Does Justice Apply To Animals?

A single cell… The initiation of every form of life now present on earth. From a bee to a blue whale, a toad to an elephant, and a cockroach to a human being- we started out as one, genetically evolving and gradually adapting to the rapidly changing times and needs. The humans, having won the race for survival with their so called sixth sense, quickly took over the world, pushing most of the other equally important species to a small cordoned corner, destroying many others in the process. We humans have treated our fellow earthians with great disrespect, and have exposed them to grave injustice. There should be just one common law of conduct for all the species on earth, and it’s time that the animals had their share of justice too.

Poaching of animals for their skin, fur and bones is an equivalent of cold-blooded murder. But the penalty given for the murder of a human being and the murder of an innocent creature cannot be more vastly different and more unjust. According to Section 302 in India, a person who commits murder can be punishable with death or imprisonment for life, while a poacher on the other hand, is only awarded a maximum of a few years of imprisonment. It is time that the poachers around the world are made to pay up for their actions, and are forced to wipe the blood off their hands by serving a sentence that can equal the audacity of their deed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The aerodynamically gifted creatures face their share of injustice every day too. The prettier they are, the harsher is their fate- cooped inside cages, their beaks chipped off, wings clipped off and claws ripped off, peeping between the bars and looking at the uglier but luckier birds soaring in the sky with abandon. While confinement and mutilation of humans is a punishable offence, the same activities performed on birds are not only completely legitimate, but are also performed with a sense of pride, for decorating houses. Like Jacques Deval said, “God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Land, an important entity that is required by every living being to live a life of quality, is another aspect that these creatures without the sixth-sense are denied. Predators like lions and tigers mark their territories by scent marking the areas with their own characteristic scent and leaving their claw marks on the barks of the trees. Elephants are constantly on the move through the wilds, in accordance with the seasons and the availability of food and water. Birds have their own particular spots for nesting and roosting. But what have we humans done? Destroyed and occupied their habitats, and by doing so, paved the way for the extinction of various species. Corridors between the various national parks have been encroached upon, leaving migratory species, especially the elephants, exposed to the wrath of humans, as they cross our farms and homes in the course of their migration, leading to death on both sides. We desperately need to redeem these corridors, and free them of human settlements, so that these creatures can migrate in peace. Netherlands has taken a very innovative initiative to solve this problem. They have built over 600 bridges all over the country, over highways and human settlements, exclusively for the animals, successfully preventing these human-animal conflicts. Land encroachment of one human on another human’s property is never tolerated. Why should we expect the animals to tolerate this, and why should we humans who encroach, go unpunished?

The creatures closest to humans in terms of intelligence and genetic constitution- the chimpanzees and the other primates are not left alone either. Having had the misfortune of resembling us humans, they are used in laboratories and research centres to test various drugs, cosmetics and other physical and health manipulative substances. Punishments for human testing can go up to ten years of imprisonment, while animal testing is legally allowed! Just because these poor creatures do not have equivocators to twist the laws and represent their side of the case, does not mean that we can take advantage of them and use them for those demeaning activities that we cannot abject other humans to. As Charles R.Magel aptly said, “Ask the experimenters why they experiment on animals, and the answer is :’Because the animals are like us.’ Ask the experimenters why it is morally okay to experiment on animals, and the answer is: ‘Because the animals are not like us.’ Animal experimentation rests on a logical contradiction.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Having ruled the world with an iron fist ever since early man could walk on two feet, we humans have let Mother Earth down with our atrocities and our barbarity towards not only the other inhabitants of the planet, but towards our own species too. Let us learn to live in harmony with each other and with every other creature on earth. Let us not forget that we are insignificant and helpless in front of Mother Nature’s wrath and fury. Let us realise that we are all equals in the eyes of nature, and do not have the right to exploit other creature’s vulnerability. As Mahatma Gandhi said, “The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated.” Yes, it’s time that the animals had their share of justice too.

On Anticipation

“It is foolish to suffer in anticipation that which one may or may not have to suffer.” This is something that I fully comprehend, but have never been able to implement. I cannot help but make up various consequences of some small mistake of mine, in my head, each one more imaginative and having bigger repercussions than the previous ones, until I run myself into a state of frenzy. Then, no matter what my hands and mind are occupied with, this little piece of memory keeps a few of my neurons busy in the back of my head, continuously churning it round and round, making me fidgety and grouchy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It could be anything- a mistake that I make in my exam that will in reality result in me just losing a mark or two, but which will result in a sleepless night, due to my brain conjuring up various scenarios varying from me scoring the lowest amongst all my friends, to eventually, me failing in the course. Or it could be something that I happen to say in the wrong place, at the wrong time. This could of course result in so many many scenarios, depending on the number and the type of people involved. But no matter how little or big the blunder is, my brain always runs overtime, taking maximum advantage of my imagination.

The ones who really suffer from this habit of mine, apart from me of course, are my parents and my roomies.  They have to put up with my occasional cribbing when I voice out my exaggerated concerns, and have to pacify me till my qualms have been soothed. But right until the moment that the final outcome is known, they are in for a rough time. I know that this habit of mine can be really irritating at times (if not always!), but I would like to thank them for putting up with me and my exaggerated imaginations, for pacifying me when required, and for sharing the burden and admonishing me when my worrying goes out of hand. Thank you guys, for being there always!!

Though I completely understand the foolishness of this habit of mine and though I have tried my best to accept and follow the adage “There is no use crying over spilt milk”, I have never until now succeeded in following this philosophy. I only hope, that one day, even if it is far away in the future, I become one of those people who say “I am not worried about the outcome of my mistakes. What has happened, has happened. And what will happen, will happen”.

 

One year!!

It has been a whole year now, as of today, since I started blogging. I was greeted this evening, when I opened my wordpress account, with a trophy on my notification icon. It said, “Happy Anniversary! Thanks for flying with us”. A whole year. I have met great people, from all around the world; have made great friends; have been constantly encouraged and flattered; have gotten a huge boost for my self-confidence which was dwindling low around a year back. Well, here’s the story of how and why I actually start blogging:

I was asked to be a content-writer for a magazine that was a venture by one of the student chapters that I was a part of at that time. Having been encouraged by my teachers at school and by my parents, who identified my flair for writing, I was overjoyed at the opportunity and sat down to give it my best shot- to prove myself to the world. After a lot of editing and consulting with one of my friends who also has a blog, I finally came up with a small write-up (which is actually my very first blog post). I submitted the article and then eagerly waited for the next team meeting. The very next week, we had one, and I went there with a huge smile on my face. The editor gave a brief analysis of each article and praised them all. Finally, it was my turn. He looked at me, and said “Well, your article was very disappointing”. And all I could hear after that was my heart thudding in my ear- I could see his lips moving as he continued to address me, but I heard nothing. And then, my ears caught the words “grammatical mistakes” and that was the last straw. I still do not know how I kept my cool, but I somehow did, and burst out as soon as I was in the safety of my room. I decided that it was time to show him, to show the world, of what I was capable of. I decided to start my own blog.

The response I got was overwhelming, and every like and every comment on my posts healed my wounds. The blogging world had indeed become my feel-good world. It still is. I would like to celebrate the anniversary of my blog, by accepting two long pending awards that I had been nominated for.

I was nominated for the versatile blogger award, by Rebecca Fraser-Thill, an expert in career avoidance, who gives great advice for college students about career choosing and planning. I must say, that I have definitely learnt a lot from her posts. Thank you, Professor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was also nominated for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award by Mike, a brilliant writer, author of The Eye-Dancers and other books. His posts are very thought provoking, and his short stories are equally engaging too. Thank you so much for this award, Mike!!  :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For both these awards, I need to tell a few interesting things about myself. Here goes:

1. I am a very staunch vegetarian. I try convincing my friends to give up meat at every possible opportunity, much to their dismay!!
2. My bucket list is so long, that I am not sure if I will have time enough in my life to tick them all off.
3. My favourite time of the day- when I lie curled up in my bed, with a book in one hand and a bar of gooey chocolate in the other.
4. The only flavour of ice-cream that I can eat is Vanilla.
5. I have always wanted to have a dog. But having lived in an apartment that bans having pets, I have never had the chance to have one.
6. I love learning new languages, though I am very slow at picking up the words.
7. I am addicted to popcorn.

And now, the blogs I would like to nominate for the Versatile Blogger Award are:

1. http://textileranger.com

2. http://srishti25.wordpress.com/

3. http://rohan7things.wordpress.com/

4. http://thebackdoorartist.com/

5. http://travelgardeneat.com/

6. http://insearchofperfect.com/

7. http://megtraveling.com/

8. http://fictionalmachines.com/

9. http://anilcm.wordpress.com/

10. http://hillsofherchastity.wordpress.com/

 

The blogs I would like to nominate for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award are:

1. http://deborahbrasket.wordpress.com/

2. http://thepersecutionofmildreddunlap.wordpress.com/

3. http://bookquoteshub.com/

4. http://theforesterartist.com/

5. http://sdunnebacke.wordpress.com/

6. http://backthewaywecame.wordpress.com/

7. http://abcofspiritalk.wordpress.com/

8. http://wordsfallfrommyeyes.wordpress.com/

 

Thank you once again, Rebecca and Mike. It is indeed a great honour.

 

 

The Boat Ride

I climbed onto the small white boat, my legs shaking as the boat swayed and rocked with the waves. Steadying myself by grabbing a pole, I pulled myself in, scrambled over the others who had already squeezed themselves on the small benches and settled on the small prow, sitting snugly on my legs and bracing myself for the upcoming bumpy and wet journey. The sailor (if I could call him that), pushed too big a life jacket over my head, and there I sat, the sun shining brightly on me, nearly invisible under the jacket.

