The lone journey

  

Travelling to a holiday or vacation alone as far as the Indian mind-set is concerned is a big No-No, almost to the extent its frowned down upon. A friend rightly said travelling alone is so under-rated. I was quite unsure myself at first about planning on a trip on my own, but the very grain in my body refused to spend a 3 day weekend at home doing absolutely nothing. So I started floating the idea around friends regarding destinations for a short vacation and from the responses I got I decided to go for this. Musandam-Dibba-(Oman) The price was quite reasonable, considering all the things on the offer but had a hard time trying to get a seat because it was the weekend and everyone was trying desperately to get on it. Still managed to get on one with last minute frantic pushing.

So, Mr. Badshaah Khan on D-day wakes me up at 7 AM, telling me to get to the pick up point in fifteen minutes or so. I almost banged the phone on him thinking he has got the wrong number but then it suddenly stuck me and the world felt like it was gonna come crashing down on me. As usual I had forgotten to set an alarm. I was probably thinking I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep in excitement of the impending travel (Yeah that’s me :|). I told him not to worry and I'll be there on time although he didn’t sound too convinced. 

I have a special routine redesigned for such emergencies, where we stick to bare minimums to get ready on time, if you know what I mean. And I convinced myself saying "Anyways I have to go swimming later in the day", so having a bath wasn't really that necessary and neither am I fan of having early morning bath on a holiday. Plus I am a responsible earthling, I am against unnecessary water wastage, so with a generous dab of deodorant I managed to get out of the house just in time since I had got my bag packed the previous night. 

A glorious morning waited as I stepped outside the flat, the birds singing tunes of autumn and dew glistening on the parked cards. I was quite happy with how the day was turning out so far. I was almost Halfway near the pick up point and like right on cue as if the universe had a way of leveling things with me, I remembered that I forgot my SLR. I felt like banging my head on the nearest wall. I had to run back almost a quarter mile and finally the lactic acid build up kicked in and had to walk the rest of the way.It was a quick grab and deploy mission and I decided that I was not going to run my way back. Let the driver wait if he has to. In the end I was still early, that's the greatest tragedy of my life lately, I can never be late, even after trying hard. 

Mr. Badshaah Khan was on time and after picking up the other fellow passengers which involved a lot of circling around unknown neighborhood’s for what felt like an eternity because some blonde chick refused to be picked up from anywhere else but in front of her doorstep, we were finally on our way. The road ahead was straight like an arrow with the weather still kinda dull and hazy with the sun shining on with pleasant warmness and sand engulfing us from all sides. I was left to my devices with nothing better to do and with a Autestic kid sitting behind me making weird noises and pulling my hair from time to time, I started experimenting with the SLR and the 300 lens and then there was this unusually beautiful section of the road which literally looks like the hump's of a camel's back. 

And soon enough we crossed the Sharjah border into Oman without any major security screening process, I guess the border security were least bothered even if we had been carrying a huge crater of RDX we would have been just let go into the Sultanate of Oman, with just the odd wave of the hand. I could feel the humidity increasing as we were getting close to the land's end and the horizon up ahead disappearing into bottle green vastness...

(To be continued...)

The Honorable man

And the trip began with me panicking with the thought if I would even reach the airport on time.  The Pathan driver although being extremely nice added to the anxiety by carefully taking the longer route to the airport in the name of the road's being less congested, with me meekly nodding in agreement. There is not much you can really do when you are a stranger in a city hardly knowing its arterial roads.

(Pardon me for the usage of Hindi/Urdu but I fail to mimic the intensity of the Pathan driver in plain english)

Pathan Driver Ji:  "Tumhara mata pitaji bohot khush hota tumhe dekhkar! Tumhara jahazz (Plane) miss ho gaya toh hum apna khuda ko kya jawab dega. Beta itne tame(time) ke baad ghar aa raha hai. Ruko abhi divider ke upar gaadi chadata hai hum. Koi mushkil nahi agar pulice humara license cancel karega, par hum tumko airport exdum durust pahuchayga. Tum bilkul fikar na karo"

Me in a bleak voice: "Arre nahi nahi, divider pe mat chadhaiye, thoda time abhi baaki hai" (My nervousness before a journey always gets the better of me and somehow always end up reaching my destination a good percentage ahead in time, An attribute which directly descends from my dad and my grandfather. At-least that confirms my genome, because since I was small I kept doubting if I am adopted, thats a whole different story for another time.)

