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June 25 A trek through Darma valley
In north-eastern Kumaon on the border of India, Nepal and Tibet there lies the 3 valleys of Byans, Darma and Chaudas. It takes 6 days to reach the last village from Delhi by rail, road and on foot. Through these valleys pass the way which leads to the Kailash mountain and Mansarovar in Tibet. The local beliefs here are a blend of Hinduism (Kailash is Shiv's home), Budhism (they call their priests Lamaji), Jainism (they believe Mahavir passed through Chaudas on his way to Kailash) and Pantheism (they worship nature in the form of stones and trees). They take their dead to Kailash (Adi Kailash if not the Kailash), have ritualistic festivals where they offer sacrifice to the mountains (Pancha Chuli peaks) and own Bajaj Pulsar 220 DTS-i (Now, this is a story that I will tell you some other time).
Till the war in 1962, the border existed just for the sake of it as there was free movement to and from Tibet to these valleys. The trade used to go on all summer and during winter there would be a mass migration to the lower heights. This trade was what made the people prosperous over the centuries. The war changed it all though. With severe restrictions on what was pretty much their main source of income (agriculture is at best for sustenance), the people of these valleys had to start looking for alternatives. In most cases that meant leaving their home and coming to the plains for jobs. And this they did with gusto. They went to school, worked hard and got good education, well enough to be in top posts of various streams all over the country. Today these enterprising people are proud of this shift and a 95% literacy rate bears testimony to that. Next time you meet a Kutiyal, a selal, a Namgyal or any of their counterparts, tell them they have done well.
Till as recently as 2002-03, the area was out of bounds for most of the visitors as it fell under the inner line (an imaginary line running parallel to the Indo-China border, drawn after the war). With the restrictions now relaxed trekkers can now get a glimpse (dont expect anything more than that in 6 days) of this remote land with all its peculiarities. Trekkers go to Byans valley for the Adi Kailash and Om Parvat parikrama, Chaudas valley for cultural festivities and Darma valley for the experience of camping at the base of the formidable Pancha chuli glacier. And thats where we went.
The journey starts from Dharchula, a previously indistinct town, but now a major hub as most of the villagers from the high valleys have shifted base here. Its bang on the Mahakali river with Nepal on the other bank, separated by a foot bridge. One can cross over to Nepal, buy some decent woollen clothes and be back in 20 minutes. The last roadhead is Dar, 40 Km from Dharchula and prone to constant landslides. (There is a dam in the vicinity, I am sure you can put two and two together). The path leads from there to the camping ground of Urthing. Understand that the word 'path' is used here in a crude sense. If you can imagine a 3 feet narrow space, carved on the face of a 75 degree mountain slope with a raging Dhauli river flowing 1000 feet under your feet, you'll know what I mean. That the area is remote is immediately apparent coz of the lack of deforestation on the mountain slopes, something you are not accustomed to see in lower Kumaon. The flat land and a stream at Urthing provide the two basic necessities for camping.
Day 1- Narrow path to Urthing with Dhauli Ganga down below
Next day we carried on along the river as we entered a dense forest of Oak and other broad leaved trees. The path was damaged by heavy rains last year (More and more of unseasonal rains are being experienced all over the Himalayas), and is now an improvised version which falls to the river bank and then climb over landslides, to go down again. Tired, we reached the village of Nagling, under the shadow of a 6000M peak of the same name (the locals call it sheshnag though). We stayed with locals in a house which once belonged to the tax collector. ( He had a red stamp which was recognised in India as well as Tibet, as per locals). It was a unique experience to live in this village with its stone and mud houses, rich wooden carvings on doors and windows, ofcourse no electricity and villagers who love singing and dancing as much as anything else. The local guide took us through the village and all its wonderful stories of rivers stopping in mid-flow, turbaned visitor in the nights and how they find out they are Indians (when the army arrived during the war). The children were home during vacation (no school there so all kids go to Dharchula to study) and were playing at each corner. A game of volleyball confirmed its status as the preferred sport at high altitude (we once saw a furiously contested volleyball game between the monks and the locals at Komic in Spiti, amongst the highest villages in the world).
Day 2- Homestay at Nagling village
The valley opened up considerably next day as we crossed the wonderfully located village of Balling with its wide fields in the process of being sowed, flour mill on the mountain stream and a “dhaba” for travelers (we had chai there). It was almost a perfect village. We still were along the river which has cut a deep gorge through the plateau. Fillim, Sone, Dungtu and Dantu were the villages we crossed before we finally reached the base camp of Pancha chuli peaks. By evening the clouds lifted to present us with an amazing view of the peaks and their huge glacier with 11 waterfalls (we counted). That night with Pancha Chuli peaks glistening so close in the star and quarter-moon light is etched for eternity.
Day 3- Pancha Chuli peaks in late evening
Early next morning we walked the 2 kms to the glacier and what a walk it was. Through numerous glacier streams and lilac rhododendrons, with the grazing sheep and goats and to a panorama like nothing else we went. We got to the tip of the glacier and spent a happy half hour there. We heard the thunderous sound of the glacier breaking and even saw a bit of it falling. With a renewed respect for mountaineers we started our journey back to Nagling.
Day 4- Walk to the PanchaChuli glacier
The day of the bugyals. The most memorable day of the trek for most of us. As we went towards the sheshnag peak from Nagling village we passed through 4 bugyals (high altitude alpine meadow), each different from other. The first one is a rather small but has the specialty of attracting Kasturi dear coz of the grass that grows there. The second one literally defines what a bugyal means. Open grassland with a carpet of multi colored flowers (even in June), a glacier stream passing through, wildlife grazing around and surrounded from all sides by high peaks. This bugyal, more than anything else, knocks your senses out and makes the trek through Darma valley what it is.
