Reason to smile

It just was so,
In her eyes, she had that look,
She did not see the drabness in front of her, she hid a smile.

While she smiled away at what she saw, nothing seemed out of place,
ordinary, very ordinary all was,
and she was looking at and away from all of it for a while.

What was it, I wondered?
Amused by something so mundane, but how?
Maybe she saw the hidden spaces, maybe she saw more colours.

It might just be that she saw time too,
Maybe she sees whats to come, what was,
And maybe she smiles, because what can be are many.

The Kodchadri Trekventure

Days after the trek I am waking upto a slow morning, an image of pure beauty flashes. 

Black rocks, lush dark green forest, water like silver falling incessantly on the rocks. As they meet, the water sculpts the rocks, and the rocks break the water into a dense mist that just hangs in the air. And through the mist is sunlight streaming through. Wherever it kisses the mist it leaves a trail of its presence for all to see.

This is the story of how I trekked to stand in this breath-taking place. I could tell you how the nine of us, the trekkers on this adventure, met and a chronological account of events, but where is the fun in that? Like all story tellers, let me start with my favourite bit.

It all ended when we got on to our respective buses and headed back to our cosy lives. Even as we said our goodbyes to each other, we were wondering when the next call of adventure would come. And the next day, as they sit at their desks staring at the monitors, for a moment they close their eyes, and they are transported back to this adventure that was. They visit their favourite moment and they smile as they open their eyes to the reality of the flickering monitor. Just a casual glance at the inbox for the next call.

On this adventure, there were nine of us. There is something amazing about that number 9. It’s the number of people apart from the driver that can fit into a rickety jeep, and still manage to reach the destination without falling off on the track. And tracks that seemed like dinosaurs had walked the mountain side, which driver casually dismissed as a good road. 9 is 3 sets of 3 girls for each tent. 9 is 4 pairs of paragliders, with one guard. Well, that is what it was, the perfect number for everything on this adventure, we loosely called a trek.

It started out innocently; even as we signed the indemnity bond we were thinking it would be just a climb here, a long walk there and some breath-taking wilderness. The bond, yes, the bond would have never prepared us for this. It lacked the phrase – “thou shall meet thy worst outdoor fear, and no animals will be harmed in this adventure”.

One thing you have to understand about Kodchadri is that it has this cloud of mist on it, in the mornings and the evenings. The mist that surrounds is actually the clouds that lay over the hills and blanket them as the hills sleep till the next sunrise. We decided to chase the sun and put the hills to sleep with the setting sun. 

This was the simple idea and with that we set out on our trek. It was an 8 km trek. We walked the country side, crops towering above our heads, fresh green plains of paddy that broke into the hills. Trees on both sides of the trail replaced the fields and the plains. All through the woods there were the funnel spiders, beautiful creatures. Soil here is red with patches of yellow like I have never seen before. The land has colour, everything is colourful and beautiful. Sun was rising and the trek left us parched. A small buttermilk stall, which also was a house that treated arca nuts was a welcome break.

After that small break, we set forth again and reached the spot that came in my dreams. After a pause here is when the real trek began. The terrain was unexpected, rocky at places, grassy at others. Dense forests gave away to the grasslands. The sun climbed and things got more adventurous. The grass lands were so steep, the trees standing on them seemed to be bent to us. Just to confirm you look away at the horizon and realize, its not the tree but the whole terrain we are standing on that is at a 60 degree slope.

We reached the peak of the first hill. After lunch here, we started the next leg of the trek. Sometimes you take the road less traveled, so instead of going over the next hill, we went around it. At this point I met my first fear, the fear of heights. This was easily an 80 degree slope with a path cut for a goat next to it. No trees no rocks around, just blades of dried grass on one side and the other had a steep fall, I would rather not describe. We got a generous drop to the temple at the Kodchadri hill’s temple. From here it was another 1.5 km trek. We raced against time to make it to the peak by sunset. At the top of this hill is a little temple. It is dedicated to the best trekker in India, Shankaracharya. Reaching here was like paying tribute to him as trekkers. He was 31 when he passed away, in the short life he had, he lived to trek. We sat where he sat and watched Kodchadri go to sleep.

We came down from the peak to the temple and watched the stars light up the night sky. The sky in the cities have just a few stars, here on the other hand, the constellations were also lost amongst the many stars. We discussed lighting bugs (I know what they are, but some people think they cause lighting) and many other interesting things about the sky here. We camped that night, probably first camp experience for most of us. 

The best adventures are always the ones with an element of surprise. Nothing gives as strong a surprise as not having it on the plan. We started the next day at the Kollur Mookambika temple. We got blessings from an elephant and a cow. When we got back to our tempo traveller, the seriousness of the day ended.