We were just around ten of us on the boat, and I was all alone on the pointed prow- just me, my thoughts and the waves to set the rhythm. As the motor burst into life and the boat moved forward, my body became one with the boat, swaying as it swayed and sliced the waves at the right angle. I could neither see the others sitting behind me nor hear them over the sound of the boat- I was all alone… I could see water stretching out till the blue sky merged with the bluer water, but we were never out of sight of land, as Andamans is a very closely knit archipelago. We passed by so many beautiful islands, all of which were uninhabited and clean, without the mark of Man on them. Serene beaches and coves beckoned me towards them, but I sadly did my best to ignore the calls, and satisfied myself by drinking in as many beautiful sights as I could. We were accompanied by flying fish along the way (a lifer for me), and though I kept my eyes peeled open for dolphins, we did not spot any. Too soon, we arrived at our destination- Neil island.

Having a population of just around a few hundreds, it has just one resort and one market place. After an unsatisfactory stint of snorkeling  hindered by too high a tide, we spent a quiet evening on yet another beautiful beach, watching the sun sink into the water as the sky turned from orange to pink to purple before the first star of the night peeped out. After the beautiful sunset, we went over to the market place, sampling various local snacks from the roadside stalls and feeding the extremely friendly street dogs with tit-bits.

As I lay on my bed that night, I felt my body rocking with the sensation of the boat ride still in my bones, and was gently rocked to sleep. The time spent on the boat was the defining moment of the entire trip for me.

Hello Port Blair!!

The sky as clear as a crystal, we saw small islands of various shapes and sizes, completely untouched by the destructive hand of humans, swiftly pass by beneath us, as we flew over the Bay of Bengal, on our way to Port Blair, the capital of Andaman and Nicobar islands. Too soon, we landed at the airport, too small a structure comprising just one runway and one gate to be called one. As we joined the group of people who had registered under the same travel agent as us, initial introductions were made, before we were swiftly taken to a hotel and were shown to a handsome and luxurious room(that we did not have the time to enjoy), and were asked to be ready in an hour. Freshening up as fast as we could, we went downstairs, and were immediately herded into a bus, that took us to the port.

A huge ferry, with rickety wooden benches, seating around seventy people and spewing out copious amounts of black smoke, then took us to an island about an hour’s ride away- the Viper Island. This island, named so because it was once heavily infested with vipers, one of the most venomous snakes in the world, was used by the British when they were ruling India to abandon the freedom fighters who were stirring up trouble in the main part of the country. We were accompanied by a local tourist guide who gave an excellent heart-rending performance, explaining the hardships that the brave men endured for their country and all that they had to undergo to get us the freedom that we are now taking for granted. History says that these men were mercilessly abandoned on the island, where they either slowly starved to death or worst of all, were killed by the vipers. Later, after a lot of protests against this horrible treatment, the British built a courthouse and hanging gallows, after deciding to hang the prisoners rather than banishing them to the island. These structures, which after freedom became national monuments, unfortunately were destroyed in the 2006 tsunami that affected this archipelago very badly. Now, it’s just the skeletons of these buildings that still stand as silent witnesses to this sorry tale.

The Hanging Gallows…

The heart rending speech…

Back on the ferry and back to Port Blair, we next went to the cellular jail, once again built in the period of the East India Company, to torture freedom fighters. Here, they were subjected to a punishment called the kala pani punishment, literally translated as ‘black water’, which denoted solitary treatment. A lot of brave men lost their mind and body in this prison, where they were put to extreme torture. The prisoners were made to perform menial tasks, were set unreachable targets to achieve, and when failed, were put to torture. We attended the sound and light show in the main courtyard of the prison, where they explained the complete history of the prison in detail with brilliant light and sound effects that actually transported you to the torture chamber.

The Cellular Jail…

The room where it all ended…

A little shaken with the cruelty, while at the same time proud of my ancestors who had fought and endured so much for our freedom, we went back to the room, tired to the bones, every part of our bodies crying for some rest. We hit the bed as soon as we had dinner, moaning about the fact that we had just a few hours of sleep to catch before we hit the sea again, but looking forward to seeing more of what this beautiful archipelago had to offer us.

Agony of a Bookaholic!!

You know what the most cruel thing in this world is? Making a person study for, and write an exam when there is a new book, waiting to be opened and devoured. And if this book happens to be the one that you have been eagerly waiting for, I can only say that it is pure agony. The book, lying in all its glory on the table, tempts and pulls you towards it, in not so subtle a manner. You try resisting it with all your might, but fail miserably. You end up pacifying yourself by reading one page at a time, as a reward for every page you finish in your subject text, and finally, screw up your exam, and also lose the joy and pleasure of reading the book.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would say that the best way to prevent this situation from arising would be to ask someone to hide the book from you until the exams get over. So this way, you get to do your exams well, and you also enjoy reading the book, cause then you will be doing so without any guilty conscience pricking your mind. But also make sure that you keep your ears pricked and every time you hear a whiff about the book, put your fingers in your ears and sing at the top of your voice!!

A Whole New World

Colours of unimaginable shades, geometrically impossible shapes, a hoard of lifers at one go. In a world whose language is silence, I swam my way through, breathing through my mouth and gripping the guard which was the only source of air tighter and tighter as time went by. All I could hear was my breath- in and out like clockwork, like they had taught us. Another tick on my bucket list- deep sea diving (in Andaman and Nicobar islands). It was more than I had anticipated, it exceeded expectations

We went in as a team of ten, all of us from the same tour package, and all familiar faces. After around an hour of training which involved using the equipment, breathing comfortably and basic techniques like removing water that might enter your goggles when under water, and also learning the various signals to be used to convey certain messages, we were taken down into the unknown, each one of us accompanied by an instructor who was to lead us through the trip.

Training above water…

As he finally turned me upside down and pulled me away from the surface, I took my first glimpse at a world that I had never before seen. And was it different!! Everything around me existed in a harmony so fragrant that it seemed to gratify the eye without arresting it. Eels, black as polish peeped out of corals, clamps of various colours breathed as the soft flesh between the two hard shells quivered ecstatically. Fish of various colours and sizes swam all around me, adorned with a classic dignity that was more an emanation than an attribute.

I found Nemo!!

After about quarter of an hour, my teeth started to ache with gripping the guard so tightly, and my lungs ached for a fresh breath of air that was not compressed in a cylinder. I felt my ears popping and looked up to see the surface getting closer and closer. As we broke the surface, I thankfully gulped in a mouthful of fresh oxygen, glad to finally be out in open air, but extremely dejected at leaving the unknown world so completely unexplored. The millions of things that I had not been able to see beckoned to me, but I had to push on towards the shore, hardly able to feel my teeth and gums.

This hour of my life will always remind me of how insignificant we actually are in this world, and of how intricate and delicate everything is in Nature. It also gave me a new addition to my bucket list- to get a PADI certificate, which is a certificate that is given to professional scuba divers and I have sworn to tick this off my list as soon as I graduate.

As Tec Clark sums it up beautifully,“Scuba diving is sensual. To breathe underwater is one of the most fascinating and peculiar sensations imaginable. Breathing becomes a rhythmic melody of inhalations and exhalations. The cracks and pops of fish and crustaceans harmonize with the rhythmic chiming of the bubbles as you exhale. Soon, lungs act as bellows, controlling your buoyancy as you achieve weightlessness. And, as in your dreams, you are flying. Combine these otherworldly stimuli and you surrender completely to the sanctuary of the underwater world”.

Life’s unfair!!

Life can be extremely iniquitous. Just when you think that all is right and that you are heading in the right direction, it drops a huge bomb right in the middle of the road, pushing you into the darkness, as you plummet down into the depths of rubble and confusion. Not knowing the way up, you struggle till you are foundered deeper in the mess. You then realize that you have got to sit low, stranded, for a while, till the dust settles down- till you can collect your gatherings, till you are strong enough to wipe your tears off your cheeks and look around for that ray of light that will lead you back to the point where you left the right track.

Going up, though, is never easy. You have to struggle your way through the tightly wedged rubble, gritting your teeth and bruising your skin all the way up. But once you are back on the right track, there is no looking back. Just the scars of the battle remain, that will remind you of your victory- the scars which will give your self-esteem and your self-confidence a huge boost when you are at the bottom of life’s next pit of darkness. “The pain you feel today is the strength you feel tomorrow. For every challenge encountered, there is an opportunity for growth.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh yes, life is definitely unfair, catching you unawares most of the times and destroying your conviction in true happiness periodically. But then, what is life without its ups and downs, its struggles and victories to keep you entertained in the long run? What is life without these that test your strength, your perseverance and your will to succeed?

How you face the fall determines who you actually are- without sacrificing your integrity, your ego and your self-respect. Never losing your self and your soul along the way. Never living within others, never living second-handed.

My Faithful Companion

Dogs, cats, guinea pigs, horses, mice and even tarantulas are the beings that flash across your mind when you hear the words ‘faithful companions’. But my faithful companion is someone who has been with me ever since the day I was born, and will be by my side till the day I leave this world for good. Soft and white, with a faint smile always playing on her lips, a pink button nose, and black enchanting eyes that catch everyone who looks into them unawares, and puts them under her spell. Meet Pinky, my bunny soft toy- my companion for life.

My Pinky!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She was a gift from my mom’s friend- a gift she gave to the newly born me, little knowing that she was actually giving me something that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Though she was snowy white when I first got her (she is now a little grey with age), the name ‘Pinky’ stuck to her right from the very beginning. I could never go to sleep without her by my side, and neither can I now. She always tops my “things to take” and has a permanent corner in my backpack while travelling. Kabini, Ranathambore, Kanha, Bandhavgarh, Gir, Bandipura, Kaziranga, Corbett, Sikkim, Ladakh, and most recently, andamans- she has seen them all!!

Having decided to stay in a hostel during my under graduation, I was extremely nervous to bring Pinky out in the open, as I feared that the girls whom I was to share a room with would not understand the relationship I had with this ball of wool with eyes and ears. But my fear was in vain. One of the girls brought her white teddy, ‘Whitey’ with her, and soon another roomie of mine got herself a brown teddy, ‘Brownie’!! So there they are, Pinky, the oldest member of the group, and Whitey and Brownie- giving each other company when we are away and busy with classes.