Day 5- The second Bugyal of Nagling
The third bugyal is again unique as far as bugyals go. It is an open grassland with the property that its grass absorbs huge quantities of water in which it secretes a kind of medicinal oil which the locals believe is therapeutic. So the shoes were off and we waded through the marshy bugyal hoping it takes away all our aches. The funny part though came when it was time to dry the legs by rolling in the grass outside and thats when we realized how spoilt we are.
It was time now for the fourth bugyal, the bugyal of rock and ice and like everything that day it also did not disappoint. A huge, and I mean huge glacier welcomed us and we walked on it for a long time and distance. This really was a special day and no one should miss the four bugyals of Nagling if they are in Darma valley.
Day 5- The 4th bugyal of rock and Ice
Back to Dar we walked in a silent procession, all of us recollecting and savoring the sites of the last 5 days: The numerous herds of pack goats delivering loads from one village to another, the villagers passing us and heading to their homes (they cover in one day the distance we covered in 3), the hide and seek game that peaks play with the clouds all day long, the roar of the river, the flight of the lammergiers (huge snow eagles), bharal (wild goat) grazing on slopes impossibly steep and far away, the progression of the day (which we never seem to notice usually) and above all the scale of the Himalayas and our insignificance amongst the elements of nature.
Offer a stone
Some facts about the Darma valley trek: (For the more academically inclined)
Getting there: Dharchula is a long (and not advisable) 2 day or a more comfortable 3 day drive from Delhi.
Trek itinerary:
Day 1: Drive to Dar from Dharchula (39Km) and walk 10km to Urthing campsite. (3.5 hours)
Day 2: Urthing to Nagling village. (12Km, 4.5 hours)
Day 3: Nagling to Pancha Chuli base camp. (14Km, 6 hours)
Day 4: Base camp to Pancha Chuli glacier and back (2+2 km, 2 hours). Base camp to Nagling.
Day 5: Nagling to 4 bugyals and back (4+4 km, 4 hours). Nagling to Urthing.
Day 6: Urthing to Dar. Drive back to Dharchula.
One extra night can be spent either at base camp or Nagling village.
Just to give you an idea of the altitude we reached on trek days.
Height in meters
For more trek pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/gaurav.punj/DarmaValleyTrekJune08
November 21 Stranded in the Pin valley
As we walked up the stream towards Mudh village we could feel quite a few pair of eyes fixed on us. Couple of Indian trekkers in these areas accustomed to seeing Israelis and other globe trotters, generally does tend to raise eyebrows, but this was different. Conversations had stopped; a bunch of trekkers had stopped playing cards in the coffee shop to look out; children abandoned their football game and were talking excitedly. The remoteness of this village can not be the only reason.
Thoroughly drenched, we just wanted to get to a warm place though. Gatuk’s mother and sister were leading the way, while persistently offering to carry my backpack, and Nobjung was behind us. We entered from the ground floor and then climbed up a stair to the kitchen. The spitian kitchen, much like the ladakhi and infact the entire trans-Himalayan, is the centre of the house. The warmest, cleanest, most spacious and best equipped. This was a typical one. A large square room with the ‘chullah’ in the middle and a mud pipe rising from it to act as a chimney. One whole wall occupied by shelves with neatly arranged crockery and other utensils and an attached store room to keep all rations.
We sat on the seats made of thick blankets along two walls of the room. The chullah was continuously fed with fuel and was the source of all the warmth that was making us feel so much better. Warmth is precious for Spitians. Everything is designed to keep as much of it inside as possible. Mud walls, cattle on the ground floor and layers of hand woven blankets. This is what helps them survive the bitterly cold and long winters when the mercury drops to -25 degree C. Plus of course the ‘Arak’, alcohol brewed in house from Barley.
The view from the huge window in the kitchen was spectacular. The pastel shades of the mountains, the raging river, the rain, all combined to make it appear like a painting. We were offered some butter tea and then some more. Gatuk’s mother has been anxious about her son since last night as we were all supposed to reach here yesterday. She spotted the party from the window when they were not more than a speck.
We, along with gatuk the guide, kalu the cook, Lopzang the intern and 4 donkeys had started on the trek 4 days ago. Starting from the village of kafnu in Kinnaur, we had crossed over the Srikhand range via the Wang-khango pass and entered the Pin valley in Spiti. From the pine forest of kafnu, across the meadows of Phustriang, through the pastures of Kara and into the barren brown ness of Spiti we had walked. Oblivious of the unexpected, and until lately unheard of, rain which has been pouring down in Pin valley and other parts of Spiti, we enjoyed perfect weather and had climbed the 4865 m pass under a bright Sun.
Our first hurdle came in the way of the first of two streams one has to cross to reach Mudh. Usually a gentle stream, sometimes even a trickle, it had turned into a roaring torrent, blowing away the stone embankment which had never been tested before. After two hours of trying all means, only kalu amongst the three was able to cross it. He was sent to the village to get some help while we waited, still unaware of nature’s fury being enacted around us. In the last few days, flash floods had caused heavy landslides, swept away bridges and roads, stranded locals and tourists and even killed a few. When kalu didn’t return and threatening clouds started gathering over us we decided to pitch tent for the night.