Pathan Driver Ji: "Tum bilkul daro mat, allah chahega to aage ke road ke baad biklul traffic nahi hoga. Hum dua karega"

Me: "Thank you bhai jaan" 

Pathan Driver Ji: "Diwali ka time hai na, hume pata hai, bohot jabardast manata hai India mai, hum puri koshish karega tumhe time pe pahuchane ke liye baaki sab allah pe chodd do"

Me: "Haan last year bhi mai gaya nahi tha, isliye jana hai abhi"

Pathan Driver Ji: "Tumhara shaadi ho gaya" ?

Me sheepishly: "Nahi Bhai Jaan"

Pathan Driver Ji in the disgusted look: "Hume bohot ghussa aya ye sunn kar, tum jawaan ho, shaadi karo, apne biwi ko yaha lao, ghumao, yahi time hota hai apna ghar basane ka"

Me hides the phone afraid he might take my mom's number and call her: "Hmmmm" 

Before he could say anything more I called up Vikram and vented because it was his idea to take the cab instead of the metro. (Typical human tendency to pass the buck in out of hand situations like this.)

After that attempt to pimp me coupled with the nervousness of getting the airport on time, I kinda tuned him out and just kept nodding and tried to be as courteous without being rude although me ignoring him had little effect on him because he kept on making more small talk which went on from cursing the traffic to advising me to not fall asleep during the flight.

In a way I felt he was overreacting more than me but hey, who tries to get over the kerb and almost risk his drivers license and livelihood for a passenger. The old man almost drove like a man possessed with me clutching the seat-belt for dear life, honking the shit out of that vehicle and scaring quite a bit of people on the road, and managing to make quite a entry to the airport. I thanked him for risking his neck out for me and tipped him a little extra although he refused profusely because according to him it was Haraam (Forbidden).

Overall ended up doing the 'Check-In' just in time, thanked my lucky stars for keeping a watch out on me. When the beginning itself is so auspicious what in the world can go wrong from here. 

P.S: Dedicated especially to people who still think there are no good men out in this dangerous world. 

Requiem

 
I shed a silent Tear,
of nothingness that would last
for sometime to come
to be engulfed within.

This feeling of madness,
takes hold
not of the body but of the soul.

Waiting for the tide to pass over,
this is not what I had planned.
All I wanna do is trade this life
For something new.

This was not meant to last,
But I wish it wasn't so.
All I ask now is,
for the strength to go on.

The Death Ride - Part II

So Amit took off screaming with his instructor behind, much too his chagrin. He wanted to go solo but Solo flights were not allowed. And after what it felt like an eternity to see him fly, it was my turn. I was next. If you have ever been parasailing, you will know that there are procedures that you need to follow. But for me they just decide to fuck up. I should have sensed right then and there that something is not right but I was not the one who is going to chicken out just because it does not get up to my standards. 

I went through the motions. I get myself saddled up and as I was walking towards the edge of the mountain for the takeoff, I could feel a slight change in pressure, which normally indicates that a strong breeze was about to come up, but somehow I didn’t pay much attention. My instructor hooked me up to the sail first and then just as he was about to hook himself up to the sail - behind me, the breeze hit us. It hit us with such a force that it took us totally by surprise and it threw my instructor off balance towards the ledge.

Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion, 3 seconds per frame, the storm kicking up the dust, the instructor wavering towards the cliff with me leaning in his general direction, and the guy who kept the sail down - running towards us incredibly slowly. I tried reaching out for him, but I could only manage to brush his fingers and do nothing but watch him fall in the abyss below. His eyes were wide open. I could see him screaming for help but my ears just dint register anything. I tried to imagine how he must have felt in that moment. I wish I had made an effort to know him better.

This was not over yet, with the guy holding the Para sail down - now gone and running towards us, the next chain of events were unleashed, leaving us no time to recover. My friends realized this and they ran for my help. 

I was still lying on the ground facing the abyss and when I turned around; I saw the most magnificent sight I saw in my whole life. The parasail was in full bloom. It had left me in a complete trance. I felt like I was frozen in my tracks, the world started going dark around me, I noticed that I was palpitating. That’s when I realized that I cannot just lie down there.


(To be continued..)