We set out for a whole new kind of adventure. And an adventure it was! We glided in the skies on parachutes manned without any controls, except the weight of the guide. He shifted his weight around to turn and sway the parachute. We were in the sky, with nothing but physics to guide us. I love physics, have faith in it, believe it completely. At this altitude though, no amount of physics and its explanations could have made me let go of the straps that tied me to the chute. I held on till my knuckles were white. Strangest thing is, all my life, I thought winds are turbulent. I was wrong. The wind is calm and amazing. Awesome! That is the word. It is awesome, because even though the straps were the only links holding me from plummeting down into water, somewhere I wanted to let go and fly. We landed. Just when my feet found the ground and got used to the 2-D space, I was crashing into the salty waves of the Arabian sea in water motorbikes at Malpe beach in Udupi. When I tried to steer the bike, it rode on water like snail with sneezing problem.

That was a topsy-turvy adventure.
On this adventure I also found my pilgrimage. On an island called St. Mary's, time is taking its own time to carve. It has rocks that look sculpted, but they are not. These were spewed up by volcanic activity long time ago. The edges are smoothed out, but the pores on these rocks tell the violent story of the volcano. The black colour of the rocks against the cream sand stand out against the green waters of the Arabian sea. On these rocks there are creatures, young corals that are opening their eyes. Slowly life will take over the bare rocks, and perhaps there is an underwater coral reef with multitude of fishes and other organisms, literally just under our feet. Yes, it is worth a pilgrimage, year after year, just to see if the corals have taken over from the sea yet.

So that was the Kodchadri Trekventure, an experience I am unlikely to forget for a long time to come.
PS: None of the photos are clicked by me. Credits go to the other 8.

Space and solitude

This space is free from bitterness.
This space is free from loneliness.
This space is free from pain from sadness.
This space is free from expectation and disappointment.
This space is mine.
This space is me.
This is my solitude.
This is my peace.

New adventure and old mates

I was looking at that cut on the backpack, and looked at the backpack itself. It is decorated with painting that look like some five year old got its hands on it, but I know when and why each one of the paintings on it came. I made them, I know when and why I made them. I made them to remind me of the great time I am having and the travels that gave me sense of adventure and awe, through which the backpack was there. Now, I can not use my backpack as the strap has come off and the zips wont come together. It made me sad to look at it. I kept trying to hold the pieces together, but all my efforts went to waste and despair hit.

Looking at my desperate attempt, my mother suggested - "Just buy a new one. Why do you carry such a dilapidated bag anyways?". How do you answer that, why do I have worn jeans, why I wont throw away the tattered floaters and why cant I buy a new backpack. In the past years I have traveled a lot, and these have accompanied me. I know them like the back of my hand, I have learnt each and every seam of the jean and it is now my second skin. My floaters now are finally adapted to my feet. And then there is my backpack. When I bought it years back the shopkeeper told me the weight limit and the sturdiness and gave a timeline till which the bag would last. The timeline passed a year back and I was happy that it had no issues. I have surpassed the weight limit and tested the bag under severe conditions. All the essential items that the bag has, is all I need to survive anywhere. I could live out of the backpack.

Now I am in a dilemma that has also caused much disturbance to me. Do I need a new bag, do I want to leave this bag? While my mothers suggestion is very logical, it makes me wonder how is it that most of the things are so replaceable now. I have hardly seen people getting things repaired. If anything is not functional people just go ahead and replace it with a new one. Have we come to a point in our lives, where it is easier to just replace non-functional entities than to try to mend the broken pieces? Does this extend beyond the material realm of things to even the relationships, career and life itself?
Each and everything is a bit more complex than before. The phone was a simpler circuit than the hidden software driven smartness of the all powerful handheld device (I cant just call it a phone anymore, it is much more). To attempt to fix it in case it ever breaks down is to undertake hell. The simple ball point pen, a refill costs as much as a new pen, but the casing is dumped. Where does it stop, does it even stop? If a relationship breaks, will you replace the person in your life?

I am afraid to know the answer. But today I am not willing to let go of my bag. I will make an honest attempt at mending it. And guess what, in the remote corner of the locality I live in, I found a little shop.

She repaired it, and now it feels better than before. I am now ready for a new adventure with my old mates.