It rained all night. Not heavy rain but persistent. We got up at 5 and with the help of gatuk and Lopzang managed to cross the stream, now flowing with slightly less vengeance. Took us almost an hour to do so and the effort drained us out. But we were finally on the other side and that felt good. Even the realization that two of our donkeys crossed and marched towards the village in the night, and we now have to share the load carried by them, didn’t dampen our spirits. Walking on the desolate trail in the bleak weather and amidst the gigantic scale of the Himalaya was an experience beyond words. The elements of nature conspiring to put things in their place. It was beautiful, scary, surreal.
As we approached Mudh we met kalu and a villager on their way to look for us. We were having serious concerns about the second stream and their sight was a relief. Kalu carried onwards to help his two friends while Nobjung accompanied us. The stream was wider and the water was very fast. But we had some experience by now and with the help of nobjung (who lent his back to my partner) we managed to cross it. The short but steep climb from there to Mudh was punishing.
Once everyone was seated comfortably in the kitchen kalu told us that the village and the entire Pin valley has been cut off from the main Spiti valley for almost 6 days. Many locals and some trekkers, including the group of Israelis, have been stranded. The nearest road head is 30kms away at Attargu, but bad weather and the risk involved has made them stay here rather than attempt walking. That was the only topic of discussion in the entire village. The weather patterns have been changing over the last few years they said. What was an exception is becoming more of a constant now. The high altitude desert is getting more and more rain every year. But the brittle terrain can’t take this and revolts ever so often. This time with much more fury. The ramifications of global warming, still a subject of academic debate and finger pointing, are very real here.
Rumors were getting wings. People were talking about how the mountain had collapsed or how the new bridge at guling was washed away within seconds. The best one was about a car that was apparently stranded between the villages of sagnam and tailing. Unable to go beyond either village, it has been ferrying passengers between these two villages. It had attained almost a mythical status.
After consulting with Kalu and Lopzang we decided to attempt walking to Attargu the next morning, provided the weather holds. We left early and reached our first stop, Tailing, in couple of hours. We stopped at Lopzang’s place for a brief while. Another round of the generous spitian hospitality and a change of clothes for Lopzang later, we were back on the road with Lopzang deciding to accompany us till Kaza. Just like that.
We were now in the land of the mythical Tata Sumo and my eyes were scanning the horizon for any sign of it. We had taken a short cut and hence were no longer on the road which was on the other side of the river. Crossed a bend and there it was. We all were shouting and pointing to the car, which was for real. It was on its way to tailing and by the time it comes back we would have anyways reached sagnam on foot. So we moved on, feeling lighter in our hearts and strangely very hopeful.
We had decided to cover the distance in two days and take a break at Guling, but we made good time and reached there by 2 p.m. The road until there was not bad with a few patches which have collapsed. The villagers told us that it’s a further 4 hour walk and the road gets quite bad. But some people have made their way across from Attargu this morning, so it can be negotiated. Well conditioned by now, have been walking for 5 days on that altitude, we were not tired. There was also a feeling of optimism amongst us and we decided to carry on.
As we moved along the road we came across landslide after landslide and gradually realized that the whole mountain side actually had collapsed on the road. We were now walking on the debris where the road used to be and the Pin river was flowing ever so menacingly close. Many a times we were on unstable land and could feel the ground move under our feet. No one was talking and we were moving silently in a single file. Even a small sound can cause landslides and the mountain was still very dangerous with small stones coming down ever so often. At one place there was a huge hole in the middle of the road and a raging stream of water coming from the hill was swirling and going straight in. We had to walk across it and could feel water gushing under our feet. It was truly nerve racking.
There were small parties of locals coming across from the other side, all walking purposefully. We kept asking how further to go and always got, ‘just a bit more’ as the answer. It seemed unending and we walked over 5 kms on the debris before we finally saw a lone bulldozer fighting its way across. He had been working since morning and has cleared a patch of only 100 meters or so. The worst seemed to be over and we rushed onwards. Finally around 6:30, after walking for 30kms and for 12 hours, we reached Attargu. Luckily we soon got a car which took us to Kaza and then to Demul, our next destination.
Pin valley is one of the remotest places in the Indian Himalaya. It is one of the most awe inspiring also. Its a place for realizations, positivism and gaining perspective on life. Its tantric sect of Buddhism with its wandering lamas, the Buzhen, enacting the teachings as they travel gives it uniqueness in the unique Spiti valley. This amazing culture has survived for centuries under a harsh terrain and climate. The simple and very hard working people here are at a loss to understand the changing patterns of the weather. They sometimes hold themselves responsible for making their god/mountain angry. We know they are wrong. Don't we?