The Death Ride - Part I

I was returning home from a really long stint in the Middle East - The prodigal son. It wasn't easy coming back to face the questions that were left answered especially from what had conspired. I had left a lot of people unhappy with my decisions that I took last time around. But the best thing about home is that they will accept you for what you are no matter what you do. But this story isn’t about what "was and then". This story is about how I die.

The holidays are something that you always look forward to having a nice time and especially when you have been away from home for a long time. You look forward to enjoy spending time with your family and friends. There was a lot of catching up to do since this was the longest I have ever been away from home. And I owe it to my friends that I spend some time with them this time around. And the way we decided to do it is, go on the longest biking trip ever. That’s how we connect. That’s how it is supposed to be. But like everything, when you are not expecting it, a series of unfortunate incidents happen which change the course of everything you ever planned for.

So bags packed - four bikes, four riders, and four days of pure adrenaline rush. Devraj, Amit, Rylan and me. If there was ever an adventure we have probably done it all together. These are the guys who have made me get through my sorry growing up years. Hell, I still remember when we used to race our bicycles from the incline slope down up to the unconstructed road ahead when we were small. It was the smoothest transition to bikes when we all started earning. We were "The passionate bikers". We even had our own symbol engraved on our Motorbikes.

For our road trip we had decided on a series of stopovers. The first was supposed to be at Mahabaleshwar on the famous "Table-Top" plains. We chose this location because it offers mind-boggling, monkey shitting, amazing Parasailing options. We zoomed ahead up to the location and first to go up in the air was Amit. He has done this before and we thought we’d just watch and learn, since I am not the kind of dude who is a big fan of heights. When I see a dead drop, my heart feels like it’s going to pop out of my chest, it just goes all hay wire.

So Amit took off screaming with his instructor behind... 


(To be continued..)

Brush with the law

"...Waiting in the interrogation room, the only thought that was goin through my mind was would I ever be able to get outta here.."

Flashback..

It was my day off and ritual demanded the afternoon was spent lazing around watching movies. The phone buzzed and a colleague suggested we go to the beach which is like 500 meters from our apartment. Never to back out, I get myself prepped up in less than half an hour and I took my 70-300mm lens for those long range shots.

The sun was almost beating down on us and the time was around 4 30 when we reached the beach. There were a couple of families on the beach, the usual Arabic women getting into the water with the entire burkha and the head scarf on and the men half naked and children completely naked and unabashed. I so pity them fools. On one side of the beach there were people fishing and barbecuing.

We picked a spot in the middle of the beach and I loaded up my SLR with the 300 mm Zoom lens. And we started happily clicking the sea gulls and people at the beach and what we thought of as a harbor extending out in the sea. I was showing off the little camera tricks that I have learned till now. From the left I could see two Arab guys walking straight towards us, I dint pay much attention because it dint strike me that I was doing something out of the unordinary.

As the two fat Arab guys kept walking in our direction, it was clear that they were coming towards us and in case there was a confrontation thankfully I was not alone. Maximum they could do to us was mug us, but I would not give up my precious. Over my dead body.

Fat guy 1: "What you guys are doing?"

Me: "Nothing, just taking pictures at the beach, Why?"

Fat guy 2: "Show your civil ID. I am a security guard. Dint you know this is a restricted area and photography is not allowed"?

Me: "Nope, this is the first time we have come to this beach"

Fat guy 1: "We will have to call the police"?

Me: "Ok. But its not necessary"

By this time my blood is boiling with anger. I want to knock this guy down and run away from the spot. I tell myself not to do anything stupid and give them a reason to actually have a case against me. I was not panicking because I know I hadnt done anything wrong.

After standing there with the guy for 10 uncomfortable minutes, I see a cop car riding upto the beach. And then another. And then another. Total of 3 cop cars. They called the entire battalion for us. Fack! I was never so scared in my life before. The two cops came over and they frisked us first. The Arab fat guys and the cops spoke something for like the longest time I could fathom meanwhile inspecting our camera. Two more cops came up, this one more threatening than the others.

He just walks up to me and Wham! Punches me straight in the chest. It took me a moment for the pain to sink in.

(To be continued..)

Arabian Nights - V

She moved like an enigma on the floor, almost enchanting everyone present over there. She danced on three beautiful songs in a row without breaking the rhythm and then the lights came on and she called upon the ladies to come on stage. She taught them a move or two, the best one was, where she taught them how to swivel the boobs on rhythm in anticlockwise direction. All that jiggling just made up for all the day's stress and I was fresh as sugar cane juice just out of the machine (with ginger and lemon that is).

