (who mans a teashop in the early hours of the day ), that Lalu Prasad was missing. LP, in this context, is my favorite village mutt, who I tend to write about and interact with - maximally, of all canines - in the days out here. As per HD, he hadn't shown up since the day before. "Lagta hai bagh le gaya usko," ("seems that he's fallen prey to a leopard") HD had figured. It induced serious guilt, as t'was with me that he had hiked up through the forests the day before, an equation between man and canine that was cut short halfway when a pack of dogs came in from the other side, to scare the mutt away (as noted here ). Couldn't believe that he hadn't returned since. Wishing HD a nice day, I proceeded onwards with a perturbed mind.

Then the run happened - things that feel horrible when at it, but amazing afterwards. I still clock ~15 minutes for the ~3km stretch from Parao to JMB. As noted a minute into the run, it took me another 14mins to get there, which included a coupla breaks for photos and connecting my earphones. That I'd made it to the summit before the sun could show up was credible enough for my day, which had started in a lackluster manner. The mountain edges were layered with distinct colors of the spectrum. Then came out the sun, a small orange-pink blob for a brief moment feigning the appearance of the upper lip, which had me wishing I had a coupla lips to bite at that moment which felt so grand and romantic.

Then the walk back - with a rock in hands, to work out some upper. These coupla times that I've tried it, I have felt stupid for not doing it earlier. Any natural weight is a versatile thing. There are many motions and lifts to be done, and several muscle sets (esp smaller muscles) to be worked in isolation. As a wannabe-climber, I was impressed by how a lump of nothing gave so many holds to practice by the way of arrangement of fingers around it, making it worth something. It was planned to carry the rock all the way home, and paint a smiley face on it, and keep it forever, but alas, a fall on the floor, and it came apart in wafers (typical of the lithos this side).

Through the run, I had a new song on repeat - Miike Snow's "Genghis Khan", which talks of a strange (noncommitted?) equation between two people, still possessive of each other after they chose to keep distances.

I get a little bit Genghis Khan
I don't want you to get it on
With nobody else but me

These lines make for a catchy chorus.
And this video tops it too..

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Sunday, November 27, 2016

Summing Up Today

Today was an inverted one.. lived by the morning, and death practise (ie sleep) much through the day. First ensued an insomniac's night, swinging in and out of scattered thoughts; then a hasty 30km drive to fetch bro in the pre-dawn hours; then nearly 3-hours in the outdoors for a workout, priming my organism to privations of the future; then watering the lawn, fourth day of trying to figure out how to grow a nice one; then a breakfast; and since then.. restlessness which gave way to sleepiness which turned to sleep which recently concluded. As the organism stirred into agency, Bro called with something stupendous to tell - that he had just sighted a leopard on his way back from the office. Thoughts then meandered into the wild (indoors cannot take the outdoors out of context). Now they get a break, to focus inwards, and be upto this.

Most to detail on is the morning workout - the route ended being longer than I'd conceived while leaving out, and so the experiences numbered more, as did the thoughts that came while experiencing (also dissociating). I'd walked out for just a hike up to AluK, as it was already past 7AM (the time by which I should be on the way back, since the sun is no fun so long after a sunrise).

It was probably the village mutts that joined me up that induced the feeling to go further - it felt like taking kids out, showing them around, pointing out alarm, the synchronised cycle of going ahead and falling back which kept them vacillating between the feeling of cautious discovery and comfortable self-absorption. They were considerate enough to reciprocate, coming along without questioning - only when a pack of noisy dogs came running their way shortly before the 'Toota Pahar' shortly before Nainital, did they beat a retreat. My fave mutt, B, is such a curious soul, that having him walking ahead is always exciting, his body language - alarmed and anticipative - hinting to have sensed an interloper ahead that is still not seen by a regular human being.

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Friday, September 30, 2016

A sweet run-hike

I got out so early that not even the daylight had scattered well. Usually it's not so - I wait for a brighter morning, and when the bright is just right, I set out.

Today was done by a run. The run was done in a hangover after being pushed away by a (now-)former love. Least said, the run overpowered everything else. It was the longest I have done around these hills. All the way the hamlet of Birbhatti, which lies below the town of Nainital (on the same hill). The surroundings filled with sun while I got tired. A beautiful black-tailed puss welcomed me at the terminal point of my run. Thereafter, I climbed up, on the tiny village often eyed while navigating on Maps.