-gp
February 19 The fish farmThe fish farm There was this fish farm near our village in the fields. Its main purpose was, as its name suggests, to provide the locals some alternate source of food and of course some employment during the rainy season. It was a trough in the otherwise vast stretch of vast plain land. During summers it was our cricket ground. Not just ours actually, at least 4 other teams claimed possession to this most desirable of cricket grounds. Well, it could have been a football ground also, and sometimes we did play football there, but cricket was where its true character was displayed. With its hard and firm soil, carpet like grass and slopes that provided spectators wonderfully relaxed seats this was our Wellington just 1km from my house. In Kharar, a cricket team comes of age when it prepares a pitch for the first time. We did it early in one summer at the fish farm and that’s why we claimed it. Others didn’t agree. We just shaved off the grass they said, and that’s hardly preparing a pitch. We did get a small roller though and had done our best to flatten the pitch. In any case, we kept claiming its our home ground and picking fights with other teams whenever we didn’t get to use it first. Summer days are long. Very long. Especially when your day starts at 4:30 a.m. That’s when we had to be up if we wanted to get to the ground before 5 and beat others to it. A short but treacherous bicycle ride later we would reach the place, pat each other on the back, do a little victory jig….. and wait. We were not too much for the run around the ground and do warm up and stuff. We would rather roll down the slopes and wrestle with each other while we wait for some other team to show up and play a match against us. The fish farm used to be full to the brim during monsoon obviously, but even at its driest and when the cricket was on in full swing there still remained a small pond beyond the off side boundary. Although hardly any fish survived the summer Sun, there was always someone trying his luck fishing while enjoying some cricket. Usually laborers from UP or Bihar working in the nearby farms. Fish is their favorite. That pond was also the resting place for many a cricket ball. Not before a long frantic search from all 22 players though. Cricket balls were expensive. 90 Rs. It was during one such search that I felt something very slippery in my hands. Within a second it was wrapped around my arm as I jerked it outside the water. This was not the first time I was seeing a water snake but definitely not from such close quarters. “oye there is a snake on your arm”, shouted a friend standing close by as if I was looking like someone oblivious of his precarious situation. Trust me I wasn’t. I was disoriented more than anything else. I had a snake on my arm while looking for a cricket ball in a fish farm. All snakes are venomous to a certain degree according to a recent study. That was not what I was thinking though. I just wanted to untangle myself out of this. Everyone had gathered around me by then. I looked closely at the snake. Black, about 3 feet long, very soft and confused. I say confused because I am sure even it was not used to be plucked out of the water like this. It kept trying to bury its head in one of its coils and clearly was not enjoying it there. I, buoyed a bit by such behavior of the snake and the confident assertion by the ’fisherman of the day’ that the pond snakes are not venomous, made a feeble attempt to shake it off my arm. I even tried diffidently to catch hold of the head. Whom was I kidding. I was never going to hold the snake by its head or tail or anything in between. Not at that moment at least. “how do you know its not venomous?” I asked the guy. “everybody knows water snakes are not venomous- water dilutes their venom” he replied with the air of a know-it-all. I suddenly was on full alert. This is exactly the kind of confident reply I will give to a question on, lets say Universe, if someone from my mohalla asked me. I was in 8th standard. I immediately aborted all attempts to shake it off or touch it. I looked at it again. Menacingly dark, never ending around my arm, slimy and determined to teach me a lesson. If I tell you that I was thinking very clearly at that time and after doing some mental calculations decided that the best strategy was to dip my arm back in the water and the snake will just slide off- I would be lying. I just did that on pure instinct. But was there anything else I could have done, one wonders. Once in familiar territory it reacted promptly. Any plans it harbored of teaching me a lesson or any such thing were quickly shunned. Not that I am complaining. It glided off hastily from my arm and disappeared. We didn’t search for the ball anymore. It was almost noon and the mercury had hit 45 degrees. We were hungry. The junior most member of our team was dispatched to the village market to get some samosas and pakodas. The other option was to go home and eat roti and sabzi with lassi. But it was summer vacation and that’s just not done. While waiting for the delicacies we passed time by chewing on some sugarcane and discussing how snakes breath under water. Samosas when hot make for a very good snack. It takes forever to finish one with the sizzling potatoes making sure one takes every bite with caution and chews it well before swallowing. And you feel quite full after having one. A cold samosa on the other hand is finished in just two bites and you are left wondering what’s the point? Our next stop was the nearby tube-well which draws its water from the fish farm. The farmer who owns that field was a relative of one of us and he would allow us to take a dip in the well. Well it was a pleasure. The ground water was cool and we loved it. Frolicking in the collector tub we were glad it was summer and it was so hot. I had almost forgotten that an hour ago I was in quite a perilous situation. My friends helped. They discussed the snake, samosas and tube-well in the same breadth. As if I haven’t been particularly composed and deserved special mention. ha. And so ended half a typical summer day for us. I visited my village after a few years recently and a lot had changed. The view from my terrace was no longer of endless green fields on one side and neat one-storeyed houses on the other. The proximity to a developing city comes with a cost. The fields are dotted with blocks of ’colonies’. Residential apartments made on cheaper land to accommodate the ever increasing hunger for space. Empty row of apartments. Waiting to be occupied by the next rush of city upper class striving for a ’quality life’ away from the city. I wondered what would have happened to our fish farm. With a couple of friends acting as guides I went to check whatever was left of my most cherished childhood memories. My friends gave me a quick update on which builder was making what kind of apartments on whose land. How much they got the land for and how much they are selling the houses for. They were narrating all this with no emotion. But beneath I could sense cynicism. A sense of loss. The kind I was feeling. We reached the fish farm. Or rather the place where it used to be. The whole of the crater, the size of a cricket field and atleast 15 feet deep, has been filled with soil from the nearby villages and flattened. The whole of it. They were now waiting for the soil to settle down so the land becomes firm enough for them to make a new ‘colony’. “growth man, growth”, my friends said. -gp P.b: please let me know what u think of the story.