Through thick and thin, through ups and downs, through joy and sorrow- Pinky has been with me through it all. She knows my heart inside out, and knows my deepest desires and my darkest fears. She will forever be my faithful companion, giving me strength in her own quiet way- by always being there for me.

Gratitude…

After a refreshing month, spent in the company of my books and family, away from the clutches of the cyber world, it is indeed good to be back again… Back to the family of bloggers that I have missed. As the first post of this new year, I would like to thank all the bloggers who have been a part of this journey of mine, right from when I first entered this blogging community six months back, happy to have found a platform to showcase my articles in. I would like to thank you all for your constant encouragement, which spurred me on to write more and better. And so, I would like to repay you for the kindness that you have shown me, and for readily accepting me as a part of your community…

Though too late now, I would like to thank Manu Kurup, a wonderful photographer who blogs at StarScrutiny, for nominating me for the “ Blog of the Year- 2012” award.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I would also like to thank Snigdha, who has a very informative and interesting travel bog, for nominating me for “The Illuminating Blogger Award”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rules of the award are:

1  Visit and thank the blogger who nominated you

2  Acknowledge that blogger on your blog and link back 

3  Share a random thing about yourself:

                      I have always wanted to attend Michael Jackson’s live concert… But sadly, that wish of mine will never be fulfilled…

4  Select 5 or more nominees for the award, a link to their blogs in your post, and notify them on their blogs – My 5 nominations are:

• http://bookquoteshub.com
  
• http://attilaovari.com
• http://backthewaywecame.wordpress.com
• http://addgrainonearth.com
• http://snapflycook.wordpress.com
• http://exxtracts.wordpress.com
• http://hillsofherchastity.wordpress.com

 

Next, I would like to thank Anil Cm, also a wonderful photographer who takes us along with him on his travels through his beautiful pictures, for nominating me for the “Very Inspiring Blogger Award”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rules of the award are,

1. Display the award logo on your blog

2. Link back to the person who nominated you

3. State 7 things about yourself :

• I am currently pursuing my under graduation in Computer Science Engineering, in India.
• My aim in life is to visit every nook and corner of the world before all the beauty is destroyed by mankind.
• Ever since I did scuba diving last month, I have been wanting to get a PADI certificate!!
• Buying new books and setting my hands on them is my personal favourite drug.
• I am excessively possessive of the things I love, which unfortunately includes a few human beings too!!
• I am addicted to my mobile phone, like every teenager now!!
• The blogging world has definitely opened a lot of horizons for me, and made me a better person as a whole.

4. Nominate other bloggers for this award and link to them.

• http://getsetandgo.wordpress.com
  
• http://cristimoise.wordpress.com
• http://rohan7things.wordpress.com
• http://sdunnebacke.wordpress.com
• http://travelgardeneat.com
• http://sharechair.wordpress.com
• http://readinginterrupted.com
• http://nitzus.com
• http://insearchofperfect.com
• http://foresterartist.wordpress.com
• http://theurgetowander.com
• http://johndwmacdonald.com

 

Finally, I would like to thank Kat B, who has a wonderfully illustrated and informative blog, for nominating me for the “Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rules for receiving this award are as follows.

1. Provide a link and thank the blogger who nominated you for this award.
2. Answer 10 questions.

The Questions to be answered:

• Your favorite color?  Black
• Your favorite animal?  Elephants
• Your favorite non-alcoholic drink?  Ice tea
• Facebook or Twitter?  Facebook.
• Your favorite pattern?  Anything that has small flowers in it.
• Do you prefer getting or giving presents?  Giving presents.
• Your favorite number?  7
• Your favorite day of the week?  Obviously, Friday (I can look forward lazily towards the weekend)!!
• Your favorite flower?  Water lily
• What is your passion?  Books, Travel and Music.

3.Provide links to these nominated blogs and kindly let the recipients know that they have been nominated.
4.Include the award logo within your blog post.

5.Nominate 10-12 blogs that you find a joy to read.

• http://godguidesme.com
• http://blog.mitziemee.com
• http://thewhyaboutthis.com
• http://seyisandradavid.org
• http://thebackdoorartist.com
• http://onthegowithlynne.wordpress.com
• http://textileranger.com
• http://singingsparrows.wordpress.com
• http://lifeofbun.com
• http://alarnarosegray.com
• http://sandylikeabeach.wordpress.com
• http://clanmother.com

Thank you all once again, and wishing you a very happy and prosperous new year!!

Off Again!!

The previous month dragged on with exams written all over it. I have been as busy as a bee with my books and presentations and projects, pushed away from the blogging network and I apologize for all the late responses. And now, stretching in front of me, is one whole month of bliss… One month filled with books and cushions and beds and… Beaches!! Yes, I am off to the Andaman islands today!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An archipelago, situated in the Bay of Bengal, a few hundred kilometers off the shores of the main body of India, Andaman and Nicobar islands is one of the seven union territories of India. Known for its serene beaches and water sports, this holiday is truly going to be a holiday, for a change. No getting up when the world is still dark outside, no shivering in the open jeeps on the lookout for mammals and birds… It is just going to be a relaxing holiday, reading books on hammocks on the sea shore, snorkeling, and getting burnt by the sun.

Well, having never really been on a holiday such as this before, I sure am going to miss all the adrenalin pumping excitement that only the forests can incite in me. The fresh air filled heavily with untouched undergrowths and the variety of sounds that hit your eardrum. Though the Andaman islands are known for their flora and fauna too, I am sure it will not be the same. But I am going with an open mind, armed with “Gone With The Wind” by Margaret Mitchell, and “My Family and Other Animals” by Gerald Durrell, to keep me company if the day becomes dull, with no promising action.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But, in spite of all my trepidation, this is going to be my first real visit to the sea-side, and I am really excited about this get away… Will be back soon with a whole set of posts about my first ever trip of this kind…

Reading to my heart’s content

What with exams stretching out in front of me for the next two weeks and with friends scurrying about and searching for quite corners to cram things into their brains in the last-minute, I am left to my own books and methods of recreations…

Cruising through Twitter with nothing better to do (I left all the good books at home to avoid getting distracted!!), I chanced upon this beautiful piece by Jeff O’Neal, who is the editor of Book Riot.

I am sure that you will all enjoy reading this, and will nod your heads, with a faint smile dancing on your lips at the end of every line, just like I did…

There’s a lot I love about reading. Here are a few things for which I am especially grateful:

 

 

 

 

 

 

deckled edges

finishing a book just as the train pulls into the station

seeing someone reading a favorite book in public

a good beginning

a better ending

a mysterious, wistful inscription in a used book

re-reading a favorite and still agreeing with the notes you made in the margins

re-reading an old favorite and shaking your head at how naive you were

french flaps

when the coffee is ready and the light is good and the weather drizzly and there’s nothing to do but read

a bustling bookstore in full holiday swing

acknowledgments that are honest, funny, and humble

remembering and using something you learned in English class

forgetting to bring a book for the plane but then seeing something you really want to read in the airport bookstore

seeing something in your daily life that reminds you of something you’ve read

picking up a classic you’ve been avoiding and loving it

realizing that there are no rules about reading and that no one has the answers

seeing a “notes on the typeface” at the end of a book

knowing that no matter how bad the last book you read was, the next one could be your new favorite…

RIP Twitter…

 She was black and small. Unbelievably small. Tiny wings with bones sticking out and little claws with soft nails that would grow to become razor sharp ones, ready to grab its prey. She was a bat. And a very small one at that.

We had no idea what kind of bat she was, what her diet was, or what kind of life she led or whether she was a female or a male!!(But I will go with ‘she’ here, because I am definitely what you would call, a feminist). But one thing we were sure about was that, she needed our help. We found her abandoned in our school, on the staircase leading up to our classroom, in danger of being trampled to death. Spotted and rescued by one of my friends, who was luckily the first to arrive at school that morning, he put her in a small petri-dish that he borrowed from the biology lab, and even lined it with cotton for better comfort, and put her in a dark closet in the lab. He took us to meet her as soon as we came into the classroom. It was love at first sight for all of us. We assumed that she had fallen off her mom’s back when they were out flying the previous night, and had lain there, helpless and broken, since. We christened her Twitter.

Though not Twitter, she looked exactly like this little one here!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Throughout the day, we pampered her, taking it in turns to try and feed her some milk (that we assumed was her diet), and stayed by her side during all our breaks. As the day approached an end, we realised that we could not leave her at school, all alone again. There were lots of stray cats and dogs on the prowl and we did not want to take a chance. Luckily, one of my friends agreed to take Twitter home for the night. We were completely in the dark as to how to take care of her, what to feed her and how to make her condition better. Having no professional help at hand, we relied completely on Google and its suggestions of how to take care of a baby bat. But the things that showed up under the ‘what to feed section’ was too un-kosher for our liking. One of the suggestions was to cut out the head of an earthworm, and let the little one lick up (or rather, slurp) the flesh inside. Like I said, too un-kosher.

The next day was my turn to have her for the night. I brought her home in a little box that my friend had fashioned for Twitter’s comfort. She was asleep throughout the day. The only thing that indicated that she was still alive was the heaving of her little body, as she breathed in and out peacefully. As dusk approached, she started kicking about and moving around. My mom fished for an ink-filler to feed Twitter with, while I rigged up a mixture of mashed banana and milk. To our surprise, Twitter gobbled up a considerable amount of the mixture, and then, the games began. She climbed up and down my arm, her for-now soft fore-claws that are attached to the wings, digging into my skin for hold. I kept shifting her from one arm to another, as she tirelessly walked up and down. This went on for a taxingly long time, before she was finally exhausted, and went to sleep on my palm. Transferring her gently into her box, I kept her in our dark closet for the night, away from light and sound.