The climb, or the hike, was a stimulating experience. Making my debut on this stretch of road, I made my way up in observation. Hiking up, the valley prospered with village homes and school compounds to the left, while to the right it dropped into the gorge made by the stream originating from Naini lake. This piece of hill which I was on is generally seen by one on the hike from Gethia to Nainital, after cresting at Alukhet - a "there is now here" moment. The Alukhet hill forms a barrier of sorts, closing this valley from the very early morning sun; the sun needs to travel farther up (or look over another hill) before it starts direct-lighting these establishments.

This part of the Nainital hill has enjoyed some open patches of land, maybe due to geography or as a result of being a part of the original approach to the town of Nainital (there were days when the Ekka, or horse-driven carriages used to climb up the last stretch from Jeolikote to Nainital via here) which has been a summer escape for the British since 1850s. Now those large patches function as stadia or grounds for Saraswati Vihar and Govt. Intermediate College (hat tip to Wikimapia).

The climb up got a bit excrutiating at places. I was trying to leave my state of mind, and climb harder all the time. Sometimes I faltered and transitioned into inner monologues; like the time when Radiohead's Daydreaming started playing. The rising sun mixed with the clouds sometimes got me emotive, too, taking over the vocals from whatever was playing. I was playing the game of "life conjectures" for the way up - left me distressed. Occasionally I ran into interesting things or facts, which brought my inwards gaze out again - like the geospatial confirmation of my location; a shaggy black Bhotia dog that surprised me and to which I foolishly went close to say "hello nice doggy"; a dog with a black forehead mark shortly before reaching the terminus of the village road, and the strange character of the village road populated thinly by boys on motorbikes and old regulars.

My exit was next to the Inter College gates. The hike path flares into tiny lanes all of which generally seemed to bring one out onto the main road. Tiredness (of and from exploration) had established a new benchmark of sorts. The climb was over. Another 45 minutes of hike down to my home base of G followed. It made for around 12 kms to start the day.

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Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Treble Uttarakhand Cohibas

Sorting has led to uploading

Here's a coupla long single handled shots, now on YT.

Three different locations, all in Uttarakhand
- Gethia, Nainital
- Haldwani, Nainital
- Hardwar, Nainital

Cohibas - because some fancy icon could be sitting on a hill in the backdrop of Nanda Devi, playing them, smoking a nice Cuban cigar.

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Saturday, September 26, 2015

One handsome Giant Leaf-footed Stink-bug (Acanthocephala Declivis)

With a quick mail exchange with Ted (of Beetles in the Bush), my hour was to go into looking up ID of this phantasm that was spotted one lucky afternoon in 2008.

With an even lesser of a foundation in ID back then, my trail went in a wrong direction, into Phasmatodea (erring right at the level of Order).
Where I was supposed to go, was Hempitera. And thereon to Hemiptera > Heteroptera > Pentatomorpha > Coreoidea > Coreidae.

As sure as Ted was with his ID (replying inside minutes of my asking), I wasn't, even after landing on the Coreidae page on Wikipedia. As an amateur, much of my identification is visual than morphological. But reading up the bit on morphology was helpful

Morphology
The general morphological features of the Coreidae are an oval-shaped body, antennae composed of four segments, a numerously veined fore wing membrane, a metathoracic stink gland, and enlarged hind tibiae. Many species are covered with spines and tubercles

Considering Ted's comment on the horns, morphological adaptations came to mind, which could result in differently proportioned features. That consideration helped look for a more accurate match.

Which is an Acanthocephala, like one found here:

Giant Leaf-footed Stink-bug, Acanthocephala declivis

Photo courtesy Pete Williams, Gulf Breeze, Florida

December 12, 2006

Copyright (C) 2006 Pete Williams

This was the closest match, and reading on its ID solved the puzzle

Identification
Humeral angles of pronotum broadly expanded, extending laterally well beyond maximum lateral abdominal margin.

Next I went into an expanded/elongated pronotum frenzy. While Acantocephala has 27 subspecies, A. declivis seems a sure match, since its size and distribution both match.