October 26 its just a phone!!lets give myself some importance....
a change in city couldn't do it.... a change in job couldn't.... neither a change in my relationship status... nor my chicken pox (yes its still out there and is for real).... but my mobile phone ( rather its loss) just made me do it... write
and am i surprised?..... oh no... i am not... and if you are one of the 40M, neither would you be.... its just that big a deal... not the fact that i had a mobile and i lost it.... just those few days in between when i was 'off the hook'... so to speak...
now that i have a brand new set.... and its started claiming its right... (i spend most of my time and energy making sure its spotless and playing with its features (which i am sure i will rarely use)).... i just had to write about the....aaaa....this....ummm.... 'mobile revolution' (hey... when u cant think of anything interesting...cliches are always there to fall back on) ...before i am taken....
few years ago... when my friend asked us to call him precisely at 4:30 in the evening so that he could pick up his mobile phone and impress the girl he was with.... i figured we are on to something big here.... everyone did... no one had an idea....
i will go the business school way here (not to be considered an endorsement).. the case study
case study: mobile phones in chonkla mohalla, kharar, Punjab
now my mohalla in a typical village-town of punjab was not exactly renowned for its tech-savvy kids who will lap onto any new technology out there.... the closest we ever came to doing anything 'techno' was prolly cleaning the VCR head.... we were a bunch who were happy hitting the cricket ball, chasing kites and discussing (and sometimes enacting) the sunday mithun movie. and 3 years is all it took.
a typical conversation 3 years ago in the chonkla mohalla:
neelu: lets go to chandigah on 'the bullet'
mallu: forget it man... how about we climb the jamun tree and get some
a typical conversation these days in the chonkla mohalla:
deepu: my phone is 2.5G - GPRS enhancement for GSM
me: ha?
mittu: mine is 3GPP2 and has EDGE... latest
me: hmmm....
sheru: lets SMS ACT DT to 3456 and activate the 30p STD
me: yoohoo....
QED
India is obsessed by mobile phones. As simple as that. Why? hmmm.... reliance, maybe.... dunno... infact lets not even get into that. I guess it has just caught the imagination of an essentially curious-by-nature populace fed on a diet of unimaginative movies, inaccessible (and hence useless) technology and uninspired ambition........and so be it.
-gp
P.B: the names mentioned in the case study are real... although who said whom might have got interchanged..... and please dont mind my bland translation from punjabi to english.... and never ask these guys the full forms of the acronyms....
February 03 Suicide points and lemon sodaI can either go into a detailed explanation of not writing for so long or I can just continue with this blog.....
When I was moving to Bangalore from Berkeley, I read a lot about this place. After the compulsary berating (no infrastructure, too many people, etc etc)....almost every article I read went on to describe how Bangalore is ideally located as a base camp for visiting so many places of interest...be it hiking/trekking, beach resorts, adventure camps, historical sites, etc....and I wanted to explore all of these.....Now, I have till now fallen woefully short of my initial plans of travelling around South India, but off late I did manage to visit some of the places. While trying not to convert this blog into a travelogue I just wanted to share some 'insights'.
As a kid I always noticed it but never bothered much abt it..(I now realize I never bothered much abt anything...except perhaps planning the next escape from the house to go out and play)....and this time when I saw it I just couldn't help but wonder....there seem to be 2 things which are associated with most of the hill stations....the popular ones atleast.....suicide points and lemon soda....( I hereby copyright this title....and am going to add one more to my list of grand plans....write a book with this title detailing the hill stations in India....woohoo)....anyways....dont u think so? I mean ofcourse my experience has been very limited....to some hill stations in Himachal and Uttranchal and recently one in Tamil Nadu....but haven't u guys noticed this?
Having established that I might be on to something here...(ofcourse I am assuming)....the next task is to dissect this seemingly inane but commonplace phenomenon.....Now, lets take it one by one.....suicide points....they come disguised in 2 forms.....(actually disguise is not the right word, coz...)....as ur regular, everyday suicide points....case in point....suicide point, Simla....OR under the cloak of some arbitrary name...case in point....lamb's rock, Coonoor. Time for a disclaimer:
Disclaimer: Suicide points generally offer the best "view" one can get. No denying that. Nothing against suicide points as such.
Whether its called the suicide point, or lamb's rock, or anything....suicide points will generally have a rocky precipice overlooking a deep valley with some boulders scattered here and there....actually not just here and there....precisely at the point where u will expect to hit the ground if u do decide to leap off....well, thats the whole point isn't it?.....i mean whoever chose this as the stage to end his or her life must have done some calculations (and u can bet these calculations were accurate...i mean the mind is clear u see) as to make sure they cant escape with a broken leg or something....it has to be foolproof....(excuse my impudence).... And coz of the use they have been put into, the locals will be besotted by suicide points and once they realized their potential as tourist attractions.....put the stalls and spread the word....
Lemon soda...lemonade....neembu paani...shikanjami....banta...its all the same...(actually the only variations come from adding or not adding soda).....There is no "point"...(pun intended)...without lemon soda. You go to any popular spot in a hill station and its always there. And its always being consumed at alarmingly high rates by visitors.
This is a typical situation: You go to a hill station...and so do thousands of ur fellow citizens at any given time....even before u reach there u have a fairly good idea of what to do...(ur friends or their friends who have been there have told u what places to visit).....just outside the bus stand or railway station there will be hoardings put up by the tourism dept telling u abt the same places which u already know.....there will be guides/cabbies who will tell u abt the same places....in other words....u do what everyone else does....Now, u hire a cab or a bus and go on a sight seeing tour.... the cab will take u right to the spot so that the only thing u actually have to do is get out of the cab and look....(we in India take our vacations seriously ok...when we say we r going to relax, we mean that....we dont go to the hills so that we can climb them....just take us to the top and we will see howz the view from there...no messing around)....and what u see first is someone selling lemonade....now everyone is drinking it and since u are on vacation and u were just 'driven' up a hill, and since its good for preventing dehydration, u might as well have it also.... Btw, lemonade is actually good to prevent dehydration, which i assume is the reason u get it at the end of a long, ardous journey up the hill....once upon a time.