We were all so awe struck in her wake that we never realized how the time flew by and I only later realized that, there was only a Belly - Dancer, not Belly Dancers, my expectations were for a troop of hot belly dancers. That’s life I guess, you cannot get everything you wish for.

The sand felt like ice to our feet, the breeze had slowly worked up into an unmistaken intonation, the stars filled up the sky and shone brilliantly in the night sky, far far away from the nearest civilization. Sadly all these were indicators to remind us that we don’t belong here, it was time to go home. We packed our bags, took our belongings and it was time for us to head back the way we came.

The journey way back was pretty uninteresting except that I got to sit in the front seat this time and the Arab drove in the desert like the devil possessed from the camp site to the main highway. That was the only time I said a little prayer and remembered all my loved ones. After that it was just an uneventful journey on one straight road back home.

I was completely tired out of my wits as I reached home; I guess old age is slowly catching up. First thing I did was put all my clothes in the washing machine as there was sand everywhere and I so hate that. What happened next was a tragedy of epic proportions which I am trying very hard not to think about it and forget.

So that’s all folks, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much I enjoyed really being out there and writing about it.

Here is a link to all the pics.
picasaweb.google.com/narsimha.khedkar/ArabianNights#

Arabian Nights - IV

To avoid anymore embarrassment we moved on to the centre of the camp where they had neatly laid out carpets, there was this low height dinner tables with a stylish old lantern and cushion laid all around and so we decided to wear of our high by resting for some time. The camp site was so romantic, with the sun setting and a gentle cool breeze blowing across and revelry all around. (I so wished Vikram was a girl, but thank God I was not that high to think otherwise). The DJ started playing some nice Arabic numbers and the kids started dancing around. There was this little girl maybe 6 years or more, she was dancing so well with lip synch et all, a born natural performer. I couldn’t help but wonder at times how children are so incredibly innocent and this world just goes and takes all that away. Why can’t we always be kids? Why do we have to grow up? Well I am a kid at heart no matter what you say!

Anyways, we had no idea how the time flew by and it was already 7:30 when there was announcement for Dinner. It was a mighty buffet and since we both had a light lunch we both had planned on a hearty dinner. There were separate queues for men and women, vegetarian and Non-vegetarian (I am guessing it was because of the steady number of Indian tourists), as soon as the announcement was made, all the Indians rushed to the buffet like a pack of hungry wolves. Bloody Indians! I tell you, Indians and food go like Hand in Glove. We waited a while and then we jumped in too, the Buffet was enormous (I wish I had taken pictures of the Buffet table without looking scandalous), it had like 4 different types of Arabic salad, hummus (Arabic Chickpea Dip), Garlic Mayo sauce, Biryani rice, Plain rice, Egyptian Macaroni, Noodles, some kind of vegetarian curry, Dal and Raita. I skipped most of the veggie section because I was craving to try out from the barbeque assortment.

After this I headed alone to the barbequed grilled section since Vikram is a vegetarian (Waste of ticket money!), I had no idea what they served me, but it all looked delightfully appetizing. Some 4 types of Barbequed sticks and chicken curry (The little goats that I saw earlier which were tied in a corner came to mind!). If you thought this was it, you were wrong, dessert included all kinds of fruits (which I don’t eat in raw format) and what I think was Custard and of course Lime juice. It was a sight to juggle two plates; a can and my SLR back to the dinner table. You get to observe such opposite ends of the spectrum in a diversified gathering like this, for e.g.: the difference in the way, Indians fill up their plates like its the end of the world and there's no tomorrow (Paisa Vasool hone tak) and how the westerners neatly arranged theirs.

So we finished our dinner and were just relaxing and the lights suddenly dimmed down and the volume shot up with some catchy Arabic Folklore tune. And we all knew what that meant, I quickly prep up my SLR and just then she arrived like an enigma (Got some astounding shots to drool over later). She was dressed in a typical belly dancer fashion, plenty of makeup and mascara but definitely a sight to admire and to behold. Her body was agile and flexible like a Boa Constrictor, the way she danced and the moves she performed were mythical. We were all left enchanted in her wake. Even the women were enjoying and had their jaws dropped to the floor. I am sure they secretly wished to be like her.

(To be continued....)