A cursory search for related keywords on Google Images didn't throw a more beautiful specimen as this one. Makes me feel kinda swell, and lucky.

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Sunday, June 07, 2015

stillness

Yesterday's ghoom was a reflection of the state of affairs on my end. A dominating stillness, that didn't go away - that is what my past 3 days have been like. No work done, little on the exploratory front, little on the Ido or Kru front.

Moving beyong tiny low-scatter personal front: the jungles, the HHG. It was surprising to sense the holistic stillness of the jungle. Not a single bird, animal, or insect stirred, even the wind failed to produce "the wave" in the grass and trees. Me and baby bro clamored up and down slopes, and sensed nothing but the stationery. Then we rolled some Katrina and hiked onwards with the added swag. The high of our journey was reached when we joined the old canal cutting through HHG. Thereon, a traverse, then a traverse back, and a hike down, to join the road, to homebase.

The traverse along the channel took us amidst thick vegetation, and is the "easy" gateway to touch the main ravine. Alas, since it crashes into a chasm shortly thereafter, so it's only a gateway and not a complete walkthrough - one needs to climb up through dense growth to skirt through the broken section, which gets messy. We didn't feel like the latter, maybe because there was anything to scratch our imaginations tonight, hence made it the point of our return.

The only living thing we ran into were a couple of small things - the first one possibly a toxic caterpillar that clung onto my tee and left me with tiny hair that caused a rash on the dorsal side of my neck. It still stings a bit. The second, a spider, in full spread - by that I meant a large symmetric web, right in the middle of our trail. It took us a moment to figure out how to get past it. I was suggesting that we crawl through the channel, much like trench warfare. Then baby bro took a closer look and found that only a single low-lying silken strand connected to the right (the hillside was to our left); we carefully (and successfully) went around the web both the times. Note, that a given weight of spider silk is five times as strong as the same weight of steel. It was quite evident seeing how the single strand supported the magnificent web.

Well, nature, if not myself or my crashing relationship, to write loads about.

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Sunday, June 23, 2013

Night life in Nainital hills

A lot to see. A lot to do.
Me and bro were madly awake and active in the forests beyond midnight, looking for how life plays out. It is the smaller species that make for the bigger fodder.

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Friday, January 25, 2013

Only if you could be

...Where I am at this moment

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Friday, June 29, 2012

One Up on Farewells

Farewell, my valleys, soft and rolling,
And you, steep hills that I've known, exploring!
And you, ravines of Nainital, aye!
Farewell, my lovely azure sky,
Farewell, o Nature, gay and gentle!
Your quiet world I soon shall trade
For Delhi's noise, the vain parade...
Farewell, my freedom elemental!
What future am I heading for?
What secrets holds my fate in store?

All this emotion, just after a week's stay. Damn, this guy needs some sort of detachment therapy.

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Thursday, June 28, 2012

I saw a deer today

PS: No Portal involved here.

My foes, who see me as a corrupting influence on their daily routines, should be in light of the fact that this guy - in his isolated abandon - was out by 04:45, breathing in the scent of pine, and introducing to nature - alongside the morning raucous of merry avian voices - the shuffle of his feet across the soggy slopes and the hard tarmac. Only witness, perhaps, to his resolute run - yes, it wasn't a coincidental affair that he randomly started out on a run just coz he "felt like it" - were the transient truck drivers stationed along the road for the night.

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Life Update

I'm revisiting/reliving the past. Consecutive all-nighters. Coffee, code, pr0n, nature, music, disregard for the post-sunrise commitments, memes, cricket, football, paranthas, daily bath, my own room... back to the start of the crazy loop. I'm afraid I might even become productive in some time. But, tomorrow might change things, as I shift bases again, and reappear in the NCR, where the present buzz revolves around political muscle display, which reminds of the lost battle for progress, and also reminds of women (whom I have come to see as political entities that calculatedly sabotage honest intents).