So here u go....there are no hill stations without suicide points and there are no suicide points without lemon soda....
-gp
P.b.1: In the end, all trips to the hill stations culminate at one 'point'. Organised sight seeing tours are the bane of tourism in India.
P.b.2: Rainforest retreat in Coorg is a wonderful place to stay. Its actually a rainforest btw.
October 03 Chocolates at my deskI work for a BPO.
It did take some time to sink in but thats what it is. And its funny. Not the fact that i work for a BPO (which to some extent is ironic) but the BPO as a concept. Yes ofcourse it makes sense and all.....i am not talking abt that. I am talking abt....well u will know soon....
Lets start with "the call". Trust me, for most of the people I see in my company (and we can safely assume its true for all) this means a lot more then 2 people talking over phone. So u either find people morose coz they have "the call" coming up soon or overwhelmed coz they have managed one more. So what is "the call". Its a periodic chat (the frequency depends on how decipherable ur accent is) with the person whose a** is on line coz he has hired you to save costs. Now you havent done urself a favor by raising their expectations by actually saving some $$$ in the earlier project ( I have worked in the US of A and I know how they do their quarterly/annual projections). So "the client" (another concept which has taken its own meaning in the BPO lexicon) is always looking for $$$....and you are constantly giving him/her some stats mumbo-jumbo which when translated means......r u crazy, if I was so smart wont I be working for the Mckinsey's and the BCG's and charging you 10 times more for not doing the same work......its a war out there.
'The americanization of an average BPO employee.'.........Everyone...and i mean everyone wants to go to america. Its the - I saw bad movie, I make all see - situation. There is always someone in ur office circle who is "lucky" enough to get a chance to go to states- for work that is. And when they come back....man...do they talk. "What are we doing with our lives here", "what crap cars are we driving", "the strip bars are amazing", "the cable TV there is so damn good".....a small break here.....i overheard a conversation between a returnee and a starry eyed wannabe where the returnee was telling him abt the channels that they get in america and not in India.....and the example sited was 'Home and gardening' channel and how he spent many fruitful hours watching it.....Now ofcourse you go to a different country you ought to be excited abt that....but to actually get blown away by a Ford Taurus and dinner at chillies.... and the "chocolates" ......u cant go to states and come back without the best it has to offer- hersheys nuggets. and u can not not share them with everyone in the company.....never mind u only have a few left....but atleast everyone sees the mail and knows....'chocolates at my desk' ..OR.. 'I went to USA, losers'.
Self-explanatory and true: 'Can he speak English?' ........A scary sounding "client" to the manager of a new employee who just introduced himself with his full....and i mean full...name. 'You guys are amazing.' .......A delighted excel-illiterate "client" to a 3 member team who finally managed to create a pivot table after a weeks worth of "long hard hours". 'Have a great weekend.'.......A soon to be leaving for a friday night bash "client" to a not very amused employee at 11 p.m IST Friday night.
How do I handle calls? I have Japanese client.
-gp
P.b: On a serious note: BPO is a logical extension to the business=profit equation. It had to happen. I guess what need not happen is....for lack of better words...the divide between the client and the worker as evident from the scampering before calls, undermining themselves to appease the client....bordering on reverence, slogging 60 hours a week to complete deliverables, applying 6 sigma on anything and everything....including themselves, etc. The BPO industry in India is taking itself too seriously. Yes its a humble fact that lead to its inception. But it need not be. OR Is it just the psyche of the Indian working middle class? September 08 Confessionssince when has a blog became a confessional.....
i feel like writing all thats been happening in my life over the last 2 weeks.....i must resist.... coz u know, as they say towards the end of a rather sober sounding company announcement.....implications can be severe. So does that mean, no matter how much i keep saying...i dont give a damn...i actually do? OR is it coz in a bigger perspective ( my fav concept)....the events i allude to are trivial....
accepting the second reason as more convincing, lets move on then.
will talk in cricket terminology ......timing.....an oft repeated (by commentators mostly), yet crucial aspect of batting....' Its all about timing I say' is what usually suceeds a...well...well-timed boundary. Now as is the case with most of cricketing concepts, timing too has a parallel in life. (refer: my first blog).....the difference being, unlike cricket, here u cant always control it. u shouldn't. but its the answer to most of the "what-ifs" u will come across in life.
in statistics terminology now......law of averages.....before i write what i actually want to write....here is something for the eternal optimistic....according to one implication of the law, the more u fail...(girls, work, in anything...) the chances of u suceeding next time actually increase. (not unlike cricket, a lot of statistical concepts have parallels too). So what abt law of averages? Actually its a corollary i am more interested in. ( dont ask me if it actually exists). It goes something like this: the law of averages is the answer to most of the "why me" or for that matter "why not me" situations u will come across in life.
in my own terminology .....the hourglass effect...( refer: bloggers block). To reiterate, the more things u have to say, do, write, think, etc.....the more difficult it actually is to say, do, write, think, etc....
A matter of perception, just like the hourglass. ( Exercising my right: I will continue to be a little vague about this hourglass effect....till the time I deem fit). Now, following the precedent set by this blog to provide "ambiguous" answers to life's mysteries, I will end with this: the hourglass effect is the answer to most of the " how could I" situations u will come across in life.
one of many uses of a blog- one can write whatever crap, convoluted confessions et all...