Arabian Nights - III

We moved on after those experimentations, and Hallelujah, the camp became suddenly colorful. Enter a group of giggly hot girls, all immaculately dressed. I couldn’t make out the nationality but my guess is they were French. They came straight to us, I mean to the green room, to get dressed in an Abaya, and goodness gracious me, they looked transformed and so pretty! The one thing I always find very pretty is when Firangs wear Indian Kurtis or Full length Ghagra (Skirt). Anyways this bird watching went on for the rest of the evening.

I noticed at far end of the camp there were people doing sand surfing and that definitely aroused the kid in me. The last I wore roller skates was like when I was 14, I guess, so I decided to try it on. The first time I came down I lost my balance mid way and fell head down. But the second time I was perfect, rode the sand wave till the end. Vikram took some great photos and I even made a stop motion movie. :D.

After 3 tries I was totally exhausted, couldn’t carry the surf board till the top again so we roamed around more and found a neat shack especially for Sheesha (or Hookah in India). The shack was so strategically placed; you just sit back and watch the beautiful yellow ball of fire disappear in a sea of sand. I had tried Sheesha once when I was in India and once when I was in Kuwait (believe me you go hoarse the next day after a Hookah night) and Vikram had never tried Sheesha and neither of us smoke cigarettes, so it was pretty amateurish the way we went on about it. Vikram took the first drag and started coughing just like they show in the movies when a 15 year old smokes for the first time! And I took a gentle puff and no smoke came out! Sitting besides us were these two Arabs who were smoking like a Steam engine and I am sure they were looking at us and chuckling. After various permutations and combinations we figured it out, you need to call all your lung powers and take the deepest drag possible, hold it in a moment and then there is smoke! :D

The quality of Sheesha was nothing like I’ve had before. My throat dint hurt and there was sweet tingling sensation at the tip of my tongue. After Vikram took a long puff he said, it hit him and he is feeling buzzed. I was like 'common, this stuff can't make you high or anything' and I was making fun of him. Before I know it, after 2 or 3 deep drags, even I started feeling lighter. It was a heavenly feeling, almost felt like paradise. We both decided that we should stop and not risk getting stoned. So we started walking back and even then neither of us could walk straight, It’s hilarious to get your body to move in synch when your high.

To avoid anymore embarrassment we moved on to the centre of the camp where they had neatly laid out carpets, there was this low height dinner tables with a stylish old lantern and cushion laid all around. So we decided to wear of our high by resting for sometime......

P.S (To be continued... )

Arabian Nights - II

This was the first time I stepped outside the Emirate of Dubai as we took the Dubai bypass road towards Hatta & Oman and it was an 8 lane damn straight as an arrow highway. We could literally see the road curving up and down till the end of the horizon and serene golden sand on both sides of the road, like they show in the movies; it was a beautiful sight to behold. The other thing I always used to wonder about Dubai is the lack of animals as opposed to India, where the center of the highway is the home for our beloved cows and buffaloes. So I was quite surprised to see a caravan of camels roaming freely in the desert on their own.

The driver, who was a quiet Arab, finally announced that we have reached the dune bashing spot at around 4:30. I quickly wrapped up my SLR in the bag because a birdie told me things can go flying all round and I dint want to risk an untoward incident happening to my beloved, suddenly then without an warning I find myself find myself facing the sky, I was like WHOA! It was just amazing the way the car went sideways and it conquered one dune after another with such relative ease. I can’t even imagine a sedan lasting 100 meters on this terrain without sinking in. (My respect for the land cruiser and 4x4 just went way right up there) The Arab was so damn skilled at this, and all the cars went in such perfect symmetry, it was a sight to behold when one of the dunes the sand fell on our cruiser like the wave hits the shore.

Just when I thought this couldn’t get better, the oldie in the front seat started huffing and puffing, he was shit scared out of his wits. He was asking the driver to slow down and the Wifey at back kept asking every 30 seconds, are you having chest pain or a heart attack?! Damn it people, why do you come to such places if you have no stomach for the adventure. The driver just took it easy and skipped many dunes for the sake of that fat ass. I was so annoyed; I was almost tempted to ask my money back! We went over one dune after another for the next 20 minutes or so and then we stopped for a break on one fine dune top to take photos. I couldn’t help but wonder, how the hell they know which direction to go, because as far as my eyes could see, I could only see desert with no perspective of whatsoever direction. After a very short break we resumed dune bashing back to the way we started and then to the camp site.