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Monday, June 11, 2012

Nainital, presently

A couple of splashes at some distance draw my ear, and a glimpse of the jagged, wet silhouettes that made those draw me complete into the moment. My anxieties over standing here at this secluded, dark part of the lake called 'Phaansi Gadhera' (translates to 'Suicide Creek') at the base of Ayarpata Hill are pushed back, as a greater primal emotion takes its place - one that makes me fearlessly (and yet noiselessly) climb onto one of the boats tied to the shore and sit down in my peace. I don't care about either the boatmen demanding my evacuation, or if the passerbys see me as some teenager loading up on vodka ("Its Frooti, Sir, not Finlandia," I could shout back), or if the odd pair of youth loitering about - who predate me in veneration of secret spot - bother me. The night breeze rocks the boats gently, thin waves draw concave lines across the surface of the lake, and I find myself a part of a dance that I hadn't asked for. Another splash in some distance, another fish catching another insect.

Not long ago, I had been staring into the modern dystopian Nainital from my seat on the hill opposite. The whole scene lay much like a panoramic panel in front of me. Being this far, the lights are actually appealing; being this far from the noise and the human commotion, its a more comforting experience. A power cut is all it took to transform the modern lakefront of this lake town into something from the lost past - the entire hill suddenly falls into darkness. The chain of hotels, with their power backup, make for a garland of lights running along the base of the hill. In the upper reaches, only a few scattered streetlights, and moving lights of a handful of cars, assert the human presence. The way this place grew - like all mountain destinations do - was settlements starting at the base, then creeping higher into the upper reaches. What that powercut did was to restrict the human line to represent the place as it'd have been 20 years back, much lesser tourist-crazy. Don't we all wish - in our ignorance - that everything stayed same way as in the past?

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Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Closing celebrations for 2011 now online

Moar pictures! I bid farewell to 2011 in my own style. It seems its the festivals when I find myself the time to decorate my site, and update others on my life - "life", as long as I could call myself among the living.

Here's the gallery to Chakrata bike trip (bike != motorbike), which me, and my partners-in-crime C and V (the other V) did on Christmas eve.

Here's the gallery to the Haida Khan to Babiyar to Guniyalekh trek, on New Year's eve, which was a solo effort.
Walking in Jim Corbett's footsteps, truly, as this would be the same route he'd do to reach Kala-Agar (presently known as Kalagarh), where he shot 'The Chowgarh Tigers' - one (the cub) in 1929, and the other (the mother) a year later in 1930.

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Sunday, April 24, 2011

House Arrest

I plan my escape early in the morning. Its 0530, when things still blend into the consistent gray haze smeared across the landscape. Distant cawing of Himalayan crows pipes through the air, but nothing besides that; the branches still droop in complete silence. In haste I progress through my morning rituals – estimating the hour, loitering about the kitchen purposelessly, rubbing and scratching several body parts to confirm and stir my anatomy, obsess about my cold feet, decide against brushing teeth, a quick splash of water across the face, a quick bite, change of clothes. By the time I’m done, there’s a pale glow in the air, but there’s still hope that I might go unnoticed.

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Friday, April 22, 2011

Shimbeleth

The yellow Bulbul that'll never come back
the way it was this morning,
ballet-dancing among the gardens and kyaaris
sending the flowers and shrubs themselves in a joyous dance - but nothing that would catch the eye of Grandmaster Mithun.
Lush breeze adds to the happiness
and the entire flora dances in sync,
to same tune
of the ocean and mother Earth.

A cicada chirps on by,
his lament out there for a lover to pick;
in short quivering replies she replies back and now
the lonesome cicada slips into morning bliss.

The sparrow flits by
between the strikingly odd - like the few strands of hair on a bald man odd - branches,
and puff and swell in the chase and run game they play in the morning.
It is nice to see the sparrow return,
much like somebody's younger sister that I knew.
And so I also wish that the T-rex may return back b'coz tat would be fucken cool.

