Winter Rains

The sky smoke grey
The leaves sad and stale
The air putrid with a tinge of smog
The thin veneer of dust everywhere

And then it happens...
The light drizzle
The night drizzle
The much awaited rain

And the world changes...
The morning so fresh
The roads so wet
The trees so bright
The Earth smiles yet again!

Cycling Sensibilities - 2

This was in August last year, so just a re-cap of something which fascinates me
I finally heard the cry.
The cry of a peacock early in the morning. Last year when I had started cycling there used to be this peacock who used to sit on the roof of one particular house and cry out in the mornings every day. It used to elate me a lot. This year I had been hunting for peacocks without any luck.
The other day I could hear a couple of them near Malhour railway station but couldn't see them as there was a thick overgrowth all around.
Today while cycling I could hear the cry and went back in search of it. It was sitting on the edge of the roof of one of the houses with its long tail hanging down like Rapunzel's tresses and in its full splendor.
I do have a thing for peacocks. 

They have been a part of some of my memorable moments of the past. The pet peacock of my cousin in the mountains, he was a forest officer so could wiggle around rules. The peacock would go out during day and come back home at night. The endless mating dance off between two peacocks at 

Dudhwa wildlife reserve. It just kept on going on and the peacocks kept on dancing with their plume in full display in circles. The muster of peacocks roaming the lawns of the royal resort at Jodhpur.
Surprisingly I have a thing for both snakes and peacocks. And they are mortal enemies!
In a fight between a peacock and snake I think I will side with the bird cause no matter how much I deny it, the Hindu in me would kick in and make me side with a peacock.
Later on in the ride I saw a falcon too, and it was the largest falcon I've ever seen. Could have easily fetched over a lakh in the middle East. It was a beauty, that one.
Nothing perks you up more, than a single dose of peacock cry before breakfast.
It's almost therapeutic!

Cycling Sensibilities - 1

This was an incident which happened in July last year, but it left an impact on me (plus was a learning experience of sorts) and hence is worth repeating here.
Today in the morning while on my cycle run, I came across a lovely sight. I had just gone ahead of Malhour station on a cemented village road running parallel to the train tracks, the sky was overcast with a fine misty rain falling. From a distance I could see two girls on their way to the school on a small bicycle, and along side was a big dog keeping pace with them. It was a white dog with light brown patches, almost as tall as Alex and just trotting along with the girls. My heart swelled with emotions and it reminded me of Hachi as well Aslan, the lion in Narnia. A dog protecting his "family" and escorting them all the way to school. So I passed them and proceeded ahead. After a short distance the road came to an abrupt end and there was a muddy, wet dirt path ahead. I turned back to go to Malhour station. The trio of girls and the dog were still on the way at a distance ahead of me. A pair of street dogs came to fight with our hero but he continued to trot with the girls and after he gave them a growl they changed their minds. But he did stop for a moment for the mandatory butt sniff inspection by the pair of dogs.
By this time I had caught up with the girls. They were in white shirt, maroon skirt and the signature two oiled pony tails tied with red ribbons. The elder one would have been 10-11 years old and the pillion a couple of years younger. So I smiled and asked the girls while riding alongside them "kya woh tumhara kutta hai?" and the elder one whispers "Nahi". And at this moment the younger one turns around to check on our dog and says in panic "Didi, jaldi chalao, woh aaraha hai!"
I realised that if I hadn't spoken to these girls I would have gone back with that image out of an Enid Blyton's novel of a pair of young girls riding on a bicycle with their faithful dog, and here they were so scared of him. He was a good dog though and meant them no harm.
After I pedaled away from them another thought that came to my mind was that such a scenario in any other place could also have resulted in my being lynched by a mob of unknown faces. Here was I in an alien garb of helmet, specs and shorts, riding a cycle in the middle of nowhere, accosting two young girls, first crossing them and then coming back and talking to them. We do live in dangerous times.
I had a realisation that we hear these news of people being killed or being grievously injured as suspected child lifters, but we never hear of the people who were thrashed and let go by the same mob on different occasions. It's only when someone finally dies that it becomes news. No one knows how many poor unsuspecting victims would have been physically and mentally brutalised, how many maimed or left with deep scars. That part never comes in the statistics.