The little one finally off to sleep…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Early the next morning, my father, who is always the first to wake up, found her in front of the washing machine!! My Twitter had tried her hand at flying (or so I guessed)!! Transferring her gently into her box, I took her back to school. It was the 14^th of November, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru’s birthday, which is celebrated as Children’s day in India, after his love for children. There were celebrations going on at school, and we left twitter under my desk, in the corner. Coming back after a merry hour of dancing and singing, it was one of my friends who first noticed that something was wrong with Twitter. Crowding around her little box, we stood there helpless, fluttering to do something to save Twitter, as she lay there, her breathing troubled. But alas, all we could do was stroke her gently as she breathed her way to her end. We couldn’t take it anymore. My friend and I rushed to the washroom, clinging onto each other for support, wetting each others shoulders. My friend, who first found Twitter on the staircase, meanwhile, buried her in her little box, in our school garden.

I am reminded of her little presence and her lithe body, as she moved up and down my hands, every time I see a bat swoop to hunt in the dark, every time somebody even mentions the word ‘bat’.

Rest in peace, Twitter.  Though we knew you for a mere two days, you will always live on in our hearts.

The King’s Blessing

It was in the May of 2008, in Gir Wildlife Sanctuary- the only place in the world where you can still see Asiatic lions in the wild. The sun was on its way to light up the other half of the world, and we were driving back to the camp, tired, but deeply contended, after spending a long evening filming a pride of lions. We were slumped in our seats, drinking in the dusky air of the wilderness; our eyes half closed, enveloped by the tumultuous chirruping of the birds on their way to roost, when suddenly, our jeep came to a jolting halt.

And there he was, right in the middle of the road. Big and huge, with his head held high and tossing his freshly shampooed mane, walking right at us with royal bearing. We had stopped our jeep on a very narrow one-vehicle bridge, over a dry river bed, and there was barely enough space for a bicycle to pass by on either sides. As he closed in, I loosened my monopod’s screw to turn the camera when he turned and walked into the under growths on one of the sides. But he kept coming towards us, straight on. And then, he was so close, that he did not fit into my lens’ frame. I tore my eyes away from the lens and looked up, to see him brush right past my side of the jeep. He turned up his mighty head, and looked me right into the eyes. I stared into the depths of the golden orbs, and right then, right there, I felt the presence of God. I stood there transfixed. As he walked away, leaving me breathless and suffering from a mini heart attack, I looked back to see his receding behind, continuing to walk in the middle of the road, before finally disappearing around the bend…

Starting the jeep and moving forwards in silence, still not recovered from that close encounter, the jeep stopped again. And there he was, right in the middle of the road. I thought that history was repeating itself, giving me a chance to relive the moment so I could receive his blessing with more grace, and not just stand there like a mannequin. But sadly, that was not to be. This time, we had stopped in an open area, and it was his brother that we were looking at. This royal individual, chose to walk past the other side of the jeep, giving my mom the opportunity to receive a blessing. Though he did not brush past the jeep like his brother did, he was still close enough to give us another mini heart attack. He walked away on the middle of the road too, following in his brother’s footsteps, unaware that he and his brother had left a huge impression in the lives of the three mortals in the jeep that they had casually passed by.

We were now fully awake as we continued our journey back to the camp, with the sun finally set and leaving the last golden glow in the sky. Our hearts thumping in our throats, we were bursting to communicate our feelings through words, but failed miserably. So we gave up, and let our eyes do the talking. As I reran the moment in my head, I realized just how lucky we were to have witnessed an encounter like this, and to have been so welcomed in Mother Nature’s kingdom. We had been blessed by the King.

On being chased…

A sudden charge by an elephant is bad enough. But being followed and chased by a tusker(a male elephant) for no reason at all? Well, that is something beyond my level of endurance…

It was in the year of 2009, in Kabini National Park, India. Standing amidst a cluster of gypsies and peering through the lens, hoping to capture some decent footage of a leopard sitting far far away on a branch of an incredibly tall tree, I was the first one to spot the tusker, walking with purpose around the bend, towards us. We assumed that he would go on his way quietly, but we could not have been more incorrect. It was a thoroughly bored tusker that we were looking at, and he was definitely not going to walk past such a readily waiting source of distraction just like that. I remember reading in Kobie Kruger’s ‘The Wilderness Family’ (a must read for everyone with a heart), about how tuskers, who live in isolation, often get very bored. They turn to the only other things in the wilderness that are of comparable size to them- the tourist jeeps, for some distraction and entertainment.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He walked right at us, and forced us to reverse. Seeing us back off, he walked towards another jeep, and forced them to back off too. He continued doing this with all the jeeps there, and as the tusker got bored with one particular jeep and moved on to the next one, the jeep rushed back to its spot from where they could continue shooting the leopard. In short, it was a complete pandemonium. There were tyres and bumpers and tusks all over the place. And once, I must tell you, when it was our turn to be the guinea pig, he almost gave the vehicle a pat with his trunk!! That was the last straw. I sternly told my dad that a picture of a leopard that was so far away that people would have difficulty in spotting it in the picture, in spite of the huge lens that he had, was definitely not worth the emotional trauma that I was going through. Finally, we vacated the spot, leaving the other jeeps to their fate.

Driving back through the same route late in the evening after an otherwise uneventful trip, we saw the same guy standing in the middle of the road. And this time, he was irritated… Really irritated with the way that we jeeps had treated him. We stopped a few hundred feet away, and waited to see his reaction. Almost immediately, we were joined by another canter which was making its way back to the camp as well. He started walking towards us, slowly at first, and then faster as the distance narrowed. Just as he was about to hit us, our driver swerved the jeep into a small opening in the undergrowth off the road, drove around the tusker, and stepped on the accelerator as hard as he could. The tusker, not expecting this, charged at the poor canter, trumpeting with all his might. We drove as far away from the tusker, as fast as we could, followed closely by the canter with its very shaken tourists.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Turning back, I saw him standing still, swinging his trunk back and forth, with what I would like to think was amusement, and a little bit of sadness at losing his playmates, twinkling in his eyes…

Zzzzz….

Sleep- That time of the day when your brain has nothing to do but keep the vital organs going, and most importantly, your heart has nothing to do but pump blood into your veins. That time when your sorrows and your frustrations lay forgotten, and your brow ceases to frown. That time when you finally take off the burdens weighing you down, from your shoulders, and let your muscles relax. That time when you can finally escape to the place of your dreams, where only the things in your dreams come true, literally.

The few hours that keep you from the agony of your losses and failures. The few hours that will keep you going even when you feel that you are done for. The few hours that will instantly bring out the brighter side of your life, and the world in general.  Like Shakespeare said in Macbeth,

“the innocent sleep,
Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleeve of care,
The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast.”

Well, he got it all in just those few lines!

To come back to my room after a long, weary day, as each part of my body rebels with each step that I tread; to see my bed in the middle of my room, lying there in all its glory, waiting for me with its arms wide open; to sink into the mattress, let my head rest on the fluffy pillow and hug Pinky tightly, as I finally close my eyes and escape into oblivion… I look forward to this moment every single day!!

One more!!

The blogging community that I have become a part of, quite recently, has welcomed me with open arms, and has given me a lot of warmth and kindness. I have made a horde of new friends, and have learnt a little from every single blog that I have visited. The blogging world has now become the door to my escape from reality, when situations become too overpowering.

I was delighted when I saw that I had been nominated for yet another award, The Beautiful Blogger Award, by Kat.B, a very dynamic person whose love for life is very infectious. Her emphasis on the fact that life should be chewed and cherished, and not swallowed in one go, is something that everyone must learn to do in life.

 

 

 

 

 

Here are the rules for the award:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you. 
   
2. Attach the award to your site. 
   
3. Share 7 random facts about you. 
   
4. Nominate 15 bloggers for the Beautiful Blogger Award.

Seven random facts about me are:

1. I always come up with the idea for my next post when having a long, hot bath.

2. I love the aroma of freshly printed books and the feel of their crisp pages.

3. My dream is to one day own a HUGE library, which will have all the books that were ever written, and a hammock in the middle, where I can read in peace all day long.

4. I hate watching movies based on books that I have read, because they hamper the images that I had framed in my mind while  reading the book, and hence leaving my brain clustered with mixed images.

5. Saying that sports and I are like chalk and cheese, would be an understatement!!

6. I have a soft toy (a rabbit) named Pinky, who has been with me right from the day I was born. I cannot sleep without her by my side, and she has been with me on all the trips that I have made so far.

7. I have always wanted to learn horse riding, and I hope that this wish of mine is fulfilled in the near future!!

The bloggers that I nominate are:

1. The Poet Warrior: A very inspiring and a thought provocative blog.

2. Sharechair: A place where you will find an answer for any query that you  have about technology, especially about Kindle and all the Apple products.

3. Chasing Art: A very pictorial travelogue, by a very lovely and innovative artist.

4. Campfire Shadows: Stories on ranches, weaved with wonderful descriptions and emotions.

5. Fictional Machines: Amazingly written and illustrated series of a plot, filled with suspense, and also other gripping short stories.

 

Thank you once again, Kat, for nominating me for this award. The blogging community has indeed been very kind to me!!

Choices…

           Things in life are never constant. Big or small, there are always a lot of decisions that you have to make, every day, every minute. Some are resolved in a snap, while the others, you try to push them away until the last moment, when it is absolutely necessary for you to move on from that crossroad. In most cases, turning back is never an option. Your life would have been entirely different if you had made just one different decision. But then, what is life if not about taking chances and making choices?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The battle between your brain and your heart, especially, is something that can never be resolved to your satisfaction. You sway like a tiny little flower caught in the fury of the hurricane- your heart fluttering to make you listen to it, as your brain fights back with reason on its side. In the battle of reason versus emotion, the emotional decision stands victorious in most cases, unless the person is extremely strong-willed. In any case, no matter which decision you take, you end up losing the battle, imagining what life would have been like if you had chosen otherwise.