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FIrst sensations of being back

I find a cool spot under the shade of one of the few young pines dotting Montpellier, overlooking the entire chain of this sinusoidal mountainside, then the road snaking down to Gethia, the blue tin roof of my home at the edge of the hillside that further opens into valeys void of settlements and finally ending into a flourish of the Gaula plains at Kgm and Hld.
This is my first appropriation of Alookhet's geography, and also an exploration to what really was 'up there' - the narrow track climbing up along one of the bends shortly after Alookhet. What really is up here surprised me, as I carefully studied the Kumaoni gentleman garlanding and lighting incense sticks at what appeared a Mazaar - these are shrines typical to Islam. Next to this Mazaar was a small walled chamber decked with bells and strange earthenware, typical of Hindu temples. My inquiry met with an affirmation - that this really is a Mandir and a Mazaar together; the gentleman had no reservations declaring himself a 'Kumaoni Hindu', but that this observance dated so far back into their culture that they didn't see any religious divide in the dual worship... he put it to the days of his Ma, when he wasn't even born, to something around 80 years ("हम तो कुमाऊनी ब्राह्मण ठहरे, यहीं आलूखेत के, मगर ये तो हमारे माँ के टाइम से चला आ रहा है")

As I now sit watching a radiant nimbus tumor towards the South, likely over the hill of Hanuman Garhi, a brilliant orange - imagine lifejacket flourescent orange - drongo (?) flits across my panoramic horizon; I'm mesmerised at what should be put at extreme end of the brilliance scale. Sooting breeze continues to lap my face and arms. Its 1400, when v illages have retreated into their customary midday slumber. Only cows dot the hillside; now they too do a vanishing act. Even the highway lays barren of transport, same as the Gethia-Ntl road. The foxes on the adjacent hillock - not far from where I am - probably also sleep, they would step out by the evening and contrinute their high pitched harmony to the setting sun, which is when I expect to be on my return as well, and catch their glimpse.

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Monday, December 20, 2010

The need for a thousand ears

Words run down the slopes;
A freshwater stream,
split into a thousand.
The thirsty come closer,
or so I wish.
But their thirst is not my affliction,
neither do I tout a permanent riddance.

These words and my visage is transitory -
a stimulant nobody would forever pursue.
Because every thirst is born of a new need,
where every journey leads to a new brook,
and every brook offers a new relief.
These are no ordinary waters.

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Sunday, June 20, 2010

Where does wanderlust come from?

Father's Day is fast approaching, and by coincidence, I am preparing for a trip to Nainital, where I’ll be with my father, who always migrates to the happier altitudes for the summers. Here’s something that I feel is a sorts of inheritance from the man.

Why do we travel? Or maybe the better question is, where does wanderlust come from?

I was thinking about the origins of my own travel curiosity and remembered my father's stories of traversing great distances, either as a necessity or out of impulse.

For a background, my grandfather was from a remote village in Kumaon called Guniyalekh, that lies a little beyond another slightly-lesser-remote village of Padampuri, in the district of Nainital. Family tragedies and the cause of employment had him settle down in Lucknow almost 80 years back. He kept his fascination for his roots alive by building a cottage in the quaint village of Gethia, not far from Nainital. Come the summers, Gethia would serve an ideal base-camp for visits to our ancestral lands that lay deeper in Guniyalekh. My father recalls the entire family travelling the distance in equal portions by bus, on mules, and on foot. Those were the days of denuded dirt tracks through forests and dangerous stream crossings, and I’m still surprised to hear of my grandma and my aunts’ courage and struggles to travel these distances. Being abused and seduced by the nature, all at once.

My father took a difficult resolution upon my grandfather’s death, that he would legally obtain rights to the lands – or whatever was left unoccupied of those – in Guniyalekh; the longing that lay in all hearts now turning into a hope, a hope that turned into expectations from my father. Having graduated in law, and choosing teaching for a profession, a man who spent much of his time extolling and preaching the ideals of ‘kanoon’, now set forth for the corruption-laden legalities of the real India. More than the legal procedure, it was the travelling involved that could make a person submit to defeat. After several trips between Lucknow and Nainital, endless juggling between Gethia, Nanital, and Guniyalekh, fighting the bureaucracy in Nainital, and death threats by selfish villagers who had their own plans of illegal acquisition in mind, he managed to get a piece of eternal satisfaction that everybody wanted... If the geographical pinball of a great acquisition wasn’t sweet enough, there are his tales of spending snow wintry nights in shacks out of necessity, going on a snow leopard hunt with the villagers, among the others.

The sights, smells and sounds that I lust for must be nothing but a nostalgic fact to my old folks, I am just trailing on their footsteps, clutching for a version of my own.

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