Shaheed Express

I am in some kind of dream bonanza nowadays.
Yesterday it was Everest, today it was a train journey up North.
I am traveling by Shaheed express to somewhere in Punjab. Quite a lot of college staff is there along and maybe it is some kind of conference. I see the Principal of the college on an upper berth and Oral Medicine head in the same booth. We all are traveling by normal 3 tier coach with open windows and grill. I wake up in the morning and the view outside the window is amazing with a red horizon, the sun about to rise, lush green fields and sparkling water bodies zipping past.
I get off at Amritsar and go for a stroll along the platform as it being a major station I expect the train to stay for awhile. I step out of the station and go up to a point from where I get a good view of the rural countryside. I slowly walk back to the train. The train has left!
I look around for it frantically and then I see the station board and realise its Amritsar Cantonment railway station and not the main one. I am not carrying any money and am still in my night suite and wearing slippers.
Looking at my  panic and puzzlement a few bystanders ask me what's wrong. They guide me to a guy on a 100cc bike who they say will help me catch the train at the next station. I get on the bike and we go train chasing. The guy is dusky, lean and tall, with long unruly hair, wearing dark shades and a brown jacket and jeans. He doesn't speak a word to me. While I am riding pillion with him I wonder who he is, why I got on the bike without even speaking to him or taking his introduction and what if he kidnaps me.
We reach near the station and he gets a call on his cell. He stops the bike to answer the call in chaste Punjabi and as he is talking on the cell I proceed towards the platform without thanking or even talking to him.
This is Calcutta now, and its a huge station with lots of people and tongas everywhere. The way to the platform is confusing as there are two paths. One going up a slope and one going straight into the station. I go straight for a while before I see trains standing on the upper level. There is no way to climb up due to the space being occupied by tongas parked on the side.
I somehow manage to go back and hurry up to the upper level. As I enter platform 1 I see the last carriage of my train move away.
So I missed two trains on a single night!
After this the dream becomes hazy and I get the impression that I stay back in Calcutta and start a new life. But I am not sure whether that is something I think about doing or actually end up doing. 
Few take home messages from this dream were my desire to go home, to travel and my innate belief in the goodness of common folk up north.

Everest!

Last night I climbed up to Everest!
It was literally at night when I finally managed to scale it. But I am getting ahead of myself.
The dream starts midway while the four of us (Radhika, 2 middle aged, white, blonde women and myself) are midway through the trek.
Though its supposed to be Nepal the scenery is pretty much like Kashmir. I guess my sub-concious being not very familiar with the topography around Everest went into default mode and switched it with the one it was familiar with.
We stay a night at Sonamarg and there is an instance when the sun rays of the setting sun can be seen all golden through the snow laden branches of coniferous trees. I am trying to click its photo through my cell but am not getting a good angle. So the golden meadows thing kind of comes true.
One of the American girls (the shorter and plumper one) gets all dizzy and sick so we plan to take a detour through Pahalgam and plan to get her checked there.
Due to the inadvertent delay at Pahalgam hospital, where she is admitted for hypoxia, we get delayed for our trek up to the Everest. We move on up through the night at a slow pace, trudging up the slope with our heavy backpacks, shoes with spikes and a skiing stick in hand.
Thanks to the commercialisation the trek almost to the top has been made into a kind of a pathway by Nepal govt so its not such a big deal. The pathway is paved and there is a rope to hold on to on the side throughout the way.
We finally reach close to the summit at around 2am! Its dark all around. The last few meters to the top of the peak are steep, rocky and can only take up one person at a time. I climb up on all fours, panting my way to the top.
I reach the top of the world!
There is darkness below but up above maybe due to the height there is a kind of a glow all around the horizon. I imagine that its because dawn would come here first. The other mountain peaks can be seen below. I just get a few moments to savor the sites. There is another guy who I know from somewhere trying to climb up. He is in a yellow jacket. I pull him up and as he stands upright on the top, I start my descent. In the rush to help him up I forget to click a pic.
Finally on the way back we pass through valleys where we can the places where avalanches would have come by the absence of trees. I wonder aloud that how come there were trees near Everest when they say that the treeline can't go above a certain height. The conifer trees near Everest were young, with stunted growth and hardly a few feet in height. They resembled more of a bush, than a tree.
We pass through a place where there is this huge snow bank on our right extending for miles. Its literally sparkling under a deep blue sky in the bright sunlight. The branches of coniferous trees in the forest that we pass through have been chopped off at lower heights which make me think that the Nepali villagers in the neighborhood would be still using fire wood for their cooking needs. Unlike in India where most of them have shifted to cooking gas even in the mountains
We realise that the American (the taller, slimmer, fitter one)  and I are both in bright orange overalls from head to toe and laugh about it. I also crack a joke about how Orange looks good on me!
We finally reach a place where cell signals are present and I call up home to tell them that I am safe and we are on our way back. The American we had left behind at Pahalgam has recovered fully and we pick her up on our way back.

Doing the 69th

Finally got to unfurl the tricolour on the 69th year of the Republic. Better late then never.
Small blessings of being the WM at the Lodge, I guess. And not a huge flag to begin with, but I did enjoy the moment.
Sung the national anthem after quite a while and it did feel a bit strange. Finally my abstinence from the anthem came to an end. An abstinence born out of the ridiculous imposition on the public and using it like a litmus test for nationalism.
One more thing off my bucket list...

About last night

Last night I went to Calcutta. In my dream. There is something about that place which fascinates me a lot.
I was walking alone through the streets of the old city in the afternoon. There were old huge trees providing shade to the sidewalk and old buildings painted in light cream and white colours on either side.
I was enjoying my leisurely stroll but then it started to drizzle. As I had no umbrella at hand I thought of catching a bus.
Along came an old city bus and got on through the back gate. It had just a few passengers and I sat down on the last bench next to the rear window. The bus had its musty smell of moisture and oil and went along slowly with its creaks and groans, while it rained slowly outside.