Recently, I was stuck at one of these cross-roads, unable to make a decision and move forward. The more the opinions I got from the people that I trusted, the more I started oscillating- and the fact that everyone’s opinion was against mine, did not help. I wrote down all the reasons that I could think of, for standing by my option, to make sure that it was not just another ego-maniacal decision of mine to prove the others wrong. It wasn’t. I had reasons enough to satisfy me, and so, I bravely set forth in the path that I had chosen. I made the deciding phone call that very day, so as not to give myself more time to be influenced onto the other side.

As more people got to know about the step that I had voluntarily taken, they approached me, one by one, wanting to know the reason behind this “rash” decision of mine. Though I fully appreciated their concern for me and my well-being, I wished they would give me the benefit of the doubt and realize that I would not have taken such an important decision without giving it a lot of thought and that I would not have taken this step unless I had reasons enough to do so.  As they tried to convince me that my decision and its consequences were a complete web of mistakes that I had woven for myself, I felt my self-confidence shatter, a little more with every other person who came up to me.

But that night, as I curled up in my bed wetting my pillow with my silent tears, I realized that this was MY life; and the only opinion that counted was that of mine, and mine alone. I wiped my eyes dry and decided to lead the life the way I wanted to, not how the others wanted me to or thought I should. And that was when I remembered this quote that I had chanced upon years ago.

“Opinions are like feet. There are always a couple, and they always stink”

It makes total sense now…

Another Award!!

After a long day of slogging in front of the computer screen typing out long codes to solve impossible questions, and five hours of continuous lectures, I turned on my laptop hoping to find some solace in the blogging world. And I was definitely not disappointed!! My mood lightened considerably when I saw that I had been nominated for the Super-Sweet Blogging Award (love the name), by Asha Seth. She, who is also a fellow book-dragon, has a delightful blog where her love for books and life is very apparent. Thank you so much Asha, for this super sweet award!!

 

 

 

 

 

The rules are:

• Show-off the award on your blog.
• Thank the super-sweet blogger who nominated you.
• Answer five super-sweet questions about yourself.
• Nominate 13 super-sweet bloggers.

The super-sweet questions:

1. Cookies or cakes??

Definitely cakes!! Especially the fluffy white ones with dollops of freshly whipped cream smothered on them!!

2. Chocolate or vanilla??

A lot of people might not be able to comprehend this, but I am not a fan of the chocolate flavour. The only flavour of ice cream that I eat, is Vanilla, with not a hint of a topping on it. Just a teenie weenie dot of jelly or colour, and off it goes, back to the counter.

3. What is your favourite sweet treat??

I love the semiya (vermicelli) payasam that my mom makes. And of course, the white-forest pastries.

4. When do you crave for sweets the most??

Exam time!! I have seen that my level of concentration increases considerably when I am nibbling on a bar of chocolate, or anything sweet for that matter.

5. If you had a sweet nickname, what would it be??

Well, I have never really had a nickname before. But I do remember a dear fellow blogger, Vivian Vedder, calling me Alice, after the photo of me holding a rabbit in The Beginning!

I now nominate the following blogs:

1. http://godguidesme.com/

2. http://narrationsoftheheart.wordpress.com/

3. http://blog.mitziemee.com/

4. http://clowiescorner.wordpress.com/

5. http://thewhyaboutthis.com/

6. http://singingsparrows.wordpress.com/

7. http://plantbaseddietadventures.com/

8. http://stevenleocampbell.wordpress.com/

9. http://melodylowes.com/

10. http://travelculturefood.wordpress.com/

11. http://getsetandgo.wordpress.com/

12. http://textileranger.com/

13. http://nomadgrad.com/

The “Masculine” River

The searing hot sun bearing down upon us and the cold wind blowing on our faces, making us feel both hot and cold at the same time. The intense blue water and the white sand reflecting the sunlight and blinding us. A ripple here and a ripple there. It was not an ocean, it was not a sea. It was a river. And not just any river, but the Brahmaputra, also known as the Padma in Bangladesh and Tsang-Po in Tibet, its place of origin. The only river in India, that is considered to be masculine (Brahma- the Hindu God of creation, putra-son). Brahmaputra and his fresh water dolphins.

The mighty one…

Having studied about Brahmaputra all my life in geography, it was an incredible moment when I set my eyes on the river itself for the first time. The river bed was so huge and so wide, that the opposite bank was just a haze, far far away, visible clearly only when viewed through a pair of binoculars. It certainly lived up to its image of being one of the mightiest rivers in the history of mighty rivers.

We drove down to the bed of the river (yes, the bed itself!) as it was the dry season, just before the onset of the destructive floods that the river is famous for. Most of the parts were dry and sandy with sparse growth, and we zoomed forward leaving a whirlwind of sand in our wake. And there, just a little away from the shore, was anchored an old streamer. Huge and rusted in places, it had a large, open deck at the top, with a few chairs scattered around, for viewing. As they pumped the motor, the boat wheezed and coughed before finally starting with a huge roar, and chugging out copious amounts of jet black smoke. The environmental-conscious part in me protested immediately, but when I thought about the sights and lifers that were in store for me, I silently swallowed down the protest.

We chugged our way, at a really slow pace, to the spot where the dolphins are often sighted. We kept our eyes peeled to the banks, hoping against hope to spot a predator, or at least a rhino or two, but unfortunately, we had to be satisfied with just a few monkeys and langurs. Our skin had just begun to peel and protest, when the streamer jolted to a halt. It was a very short wait.

The best shot that these mammals offered!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There in the quiet, with the wind flicking the tree branches and distorting the water’s mirror, the river dolphins frolicked in the water, playing and chasing one another, offering us just fleeting glimpses of their shiny backs and their long snouts. It was a real ordeal to film and photograph them, as we did not know where they would surface next. Jumping up and going under water in just a fraction of a second, resurfacing about a hundred feet away for another fraction of a second, these cheeky little mammals led us on a wild goose chase. By noon, the sun had sucked up all our energy, and the dolphins, the little that was left. We made our way wearily back to the starting point, fully appreciating the distance that we had travelled. The banks shimmered through the heat waves and our lips steadily became blacker. Finally ashore, we jumped down from the streamer, our eyes automatically searching for the long awaited shade from the cruel sun. After a hearty and homely meal by the river, we were on our way back to our resort, on another bumpy and weary ride.

The last glimpse…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we moved away, I took one last long look at this mighty river, the provider and the destroyer, the water that is much longed for during the summers and detested during the floods, and I was just glad that I was blessed enough to have touched this holy water and to have witnessed the Gangetic dolphins at play, both things that not many people in this world can boast about…

Our Final day…

Our last day in the city of Leh dawned bright and gay; or rather, too bright and gay for our liking, as we had to sit under the scorching sun the entire day. It was the annual, auspicious day of the Hemis festival, when the monks of the Hemis monastery dance their religious “cham dance” or the mask dance, to celebrate the victory of good over evil.

The cham dance

Driving up very early to the monastery, we climbed a very steep pathway, as they stopped all the vehicles a long way down for security reasons. Reaching the monastery with wobbly legs, completely out of breath and longing for a little rest, we struggled up another flight of stairs to reach the courtyard where all the action was to take place. Finding a good place right in the front, we placed our bags there, and went to peep in at the offerings and prayers going on inside the sanctum sanctorum. It was just around eight in the morning, and the sun was already high up in the sky, curdling and literally frying our skin. To top it all, no amount of sun block seemed to work.

In just about an hour, the courtyard was overflowing with people from various corners of the world- Japanese, British, French, Dutch, Americans and of course, the pious Buddhists from India and China. The monks came out into the courtyard, after just a little delay, adorning colourful masks, and bright sequined robes that sparkled in the sun.

Staring with the dance that offered prayers to the Almighty, there were a series of dances- slow and rhythmic, the monks balancing their way through the slow beats of the drums and the cymbals. The dances, all depicting the triumph of good over evil, were based on various incidents in the Buddhist mythology. There was a dance depicting various forms of Buddha, and even a clown dance in between to lighten the mood! As the sun rose higher, the fervour with which the monks danced increased, and our skin steadily became sorer. The high altitude definitely did not make things easier- the combination of the extreme heat, the stuffy courtyard and the thin atmosphere, resulted in a blinding headache sometime towards the end.

Just when I thought that I wouldn’t be able take it anymore, the festival came to an end, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. We pushed our way through the crowd, and began our long walk down to the parking lot, cursing the sun all the way down. We drove back to Leh, stopping to have lunch (at 5pm!), at a very small and dingy place that served very homely and delicious food. Of all the places that I had eaten in on this trip, I guess this place is my personal favourite! Once in the hotel, we thankfully sank into our beds and went to sleep instantly, exhausted to the bones and not realising that that was actually our last night in the city that had given us so many wonderful memories.

My mom, dad and I

We were up at dawn the next day to catch our flight to Delhi, from the highest airport in the world!! (gosh, to think of the number of ‘the highest something in the world’ that I have seen in just eight days, in the same place!) We kept our fingers crossed, as two flights had been called off at the last moment in the last few days due to bad weather. But thankfully, it was a gloriously clear day, which offered us breathtaking views from the flight. I was glued to the window, trying to drink in all that I could of the last sight of the Himalayas.

As I watched the receding snow-capped mountain peaks that had become an integral part of the daily landscape in the last few days, I thought of all that the place had given me- the joy, the disappointments, the fears, the memories that will last for life, and of course, the roasted, dry skin and black lips.  And I knew, deep down, that this place will always mean something special to me from that moment on.

Exams- My Nemesis

Eyes red, straining as they glance at each word. Your brain whirring as it tries to cram in everything your eyes read. Your heart thudding with each passing minute, as the final hour steadily approaches. Sounds familiar? Yes, I am talking about the night before the exams. This is a phenomenon that is almost a regular one in the lives of all undergraduates, as the semester is liberally sprinkled with quizzes and CATs(Continuous assessment tests). The entire biological pattern of the students undergoes a complete change. Studying after sunset and sleeping after sunrise (or not sleeping at all). And they are here!! For the next one week…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Students walking up and down the corridors, books in hand, reading out loud, and earphones plugged tightly into their ears with the optimistic hope of keeping the din of the other voices out; students studying on the staircases, scribbling diagrams and graphs on the walls. I go to the refectory, hoping to snatch a few moments of freedom from my books, and there too, I find students with their books, drawing and writing, but this time on their plates with their spoons or fingers. And the common rooms, or the so called study rooms. Students, wanting a quiet place to study, come in numbers, leaving their rooms empty and quiet, and the study rooms noisy!!