The camp site was like an Oasis in the middle of the desert, it was more of a sort of a ranch. They greeted us with some traditional Arabic coffee (which I spitted out at the first sip, because it tasted more like they boiled sand in water) and some dates and some kinda Arabic "Mendu Wada" (Bombay lingo). It was a pretty huge camp site, so we went exploring, one side had the Camel Ride which I had no interest torturing the poor animal what so ever. Then there were the Quad bikes, which you could ride into open sunset, I was more afraid of coming back to the site if I went so I skipped that too and there there was some exorbitantly priced memorabilia, apart from this there was a green room where you could dress up in traditional Arabic attire (Yup you got it right, you get to see Simba dressed up as an Arab, only condition if you laugh you gonna be shot at!). So I learned 'Abaya' is the black overcoat for women, 'Kandura' or ‘Dishdasha’ is the men's attire and the head scarf is called 'Shaila'

We moved on after those experimentations, and Hallelujah, the camp became suddenly colorful. Enter a group of giggly hot girls, all immaculately dressed....

P.S (To be continued...)

Arabian Nights - I

I know the title sounds totally cliché, but can’t help it... So here we go

The story begins long ago on a Sunday morning when I was having my breakfast. I collected the receipt from the cashier and searched for a place to sit and have my breakfast in solitude and peace, so I sit down and for lack of anything better to read start going through the offers listed on the back of the receipt and one of the adverts instantly caught my attention, the ad was of HORMUZ travels which boasted of neatly lined camels with sand in the background which went as far as your eyes could reach, a mean 4x4 attacking the dunes and of course a Belly dancer.

The last image was enough for me to go into overdrive, and as it is after buying the SLR, Vikram & I were making plans of going on some kinda outing. So I gobbled down my French toast and called Vikram to ask if we should go and he agreed. I immediately called up the agent and booked two tickets and eagerly wait for the Friday. The anticipation was such that I was afraid I was going to get wet dreams!

So fast forward to present day Friday!

We put on loads of sun screen and had a light lunch taking heed from well wishers and head to the metro to catch a train till the pickup point which was Deira City Centre. We were half n hour early so I was trying my hand at some Voyeur photography. (I took clicked photos throughout the day at every possible instance of every possible thing in sight; the count had reached 900 till evening!). The agent calls at sharp 3:30 and the Land cruiser was already half filled (I thought to myself there goes my front seat experience). There was a Bori family at the back who yapped about how their sons were so dependent on them before and how they have changed after marriage. It was truly a nightmare come true so we both decided to put on our headphones!

There was this super duper tiny munchkin next to me, she was so devilishly cute, I couldn’t resist playing with her. But as soon as I removed my camera she went all pink and became camera shy! But still have some amazingly cute stealth photos. En route, I was doing knowledge transfer to Vikram of whatever little camera skills I have picked up by reading and experimenting so that I don’t end up having no pictures of the trip :P.

P.S (To be continued...)

P.P.S(Promise I will not leave it midway)

P.P.P.S (Thanks to @poojster for editing my posts and being a #GG)

Technicolour Dreams - II

It was pitch black by the time we reached our camp site, as soon as we stepped out of the comfort of our car, there were flies and mosquitoes buzzing all over us. The sound of crickets, the hooting of the owls and with the shadow of the night falling on us, we felt being watched all the way. Just then we heard the rattling of a rattle snake, that was the last straw, we dropped our bags right there and ran towards the camp. Our driver, John just burst out laughing, he was like, 'After kangaroos, rattle snakes are the most common thing on this continent, so better get used to it!!' Aanya was not pleased by his attitude, she said to me, "Let him come to India and I’ll make him sleep with King cobras and then let’s see who’s laughing!!"

The camp site was more of a secluded spot in the woods, the only notable difference was that there was a huge bonfire right in the centre and there were others like us who had arrived just before us. Our friendly neighborhood driver introduced us. There was a young German couple, two super hunks from the US and a lone girl from Sweden.

Sometimes I wonder why Indians don’t ever have the courage to just go backpacking on their own. What really stops us? Why can’t we just take a break from work for one complete year and just go explore the world and do what we want. I ask Aanya the same thing, and according to her it’s more to do with our culture and responsibility towards the family and how we like to save each penny for a rainy day.