-gp
August 17 Of greetings and groupismsHow are you doing? Whazzup? Howz life?
Why do people ask these things? Are they genuinely interested in whats happening in your life, the inconsequential going ons, life changing events...everything. If thats the case then how come no one stays long enough for me to finish telling them what actually is happening in my life......which although frivolous outwardly is of epic proportions actually....I think. Why do they look as if they have just commited a mistake. I mean I am just answering their question......
Or has it just become a social compulsion......like smiling....( Not that I have anything against smiling.....infact I love to see SOME people smile.....they are my stress busters.....but what I dont like is fake smiles.....wait, this was not meant to be on my likes and dislikes....so back we go).....Do people ask abt ur life coz that is how we r supposed to behave in a civilized society? Coz just saying hi is rude? inconsiderate?
I have a theory....( I know some of u have already started thinking.....here we go again.....but read on)....I think if we just go back in time.....when life was not so fast...( which again is something I dont understand.....how can life, a function of time, move at different speeds)....computers were not invented...( to ease our work....what a lie).....people actually had time...( in other words they didnt pretend to be busy.....maybe coz there was no such thing as performance bonus)....u know what I am talking abt, right. Now imagine urself walking down the road, in deep thought....( what am I gonna do once I get home? ....remember no TV/internet) ....and u come across an acquaintance.....darn good luck u think.....here goes my next hour. And most likely the other party is thinking likewise. So wht u do? U ask....how r u doing sir? and chat on merrily.....
Now, tell me....in this world of ....basically everything that wasn't there and more.....is this feasible. No. Its not. But we, always striving towards a perfect pragmatic existence, keep making this basic mistake.
Next time when u r asked abt ur life....u make sure u tell them. I will.
-gp
P.B: A note on Groupism: Groupism is injurious to health. I am serious. I have always felt that most of the things I have learnt in life (the things that matter atleast) I have learned from fellow beings. Now, if one restricts him/herself to a set of people...how r they ever gonna grow? Just my thoughts.
August 02 midnight musingslets see how random can a blog get.
it happens to me all the time.....my inner turmoil comes out in crazy ways.....from the obvious ( how i dress, etc) to the ridiculous (in my impulsiveness).....and now may I add...what I write in my blog....or think of writing considering my conversion ratio is still pretty low......whats the turmoil? u ask....i dodge.... and start on something else....what....on love, marriage and love marriage....this was supposed to be the title of my next blog.....but....anyways ...my best friend is abt to get divorced....and he now insists that the institution of marriage is nothin but....an institution.....a name for a relationship.....why he asks....and sites example of sweden....what do i think? i think i can argue both for and against.....what's the logic behind marriage?....see how i analyze everything..... stability.....isn't it? and why stability? .....for growth.....at its crudest....i dont know actually which side i am taking.....why am i not sure? is this my state of mind? is this the turmoil? u take a guess.....i dodge.... and move on to mediocricity....ha....reminds me of that famous line (i hope its famous) from the incredibles...."they keep creating new ways of celebrating mediocricity"...i think thats how it goes....u know there is a thing abt mediocricity.....like the commonality which it defines....it also becomes obvious...and hence a threat...in plenty. mediocricity besets u like an angry mob.....(all original quotes)....even before u wonder....i dodge... and what now....hypocrisy...actually gotta be more specific....pretentious ( which btw is my first criteria of categorising movies) young things.....go further down.....ha...u know whom i am referring to....(easy way of getting out when u cant think of exactly what to say)....gosh how i hate them.....'he/she is cool coz he/she is pretty and wears UCB'.....'i will dress up otherwise how will they know who i am'....but on second thought....if we analyze....generally mediocre, forming the hump of the normal curve, they just cant do better.... now dont u start forming theories.... -gp
P.B 1: The title is lifted from the title of one of the most...whats the word....alluring...e-mails I received from an ex. P.B 2: I have decided to update my blog atleast on a weekly basis.....so dont give up on me yet. July 08 When - and the art of street crossinghi all,
now that I know there are few of u out there who have nothin better to do than read my blog....should I be feeling respnsible for what I write.....i guess that wont be fun then....would it? how else can I justify writing abt the "art" of crossing streets... of all things out there to write abt...
as I mentioned to my friends in the 'US of A'....i like calling it that.....you have to take ur dear life in your hands atleast 3-4 times daily....( talk abt literal translations)... while crossing streets in bangalore....that is if you dont know the "art". Now, its not that difficult to learn.....considering ur life depends on it....and its not "rocket science" either....( cliched way of describing anything that YOU know but others dont)....
all Indians have a basic understanding of the "art".....look left,then right,then left again and cross....who doesn't remember the famous words. Now kids here are lucky. In US the only direction u r taught to look is straight.....at the flashing red sign....no wonder. ( its an entirely different blog what i mean here by no wonder...so wait)
now building on this basic princliple.....u add few more.....
always stay alert....dont stand on the footpath, thats one extra step u have to take.......take advantage of numbers ( drivers can get away with 1 or 2, but to hit 20 and run....not easy).....always keep inching forward.....make sure u r not the one in the front row (they are the ones who get their feet trampled)....AND....here comes the tricky part....u need to know Physics and have good instincts for this....but dont worry I will explain.