The library, the hub of the college during exams. Students who had previously avoided the library at all costs, come running to it, in the hope of finding some peace there and of course books (for those who hadn’t even bothered to buy the books). But what with students frantically turning pages and running from one table to another and the attendants shushing the gigglers now and then, the library too becomes a noisy arena.

As I brace myself for the coming week, that is going to be filled with exams, and bid adieu to facebook and all the blogs that I follow, the creases on my forehead ease a little as I realize, that exams are definitely ventures that take a toll on even the bravest of the brave and the nerdiest of the nerds…

The Lake of Wonders

Blue, green, purple, grey and all their possible shades, changing into shades unseen with each passing second and each passing minute, as the angle of the sun changed with time; like Mother Nature had decided to create havoc with a bucketful of divine colours. It was a piece of mysterious and holy water body, where you can just about expect to see a water demon rise from within, any moment. It was Tso-Pangong, or the Pangong Lake, the highest salt water lake in the world, shared between the two mighty countries, India and China.

The lake!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On our way there, we passed through Changlangla, the second highest motor able pass in the world, and the highest that I have been to, due to the mishap at Khardungla.  Thanks to the fresh bout of black clouds, the route to the pass and the pass itself was a complete snow-field that I actually got to throw snow balls!! As we dropped down into the lower regions, we spotted marmots (huge Himalayan rodents), kijangs (Himalayan wild asses) and bharals (the mountain goats). We kept our eyes peeled out for the snow leopard, the ultimate animal to spot in the Himalayan region. But of course we did not get to see one, as you have to be personally blessed by God to even catch a glimpse of one. Just as we were approaching the lake, a sudden bend brought before us the view of the entire magnificent lake. And man, what a view it was!!

A marmot

The entire place was just a complete riot of unimaginable colours. The whole body of blue green water, snaking between the various ranges, as peaks of various shades of brown and green guarded it all. As we drove towards it and then walked to the edge, the strong wind that whistled through the ridges created ripples and sea-like waves in the water, piercing through the five layers of our clothing and chilling us to the bones instantly. And in this eerie and barren place, we stayed for a night in a tent, just a few hundred paces from the edge of the water.

The coast line, as far as we could see, was a mixture of landscapes- sandy beach on one side, steep mountains rising right from the water edge on the other, and rugged and rocky topography in the middle, where we stayed. After checking in, we made ourselves comfortable on these rocks- just the three of us with no one within hearing distance. Just us, the lake and the mountains… These few hours that we spent there are my personal favourite moments of this trip. As the wind started gaining momentum towards twilight, and we could no longer feel our fingers, we decided to get back into the tent, which was surprisingly warm though it was just a normal canvas tent with canvas flooring.

It really was cold!!

After dinner, we squeezed into the blankets, huddling close for warmth, with just the sound of the wind lulling us to sleep, when it started- loud music thumping and rattling right outside our tent. It was a gang of tourists who had come to drink and make merry on this holy land. It was after a serious argument that we managed to make them turn it off, and restored the peace and tranquillity of the place. But our memory of the stay on the shores of this lake had been tinted.

The next morning, we were up at dawn to watch the sun rise from within the bowels of the golden peaks, and cast its first rays on the magical lake. And well, it really was more than magical. We left early to try to find more marmots and kijangs, and did we find plenty!! Every hundred yards brought to us a marmot, and we had a nice time watching these little rabbit-like creatures bound and leap into their burrows.

Despite the unfortunate incident that night, the unbearable cold and the rough journey, that one day we spent next to this holy lake will always be an incredible piece of memory that I will cherish till the end…

Happy Friendship Day!!

A small room the size of a broom closet, with a single bed, a single table and a single chair. This is what I wanted my room to be like in college. This is how I wanted to live; just me, my books and my music. But then, the university brochure clearly mentioned that single rooms would not be made available for the freshers. And so, I somehow squeezed in another bed, another chair and another table into a slightly bigger room in my thoughts.

I received the shock of my life when at the time of counselling, I was told that only four and six bedded rooms were available for the girls. Being a single child and not having had to share anything, I couldn’t imagine myself sharing a room with another girl, let alone THREE other girls! But did I have a choice? With all the strength I could muster, I pacified myself with the fact that it would be just a year.

I met my roomies on my first day of the semester, each of us scrutinizing the others carefully as we had to include the rest into our private folds. It was definitely difficult in the beginning. Very difficult if you are an introvert like I am. But things gradually moved on. From being just acquaintances, to becoming friends, and finally becoming roomies in the true sense. Sharing the deepest and the darkest secrets in the death of the night. Crying and laughing together at one’s misfortunes and fortunes. Teasing and comforting each other. Giving each other strength and support. Bursting into the room, impatient to share the juicy happenings of the day. And most importantly, pooling in all the treats brought all the way from home and having midnight feasts…

But this did not happen overnight. It took a lot of fights and misunderstandings and patch-ups to get here. And I couldn’t believe my tongue, which said yes, when we decided to stick together this year too!!

Happy friendship day!! And thanks for having my back guys, always!!

One Lovely Blog Award Nomination

I was truly delighted and honoured when I was nominated for the “One Lovely Blog Award”, not just once, but twice!! A huge thanks to both the bloggers, Vivian Vedder, who has an amazing travel blog at Where God Takes Me , and J. E. Lattimer, who experiments with art and words at Arcane Arrangements and Fictional Machines respectively. Thank you so much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here are the rules for One Lovely Blog Award:

1. Thank the blogger that nominated you and provide a link.
2. List seven things about yourself.
3. Nominate 15 or so bloggers you admire.
4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know.

Seven things about me:

1. I am a very staunch vegetarian, and have tried persuading people to give up meat all my life.

2. I have learnt classical music (Carnatic) for 13 years, and have also given stage performances.

3.I have been video-graphing animals for the last seven years, while on trips into the wild with my dad.

4. It is my dream to learn to play the guitar well enough so as to be able to play the piece in Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” flawlessly!! I’ve a loooong way to go though…

5. Sports and I are a perfect example of chalk and cheese!!

6. I have always wanted to have a dog- a golden retriever named Buddy.

7. I am terrified of elephants!! (But i love them when they don’t charge)

Here are my nominations for the One Lovely Blog Award:

http://zentcreativeblog.com

http://onthegowithlynne.wordpress.com

http://alarnarosegray.wordpress.com

http://readinginterrupted.com

http://sriramjanak.wordpress.com

http://travelculturefood.wordpress.com

http://shalvikap.wordpress.com

http://jdgallagher.wordpress.com

http://thenorthedge.wordpress.com

http://rumpydog.com

http://sixpuns.com

http://insearchofperfect.com

Thank you once again!!

Up High… And Down Low!!

Rain! And not just any rain, torrential rain! The sky was laden with dark, angry clouds, which were growling and thundering menacingly, threatening to stay put. I remember admiring the twinkling stars just the night before- the sky spotless and inky blue, the Milky Way crystal clear in the thin atmosphere of the high altitude. And overnight, this army of clouds had come swarming up from nowhere.

It was the day scheduled for the visit to Khardungla, the highest motor able pass in the world- the pass where there had been a landslide just a few weeks before our visit there, blocking around 400 tourists from the cities on either sides and forcing the army to execute a rescue mission. We stayed put in the hotel’s lobby, crossing all the fingers and toes we owned, hoping against hope that the warmth of the sun would finally win the battle against these black tufts of vapour.

A bleak ray of sunlight finally broke loose through the layer of the closely woven clouds, and in a wink, we were on the road… Driving on the highest motor able road in the world. Halfway there, we were stopped at a small army camp, South Pullu. There was a landslide just a few kilometres ahead, and the BRO (Border Roads Organisation) was trying to clear it up. All that rain and sleet had loosened the rocks on the surface, and was causing landslides everywhere, making it very dangerous for the vehicles on the road. We waited there for the path to be cleared, when… It started snowing!!

South Pullu

My first ever experience of a snowfall. Small blocks and cubes of ice, hitting everything under its spread, settling on the various exposed surfaces, till the world turned white in just a matter of minutes. It was just so exciting to sit inside the car, dressed cosily in four layers of clothes, watching the world outside freeze. But the adrenalin rush that the snowfall caused was soon neutralized by the news that we would not be able to go on further, as it was too big a risk to take. Disheartened from not being fortunate enough to visit the world’s highest motor able pass, we crawled through the now dense fog, which covered the narrow road and the abyss beyond. We spotted a lot of pieces of rock that had rolled down the slopes, onto the road, and just thanked God that we weren’t hit by any.

Snowfall!!

After a huge meal in a nice little garden restaurant, to make up for our downcast hearts, we decided to pay a visit to the Alchi monastery that evening. Of all the monasteries that I have visited, this is the oldest and the purest- Purest because it is completely untouched. Built around a thousand years back (A.D.1000), not a single drop of recent paint has touched the walls since the time that they were built. Though the landscaping around the six temples there is very modern, with nice little gardens and smooth lawns, the inner sanctum of the deities are untouched.

At Alchi…

Paint peeling, and the walls eroded so much in some places that you cannot really make out the shape of the frescos, it is a very peaceful place, which literally transports you back a few centuries. If you really explore all the corners, there are a lot of hidden small caverns, where if you squeeze your head through, you will see a huge opening on the other side. These are the actual caves in which the various Buddhist saints sat meditating. I was really taken aback when I looked into the first cave, saw two huge feet, and on looking up, the sinister face of an 18 feet tall Padmasambhava growling down at me!!