And just in the middle of that discussion Aanya pops out, "I think I have a teeny weenie crush on the white guy".

I had to somehow control my emotions and not show it to her that it really bothered me and it meant anything to me.

I spoke like a typical macho guy, "You want me to head over there and ask him out for you??"

Aanya now all blushing "Don be mad, I was just kidding and wanted to see your reaction"

I was like "WTF, why would you do that?"

Aanya "Just for fun, leave it"

What with these women, when they say it’s the end, that means it’s the END, if you say anything after that, it will only start a new fight or you will labeled as pushy, So I just put my tail between my legs and just let go of that topic.

Our hosts had provided us with our individual tents and there were arrangements made where we could just freshen ourselves by the campsite. The mood was festive in the camp and our hosts had arranged for a small revelry with barbequed lamb and wine flowing freely. After dinner we just sat there eating melted marshmallows by the bonfire and it was so magical to have Aanya by my side at that precise instant. I could just go on looking at her forever if I was given the opportunity but I had to settle for stealing some sideways glances. .

(To be continued...)

Technicolour Dreams

I met Aanya in my dreams and she is a wildlife photographer, she is so passionate about the animal kingdom that she wouldn’t hurt a cockroach, let alone kill them. The story begins with one such adventure, where I had the fortune of assisting her on one of her wild back campaigns in the land down under. Aanya had received an invite from Steve Irwin himself to document the great outback.

As we arrived at Adelaide airport I could sense the nervousness in Aanya's eyes to be able to meet the great man himself. We stepped out of the airport and the breeze literally hit us like a breath of fresh air. It was so humid that my glasses became foggy due to the temperature difference inside and outside of the airport, that sure made Aanya chuckle like a little girl.

Our hosts had made arrangements for us to be taken to the great outback straight away. We were taken to Wyandra, which was an 8 hour ride from the airport. As soon as we stepped outside of Adelaide city the landscape turned from concrete to the great opens. You could see the red soil as long as your eyes could travel; the road felt like God himself created a great divide across the desert in form of a two lane road which was magnificent in its own way. Even though we were tired from the long flight, we couldn’t stop admiring the beauty that was so full in our face. Aanya's shutterbug instincts kicked into action, she clicked anything and everything that came in front of us.

4 hours into the journey and I could sense Aanya was truly exhausted, so I tell the driver to pull over so that at least we can stretch our legs. Picture this: The sun was almost setting, the sky had turned into a lovely hue of orange, birds in flocks flying back to their homes, the afternoon breeze was still humid and hot and just then we spot our first kangaroo. Aanya just stopped breathing, It was a sight to behold; this one had a small baby tucked in its front pocket. The driver looking at us said "Mate, you’ll see so many kangaroos from now on, that you’ll be sick of seeing them". Aanya just gave him a dirty stare and went bonkers clicking; her weariness vanished in a vapor.

We were on the road again, it was dark by now and it was both scary and thrilling to cross that wild outback on our own. This was the moment we thanked our hosts that they sent an experienced driver by our side but somehow even that failed to pacify Aanya. The way she held my hand, I could sense that this experience was making her jittery; though we were good friends this new found intimacy had profound implications on me. I mean who would not fall in love with a human being who was so passionate about nature, wildlife and her work and to top that she looked so pretty and attractive in her jumper suit that she specially bought for this trip which made it very hard to resist.

(To be continued...)

P.S: I am penning this down as a series of adventures that appeared in my dream as is.

The heart wants what it wants.

They say to start something new is always the toughest part. But I believe once started something, maintaining its perpetual motion is even more difficult.

I believe most people live their lives in utmost ignorance of the purpose of why they are here. The peers surrounding them define a particular course of action, a aim is set and most of us trod on that path believing that is right for us. Now don get me wrong, I don presume myself to be enlightened, but I consider myself to be woken up and aware.

If I look back at the last 25 years of my life, 75% has been spent in pursuing goals that I thought was right for me in the long run which was as defined by the society and peers around me. I admit to have lived a empty life filled with pursuing mindless goals. When a series of unfortunate incidents that came my way, I realised, whats the purpose I am chasing after something so blindly and whats the purpose of my life. I had my principles and sticking by my values was the most veneered integrity in my life. I used to be god fearing but my faith has been shaken. I am reluctant to admit that I am a borderline atheist.