Now, the basic equation in Physics is displacement = velocity * time. So what you have to do is guess three things...the distance to safety, the distace between the next 2 approaching vehicles.....and their speeds, relative to you and relative to each other.....now you know where all the hard work u put in relative motion classes pays off......so once you have these figures with you... (good instincts will help in accuracy and ultimately saving ur life)......you can easily calculate the time you have to cross. It is vital here that you know whats ur maximum speed. otherwise.....well u know.
see, the "art" has been unveiled.
-gp
P.S: I never intended this to become a space for movie reviews, but I have to write this much. Mr RGV, you can not augment the emotions you want the audience to feel by blasting their ears off with background score. nor can a movie become intense if all the characters just look angry and give smoldering glares. And good job Mr Palekar. June 13 Bangalore - The hype, the myth and the truthDisclaimer: The following views are subject to change over time. I have completed a month in Bangalore. And I think its too early to have a final opinion on most of the things u might be expected to have an opinion of. But still I will state some of my observations on the garden city. There are no gardens. That wasn't really a surprise. I mean I wasn't expecting a lush green city with huge open spaces for trees and shrubs and other such things... considering the traffic congestion here. Now one cant just blame the roads for that....not coz there aren't any....coz its the sudden, unexpected influx of IT guys thats the cause. Who would have thought that all the geeks of the country who couldn't get good GRE scores will descend on bangalore....mistaking it for the backdoor entry to the US of A. Bangalore WILL be a mythical city. There will be books written and documentaries made. How could one unassuming....small city...the land of small aspirations and no dreams.....be compared to some of the best places in the world.....the Bay area, CA....Singapore. There will be theories and debates. Experts will argue whether its coz the MNC's ......the GE's...the Microsofts.....didn't want to beleive that a regular small town in the land of snakes and oliphants can help them save millions that their elaborate cost cutting measures and the smartest people on earth....consultants...couldn't....and hence created the myth. OR is it coz of the weather. There will be no consensus. Bangalore is a unique city. I have always used that word to define another country I have been to.....but it fits very well for bangalore also. It will have the highest percentage of educated citizens. It also has the lowest adherence to traffic rules or any laws in general. It will have the highest number of citizens who have attended team building trainings and are team leaders. It also has the lowest number of social organizations/ NGO's to force the apathetic administration out of its slumber. It probably have the highest consumption rate of alcohol...considering the number of pubs here. But people must like drinking during day....considering everything is pretty much closed by 11:00p.m. People must be crazy about movies here.....considering u cant get tickets for ANY movie for the next 3 weeks. But it also could be coz there is only 1 multiplex and couple of theatres showing Hindi and english movies. people must like staying home during weekends.....considering the traffic is much better. But it also could be coz the surrounding areas are amongst the most beautiful places I have ever seen. No wonder I am having a great time here. -GP Some tips for the fellow cricketers: The ball stops and stands up. So play late and with soft hands.
May 19 Dipper, Ninja bahadur, hero-honda and kawasakiSo I am back in India. Finally got the time and internet connection to write something. When I was about to go to Berkeley, I was repeatedly cautioned against a culture shock. Well, I guess they meant on the way back. From traffic to work.....everything is.....amusing. Infact I have this permanent amused smile on my face ever since I landed in Delhi. Things are pretty much the way they have always been. Just that people here now want to have everything. And boy.....are they working hard for that. Regarding the title of the blog.....well these were the things I heard within hours after coming back. The government is planning to launch a new condom targeted at truck drivers. So what do they call it....."dipper".....this way they will save crores on marketing it coz all trucks have it written in big bold letters.......use dipper at night. Then there is this new superhero character created by some ad company......ninja bahadur......protects a building during day and the whole city during night. and a sardarji wants to test the GK of his kid.....where did america drop the 2 atom bombs on japan.......hero honda and kawasaki is what his son replies. All I can say is that India rocks! more on India soon!! -gp April 28 blogger's block!hey u guys! (which in this case is just me).....being an amateur blogger I have faced it.....lets see.....twice already and was wondering if its common. the blogger's block. is it the 'hourglass effect'.....if any such thing exists......u know....the more things there are to write about....the longer it takes to actually think of something to write. btw....i just thought of what my next blog is going to be about......anyways....i really really want to meet one of these compulsive bloggers.......a compulsive female blogger will be even better....nothing sexist here....just that i wanna verify some of my theories. so any of you wondering souls if you are reading this and if you deem urself fit to be a compulsive blogger.....and if you are in bangalore.....please do me a favor. btw.....this can be interpreted as a way of meeting females.....which I assure you its not....or is it? -gp April 26 My first blogSo here it is. my first blog. but as most first blogs go....this is not about anything in particular. infact now i think about it....i dont have much to write right now, although I have plenty to think. and thinking I have been. about my move back to India. about the sanity of this decision. about the reasons that make me so confident of pulling this off.....hey by the way I have been watching so much cricket in the states lately that I inadvertently talk in cricketing cliches, so bear with me.....infact i have been drawing parallels between test cricket and life, even thinking of writing a book on this some day.....anyways, back to the move. well bay-area to bangalore....its not really the move, but the why? and why now? behind it. its hard to put it in words....as i have been telling all my friends who ask me why?.....why not? I should answer....is it an answer?....anyhoo......as budd says in KB2....the move. well...till now I have been occupied with selling and buying stuff and not really given it the time it deserves. and my last week here i know is gonna be.....in literary cliches.....a passing blur. so maybe on the flight. actually no. singapore air has damn good movies. but what is there to deliberate about anyways. its just a move. -gp |
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