On our way out, we met a very old lady, who was sitting on the side wall and saying her beads. She beckoned to me, and asked my dad to take a photo of us together. She was then so excited when she saw her own self in the camera, that she said a string of sentences in Ladakhi, bumped her head on mine as a symbol of blessing, and disappeared. We looked all around, but she had slipped quietly into some alley or the other.

The woman who blessed me…

Having no place to stay now, as we were supposed to spend that night at Nubra valley, a place beyond Khardungla, we waited with our fingers crossed to get some accommodation. Two of the flights from Leh that morning had also been cancelled due to the bad weather, leaving a lot of other people stranded in the city. Finally, we were put up in the same hotel that we had stayed the previous night, in one of the spare rooms that they had. Though exhausted and disappointed at our bad luck, the charm of Alchi had taken away most of the wrinkles of worry from our foreheads, and the thought of the snowfall slowly lulled me into a deep slumber…

A Day in Leh…

Mounds of yellow sand- sand the colour of the moon. Craters and holes everywhere, like there had been a volley of asteroid hits there centuries back. It was a very eerie place- Lamayuru, the moon land. The landscape of the moon on one side, and the rugged landscape of Ladakh with sparse greenery on the other. All under a very blue sky and blindingly bright sunlight. It sent a shiver down my back.

Lamayuru

Just beyond this unnatural place was a monastery, the Lamayuru monastery. This 18^th century monastery was nothing out of the ordinary but for its thanka painting that was over five storeys tall and wide, and which was put on display only on auspicious days. We had to go back disappointed, as the day we had chosen to visit was not an auspicious one.

Monastry frescos…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the way back, we stopped at the extraordinary magnetic hill. It is supposed to create a magnetic field around it, strong enough to pull automobiles, and even cause disturbance to planes and choppers flying over it. Not completely believing what I had read about it on the internet, I went there, a little apprehensive, not knowing what to expect. Our driver stopped at a line drawn on the road, switched off the engine, and released the brake. And voila!! The car started moving on its own, towards the hill!! And believe me when I say that it was a completely flat surface, no inclination.

Magnetic Hill!!

After that unexpected ride that cost us no petrol, we paid a visit to a Gurudwara (the holy shrine for the Sikhs) there- Gurudwara Pathar Sahib. Legend has it, that Guru Nanak came to that place to meditate, and chase away a demon who was torturing the villagers there, by having one human for his meal every day. On seeing Guru Nanak meditating quietly on the shores of the river Indus, the furious demon threw a huge boulder at him. But the boulder, on touching Guru Nanak, turned into a wax like substance, and took his shape, without hurting him. On seeing this and realising that Guru Nanak, was a man of God, the demon immediately begged for forgiveness, and repented his sins by being of service to the same villagers that he had tortured. This Gurudwara, built at the place of this incident, holds the boulder of interest.

The boulder…

When there, we first had wash our feet and hands in a pool of freezing cold water, to cleanse ourselves before entering the divine shrine. We also had to cover our heads with a bandana, to leave behind the pride, and enter with an open heart and mind, fully capable to receive the blessings of the almighty.

It was a long day, and we were tired of walking and climbing, tired from panting for air in the thin atmosphere. The trip had just begun, and we were already tired to our bones, longing for a good night’s sleep. But the days were just getting tougher and the nights shorter- just time enough to snatch a few hours of sleep, and move on to what this land of God had to offer us next…

A Tiresome Journey…

My 18^th birthday dawned bright and gay, with the sunlight peeping through the clouds as early as three in the morning. We had a long journey awaiting us- a very exhilarating and an exhausting journey. The road trip from Manali to Leh, Ladakh.

We were at Rohtang pass at around 8am, and it was here, on the day of my entry into adulthood, that I touched snow for the very first time in my life. To touch and feel this cold, frozen form of water, has been a dream of mine, since childhood. It could not have been fulfilled in a better way.

Ramachandra Bhaiya in Luxmi Fast food… Breakfast stop…

We spent the night in a very small town called Jispa, in a homely hotel, that was built on the banks of the Somdu River and surrounded by snow-capped mountains on all the sides. We hit the road once again at the first light of dawn. The changes in the landscape were breathtakingly fast and beautiful. Every corner, every turn and every gap had some view to offer us, that made us gasp in awe. We crossed a lot of mountain passes on the way, including Tanglangla (‘la’ in Ladakhi meaning pass), which is the second highest pass in the world.

Breakfast was a bowl of Maggi noodles in Bharathpur, where we were ushered into the cleanest roadside hotel that I have ever stepped into. With a blue tarpaulin sheet for a roof, it was run by a very obliging host, Dolma, who made us feel at home at once. We tried out Tibetian tea for the very first time (tea with yak milk, salt and butter), and though it wasn’t very appealing, it tasted like a salty soup.

Dolma’s cooking…

Driving along, as the scenery changed from snow-capped mountains, to snow fields and then finally to sand dunes, we passed through very interesting places and bridges-Zing zing bar, an area named after a faithful mountain dog who saved his master from a tiger, Whiskey bridge, Brandy bridge, weak bridges that rattled with all its might when a vehicle drove over it. As we finally entered the border of Jammu and Kashmir, we caught our first glimpse of the Indus River, one of the major rivers of India and Pakistan. The landscape there was Martian – red mountains, red sand, a small stream that ran along the road which was also red due to the sand mixed in it- travelling on that road actually gave me the goose bumps.

The Martian Landscape…

Tired to the bones, we were relieved as we were ushered into a homely hotel, into a cosy room. After a quick shower and dinner, we creeped into the bed, and were asleep before our heads touched the pillow…

The Beginning…

My trip to Ladakh, I must say, did not have a very good start. What with a sleepless night in the train, an early morning flight to Delhi that left me queasy, and a 12 hour bus journey to Manali that very night, that brought out all that I had eaten that day into a paper bag. No, it was not a very auspicious start.

We had to spend one day in Manali before leaving to Ladakh, for acclimatization, and so, we had the whole day in front of us for local sightseeing. We first went to see the famous hot springs, and were bitterly disappointed when we found that it was just an artificially collected pool of warm water, reeking with sweaty bodies. But the walk up and down proved to be quite entertaining. We met an old lady who had a rabbit with her that she lent for photographs; we had a nice time window shopping, looking at all the souvenirs on display, and of course, looking at the variety of people around us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next, we went to Solang valley, which turned out to be just another over-crowded disappointment. And then, I saw the boards offering paragliding services. After a long talk, I persuaded my dad to let me try it out, and finally, my mom, dad and I, all decided to jump the cliff!! After a long ride up the winch, and a rather tedious walk (or slide) down a very steep sandy path, we reached the launching spot. Geared up, I was tied to a professional who was to control the parachute while I enjoyed the view. As the wind blew our way, we ran towards the edge of the cliff before the wind hoisted us high up into the air. And what a sight it was!

Snow-capped mountains all around us, fir trees hugging the slopes of the valley, and the mighty Baga River flowing right below us- that is a sight that I will take to my grave. My dad however, was not lucky enough to jump, as the wind turned the wrong way, and it was time for my college registration.

Still exhilarated and giddy with the flight, I somehow managed to register for my courses. I went back to the hotel, licking my vanilla softy, finally feeling that the trip had taken a turn for the good.

Off Again!

“The land of high passes”, placed bang on the Himalayas- Ladhakh and its scenic wonders. I have been looking forward to this trip for the past few months, and finally, I’m off today!

Known for its alternate dry and green landscapes, and of course, its passes, glaciers and snow capped mountains, it is said to be a piece of heaven on earth. Driving on the highest motor able road in the world- the Khardhungla pass, camping beside the highest fresh water lake in the world-Tso Pangong, the Magnetic hill and the various monasteries, are some of the highlights of this trip. But the thing that I am really looking forward to in this trip, is the snow- that frozen form of water that I have wanted to touch and feel all my life.

Being allergic to cold, I have packed all the jackets and sweaters I own, and a lot of other stuff too, to cover various parts of my body. I will be off-grid for the next ten days, and to cap it all, I have my university course registration bang in the middle! There has also been a landslide in that area recently, leaving almost 400 people stranded. Well, all I can do is keep my fingers crossed.

It definitely sounds like a great trip, and I hope it turns out to be one too! Adios!

Hope…

When you feel that you are at your wits end… When you feel that you have to break through… When you feel like the grains of sand are slipping through your fingers… When you feel like you can no longer hold slippery lady luck… When you feel that it is time to give up… When everything you knew or thought you knew proved to be wrong…When you have lost confidence in yourself and feel that you will never be able to hold your head up high… It is then that you should remember that every trough has a crest beyond it…

 

Of Ant Bites

The ticklish tingle, the little squirm, and then the moment of agony. Sounds familiar? Of course it does. Ants, one of the species most commended for their ability to endure more than any living creature is capable of, are also very painful pests, and I must say, tormentors too!

The tormentors!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have never had a cordial relationship with this particular species because of the frequent swellings on my body, thanks to them. I have had my foot swollen like a pumpkin, making it difficult for me to waddle around. I have had a mouthful of ants (and a mouthful of bites too), when I slurped juice from a straw full of ants. But last week, one of the ants took this animosity to a whole new level. It bit me on my eyelid!

Sleeping peacefully, I was rudely awakened by a piercing pain in my eye. Feeling the crushed ant on my finger first made me think that it had bitten me in the eye, but after proper examination, I breathed a sigh of relief when I realised that the target was my eyelid, and not exactly my eye. For two whole days, I stumbled around the house with one eye permanently closed by the swollen eyelid, hiding from everyone and everything, sleeping through the day, hoping that the swelling would have vanished the next time I woke up. It took me two whole days to be able to slightly peek out of that eyelid, finally seeing the world in its true dimension.

Since then, my brain has ordered a ‘shoot-on-sight’ command for all the ants, and my hands have been automatically squishing them on sight. So beware, all you ants! I am on a hunting mission with real vengeance!!

The First Flash of Spots…

The most graceful cat in the feline family. The one with the shining yellow coat and the eye-shaped spots peppered on it. The one with the cocky gait and the regal grace. The one that took us six years of tripping into the jungle before spotting one. Panthera pedra, or the leopard.