I believe in realistic goals, and I have achieved them far earlier than I had anticipated. Maybe that's the reason I feel this void in me. Maybe this is what they call the mid life crisis and I am going through that at just 26. If I think about it, would I be better off living in my shell to live just like all the others, maybe yes or maybe no. There is a question of what next. Is only the chase that gave me this high. Should I redefine my goals? But what next after meeting those goals. You see its a endless and pit less cycle. Living life in the fast lane has got me nowhere. Its only got me back to the starting line. You got to relax, step back and enjoy the finest moments in your life.

Recently I was thinking about people who live up to 100 or nearing 100. What really motivates them to live so longer? They would have seen so much all around them. People younger to them passing away, Organs failing, loosing memory n motor functions. I used to think, that if i ever met with an accident and if I couldn't walk again, I would rather end my life than living that wretched and miserable existence. But now after gone through one of the worst periods of my life I believe circumstances can make you handle any god damn problem coming in your way. Nothing is perfect, its all in your mind.

The mind plays huge tricks on us. To keep it in check and free of negativity is a herculean task but you gotta do it to have peace of mind. The only way to live this life is of acceptance. Sooner or later life teaches you the same.

If you look around there are so many people suffering due to lifestyle related diseases. I am not afraid of dying and if I live up to 60 I would be more than happy. But I would like to at least achieve a couple of unrealistic goals things before that happens, like writing a book, going to the himalayas, and a world tour. I am no more afraid of following my heart and listening to my inner voice. The heart wants what it wants.

A certain friend once said, "Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting, 'WOW . . . What a ride!"

Buddhist Meditation

(This is for Personal Reference)
THE SPEAKING TREE
An Empty Mind Need Not Be The Devils Workshop
Girish Deshpande

It is strange how we have been made to believe since growing years, of an idle mind being the devils workshop. The Buddhist view is to the contrary. Sit in a comfortable position as lotus or just cross-legged in a quiet place, with the spine erect, hands folded across your lap, with the bottom of your right palm resting on the left palm and the two thumbs touching each other. Eyes angled at the slant of the nose, shoulders thrown back, chin slightly tucked in and the tongue tip touching the palate of the slightly open mouth the seven-point Vairacona posture. Steady the mind with slow and regular breaths. Focus on the breath till you sense reasonable steadiness of mind. Observe the mind carefully. What is happening within it Quite likely there will be thoughts because such is its nature. All forms, sounds, thoughts and perceptions there is nothing that does not arise in the mind. Now observe mindfully what is happening to these thoughts. Some come and go on their own; few others linger and retreat while yet others are persistent . This is a normal experience.

Here begins the interesting part. While in this state of observance , where you are aware of what is going on around you but not engaging in them on in any way, you will see that unless there is an engagement of any arisen thought or feeling by the intervention of any one of the six senses, five sensory and the conceptualised mind, no response will be forthcoming in the form of body or speech actions. This means that only when we engage, consciously or subconsciously, with our arising thoughts and feelings, do they have the capacity to manifest further. It means, if we do not engage with arising thoughts or feelings, they will die or fade out on their own. This is the nature of our mind. Awareness, undivided from Emptiness. This is known as the view.

Slowly come out of this state and return to the ordinary state. As soon as an external negative stimulus of any kind is given to the mind, be it an angry word, an unpleasant smell, a loud sound, a painful feeling, a sorrowful sight, a negative thought with a capacity to bring suffering upon us or others, observe for a moment how this stimulus is being treated by the mind before reacting to it. If we can effectively change this immediately reactive treatment into a delayed response kind of treatment from within the state of emptiness , the resultant offering will be pleasant and virtuous. Train yourself in mindfulness. At all times be vigilant of the manner in which the mind is processing every external stimulus. To an ordinary mind, stimuli can be sensational, arousing, disturbing and seductive. The mind is gullible and thoughts can deceive easily. But if we are observant at every moment, we will be able to grasp the slipping mind and instead respond from the View state of awareness-emptiness .

This can be made a continuous living experience. And to relentlessly practise the accumulations of the view and meditation at all times, is our action. Perfecting this state is Dzogchen practice, central to the Nyingma tradition of Buddhism.

Remember to humbly dedicate all pleasant sights for the liberation of all beings. Actions themselves have no capacity to bring benefit unless dedicated. Such dedication, detached from pride, ambition and conceptualisation will bring us happiness through liberation from sufferance.
The writer is a practising Nyingma Buddhist.