Invasion of stinky-diaper aliens

I log in to the social scene accessible from facebook, what do I see? A load of photos of engagements, marriages, kids. Then it gets worse, once there are kids, even the photo of the kid burping is put up with grinning parents with the kid. While most of the travel, meeting and other normal pre-married life photos make sense to me, the kid scene is a bit much to handle.
I truly wonder if all the little bags of goo and drool are not just alien invasion that changed my otherwise sensible friends to a mass of mush! I feel lucky that the couples still keep some details to themselves, like the date and method of conception and the first poop colour. Other than that, almost everything is on social network. I dont know if they expect us to involve us into their lives or are just sharing the moments. I wonder what the pre-FB parents did to share these joyful to them, pain to others moments. Maybe they had secret societies where they met and then told the little details to each others. Maybe the other friends like me who have no inkling in appreciating a foot long, semi-human who is not even familiar to them, are supposed to keep out of this zone. I have full speech faculty and watching someone choke on words is a comedy at times, so, someone who cant speak is a mystery and an object of no interest to me. Their first words or the first steps and other first things must be very interesting to psychologists, biologists and other scientists interested in studying development and behaviour. On the other hand for a commoner like me, it holds no interest at all.
Worst yet is the part where you have to participate in the little ceremonies and be a part of their naming, birth and first year birthdays. Unfortunately these are a must social scene, else it means alienating yourself from your close friends from the pre-baby era.
Then, while these thoughts hog your mind, you just glance at this one picture. The picture where your friend is holding an alien lifeform, and for some reason the friend looks like they are in absolute bliss. You have seen this friend through absolute patches in life, you have made a joker out of yourself just for a twist in the lips that resembles a smile. You then realize, what the friend needed was just this little alien lifeform, to bring that heartwarming smile. If it is worth that smile, then this speech deficient, mass of muscles and fluids, stinky-diaper alien is absolutely precious.
At this point I pick up the phone and call the friend and ask how the bundle of joy is. As it truly is a bundle of joy, especially for the friend, and listening to the excitement in the friends voice gives me joy too. All I can hope at this point is may you and your family smile like this at all times.

Dedicating to all my friends new to parenting.

Name of fear , wings of dreams

I am not a religious person, but I cannot describe the overwhelming feeling I feel when I walk into any place of worship. I see people with hope without hope, with fear, with love all walking into the temples. Some have tears in their eyes and some just love the God, they are worshiping. I feel small, I feel insignificant. All the pain I have fades and feels insignificant in front of all the troubles of people around me.
They are regular folk, walking besides me and talking besides me, laughing and chatting, but here they shed their masks and speak the truth. They accept and acknowledge their sadness, desires, wants and needs. They pray for themselves, for their loved ones, for everyone or for no one. I look at them and think of a prayer, whatever whoever deserves and fights for, I hope they are able to get it. I know there is uncertainty in life, the factor that keeps us at our toes. I hope for the ones who are fighting the battles with all their might, for what they deserve most, get it.
Isn't my prayer futile; i wonder. The ones who are willing to bet it all for a dream, are the ones who do not care for the failure, they will cry for the hurt they faced, but will get up from the ground. They will nurse the wound and dust off and walk with a stance that is stronger than before. These are the people, who are not here today looking at the ground they fell upon, they are the ones staring at the stars. They are the ones that are moving the stars to makes a space for their dreams in sky.
For them it is not the name, not their name, not anyone's name that matters. They make their own labels. They make their own Gods. The rest pray those Gods that were left behind by them, they worship the inner strength of the ones who stood up.
I get off, and get out of this place. I acknowledge the ground that is under me, but I am not letting the ground hold me down, because I am discovering that I have wings. The wings of courage to wipe the tears, the courage to face the darkness inside me, to feel the moment that is as is, call what is by its name. I am calling on fear. I am calling to control it, to take spread the wings and fly. Fly into the unknown and make space in the stars for my dreams. My dreams are not of the earth, my dreams belong in the sky.

Pebble wish

It started out the way all days start, and then I saw a pebble. A smooth, simple pebble that was not from this city at all, it had the face of a pebble that had seen the wild waves that kissed it, tossed it and sculpted it into the very shape it was. Over years and years, its coarseness and rough edges had smoothed out and it had a band of contrast in it. Suddenly I had a wish to sit where the pebble had come from.

Where was it from? The  pebble was not from the ocean, no, it had a more homely character, something inland, perhaps a stream of sweet water that flows into a large river. I don't think it was the pebble's location I was thinking of, I was thinking more about where I want to be. Soaking the waves that lap me on the shore of a crystal clear stream of water, that is surrounded by a thousand birds, crickets and frogs singing in perfect harmony. I want to escape. It is just a wish, but it is still a warm wish that is making me smile.

Why should I even care, I wish a new wish everyday? That is not true is it? There is a true wish, something like a dream that is in all of us. A wish to make something impossible, possible. There are is such a wish that the thought of it brings this smile on the lips, a secret smile that escapes the lips when you least expect it, like on the bus, on the street, sometimes in the shower. Such a wish brings the possibility of a warm memory that the heart will treasure for all times from the moment it is fulfilled.

These are not the wishes that built the detailed machinery that sent men to the moon, but it is the wish of a boy, who thought he would walk on the silver dust on the moon and eat the cheese that was there. It is the wish that makes you want to take off from the ground and fly like the birds that soar the sky. When such a wish is chased, it becomes what the reality can never be.

It is not just a pebble, it is the place, the feeling and all the beauty around. This wish has stayed with me for a long time, and now it is time to fulfill it. Now time has come to find the most apt place for the pebble and sit besides it. This wish to be where the pebble was just a simple wish, so I think time has come to make the wish come true. To open the online ticket portal and escape with the pebble.