Somehow, this species kept eluding us. We missed spotting them by minutes and seconds, and finally, in September 2005,  at Bandipura National park, we spotted one. He was as huge and muscular as a leopard could get, and was lying on a low branch of a tree, around 20 feet from the track. My dad and I rolled for all that we were worth, making up for the six years of deprivation. After more than half an hour, he finally got up and jumped down from the tree. We thought we had seen the last of him, when he reappeared, this time, right in front of us, on the track, and walked straight on. We followed him for a few hundred yards before he cut into the undergrowths and disappeared, giving us one final look over his shoulder.

The first sighting!

The very next morning, we went to the same spot, and decided to go to the watch tower in that area to see if we could spot him again. Only this time, when we reached there, he was sitting ON the watch tower, looking down at us! Lying down, and looking at us with half closed eyes, it was apparent that we were not very welcome visitors. With a visible sigh, he heaved himself up, walked to the stairs, and then walked down them as if he had been trained at the circus! One step at a time. He brushed past us, before leaping across the track and finally disappearing into the bushes.

On the watch tower!!

Circus act!

For all that I know, the time we spent with this leopard more than made up for the seven years of deception, and I must say, it was definitely worth the wait.

Back to the Jurassic age

He came running towards us, with quick short steps, on his disproportionately petite legs, head bent low, with fury gleaming in his eyes. ‘Click’ went the gun, and with the same speed, he turned back, kicked up a cloud of dust, and ran into the undergrowths. It was my first ever rhino charge.

The Charge!!

Kaziranga National Park, Assam, is one place where everything charges at you- the rhinos, the buffaloes and of course, the elephants. And that is why this is the only national park in India that provides every jeep with an experienced guard with a gun. The gun, an old, rusted, battle-worn one, sometimes held together with rubber bands, did not give me much comfort; but the guards holding them did. They are the most dedicated and selfless workers I have ever met. They treat the jungle like their own home, and mourn the death of every animal at the hands of a poacher, as if it was one of their own. With the fire of revenge boiling deep inside, they patrol the jungle day and night, shooting at the poachers on sight. These guards, also very knowledgeable and amiable, are ones who deserve way more recognition than what they get.

I remember my first rhino sighting vividly. It was a misty morning, and the rhino was up to his horn in the water, munching at the water plants, as we stood there in the jeep, our teeth chattering in the cold. This prehistoric animal, which made me feel like I was transported back to the Jurassic age, is the most unpredictable animal I have ever seen. Known for its sudden mood swings, and its charges without warning and reason, it is one of the most dangerous animals to encounter. The guards usually avoid using the gun till the last moment and try to scare it away just by clicking it. We were charged at by rhinos five times during our stay there. Though not as hair-raising as an elephant charge, it was scary enough to get our adrenalin flowing at full speed.

Peering out of the elephant grass…

To tell you the truth, I was terrified the whole time that I was there. The elephant grass, around six feet tall, kissing the edges of the road, and permitting us only the view of the road in front of us and behind us, constantly kept me on the edge. There could have been an elephant or a rhino standing right next to the road, waiting to charge at us, and we would not have known it until he was practically on top of us! I constantly kept peering into the gaps between the blades, looking out for those grey-black humps. But fortunately, none of those wild imaginations that were constantly running in my mind came true.

What with the cold, long drives in the open gypsy, the ‘skin-curdling’ sun beating on our faces, the rhinos, the elephants and the myriad colourful birds flitting from tree to tree, it was definitely one helluva trip!

The Striped One

The muscular shoulders moving up and down; the padded paws stepping soundlessly on the soft sand, leaving a huge pug mark in its place. Just a slight whoosh of wind as he walked past me and left my heart thudding in my throat. Now that is what I call is a real adrenalin rush…

The Dots…

I have seen peacocks dancing; I have seen wild dogs playing; I have been charged by elephants; but nothing can match the exhilarating feeling that you get when you see a tiger in the wild. You get to know his sheer size when you are dwarfed next to him in the gypsy you are sitting in. The grace with which he walks, making no sound as he treads or rather floats over the carpet of dry leaves on the ground, which would make a cacophony of noise if you or I tiptoed on it. Panthera tigris, or the tiger, the largest species in the cat family and the national animal of India.

I distinctly remember the first time I saw a tiger in the wild. It was in the year 2000, in Ranathambore National Park, Rajasthan. I was around six years old, and was quite new to the ‘wildlifing’ experience. It had been almost five trips into the jungle and we still hadn’t spotted a tiger. And then, just after another disappointing trip, we were heading back to the resort, in low spirits, when the guide shouted “Tiger”. I was sitting on my mom’s lap and was twisting about, trying to spot the tiger, when no one seemed to care about the little girl asking everyone where the tiger was. My mom whispered, “Look on the road”. And there he was, right on the middle of the road, giving us a haughty look. He walked towards, to our side of the canter, and brushed past us so closely, that I could have actually touched him if I had stretched out my hand. And that was my first encounter with the tiger.

The Silent Walk…

Even after seeing a tiger in the wild so many times, this species still manages to leave me breathless every time I see one. After all, the tiger was not named the national animal for nothing!!

Watching from the watch tower…

Waiting with our eyes peeled wide open; our ears pricking up at every slight sound. The sound of silence overwhelming our senses, injected with just the sound of birds, insects and the occasional trumpet of an elephant. Spending time in the watch tower next to ‘Tiger Tank’ in Nagarhole National Park, has become a ritual that we follow every day that we are there.  Sitting for around six hours in that large, green steel structure in the sweltering heat of the summer afternoon is something that I would not give up for any book in the world. There is something about this quiet wait that makes me feel like I’m snuggled up in a blanket of peace and warmth. For me, this has been the apt place for completing all my holiday assignments, reading a book, or just staring into space, dreaming and conjuring fantasies.

The steel body…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are a lot of things to look forward to when we are up there, but not always do we get to see animals. There have been days when we haven’t seen a single creature, and there have been days when we have witnessed a lot of action. When the animals sense the presence of alien creatures (us) near the water hole, they tend to avoid it (and for good reason too, as the Homo sapiens haven’t been completely fair to any of the other species they share the earth with). And of course, there is the lunch time. Opening boxes of sandwiches and bananas and munching away in silence, having no words to express all our feelings, but just smiling at each other and saying it all.

Tail pulling!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few incidents which stand out from the times I have spent on the watch tower include, the time when a herd of deer started giving out alarm calls, when one of them spotted one of us moving in the watch tower (man, it was really embarrassing!). And then there was the time, when a tiger walked up to the salt lick next to the tank. We were so excited to see the tiger, and had just begun to roll the film, when a tusker marched into the scene, chased the tiger away and triumphantly walked away too (I mean, why chase the tiger away, if he does not want to use the salt lick himself? At least we would have got the shots that we had been long waiting for!). And then there was this other time when a herd of elephants walked into the tank, and had the time of their lives, splashing around in the water. And of course, we had the time of our lives too!

Sitting there in the watch tower, for me, is kind of like sitting in a spiritual trance… Every little speck of dust around you attains utmost clarity, and you finally feel at peace with yourself. “The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be, amidst the simple beauty of nature. As long as this exists, and it certainly always will, I know that then there will always be comfort for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances may be. And I firmly believe that nature brings solace in all troubles.”

Hoot Hoot!!

           A narrow pathway of sand and pebbles, so overgrown with grass and bushes that you wouldn’t be able to find it unless an experienced tracker pointed it out; tufts of grass and loose stones that would make you kiss the ground if you didn’t walk very carefully. On this track we walked over three kilometres, straining our necks and scanning the tree tops for those sleek black and brown bodies, swinging from branch to branch.

The Hoolongapar Gibbon Sanctuary, formerly known as the Gibbon Wildlife Sanctuary, in Jorhat, was one place I could not miss after going all the way to Assam. It is the only place in the world that has the Hoolock gibbons, the only ape species in India. It also has six other endemic species of primates – the pig tailed macaque, the stump tailed macaque, the rhesus macaque, the capped langur and the slow loris. The Himalayan giant squirrel, a bigger and darker version of the Malabar giant squirrel is another very prominent species there.

A Male Gibbon...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The day before we were supposed to go there, an elephant was run over by a train, as she and her herd were crossing the tracks to get to the other side of the jungle, just a few hundred metres from the entrance of the Gibbon sanctuary. The agitated herd was still roaming about in the vicinity, and tourists were prohibited from venturing inside. But being a photographer, with huge lenses, does have its benefits! They let us in, along with another couple of photographers, and we were accompanied by two trackers with shot guns.

But the presence of the trackers with the guns definitely did not ease my qualms. I kept seeing dark humps everywhere in the dense undergrowth, and once, we even had to double back because we found fresh elephant dung on the tracks. I knew deep down, that though we couldn’t see the herd, they knew about our presence but decided to let us through unhurt, in spite of the gruesome murder of one of their members. It was one real nerve-racking experience to walk in the dense shrubbery, without the protection of a vehicle, knowing that a herd of angry elephants was on the prowl.

We walked on for quite a long distance, dragging along our heavy gear, and we had almost given up, when finally, the trackers gestured impatiently at us to hurry up. We ran forward, and spotted a group of gibbons, high up in a hoolong tree- four lithe bodies, hanging precariously to the high branches, one jet black male, and three brown females. We spent around 15 minutes with them, as they lazed around, eating leaves, swinging from branch to branch. And then… An alien male entered their territory. The group started hooting so loudly, that the entire sanctuary vibrated with the cacophony of the noise they were making. Down below, we were nearly deafened and I was busy recording the sound on my mobile, as the group hovered around the male, who was sitting quietly on a low branch, throwing leaves and branches at him, but never really making contact. It was a real spectacle, watching the entire drama unfold right in front of our eyes (and ears), for over half an hour, before finally, the thoroughly bored male moved away. We were also lucky enough to spot three other species as we came out - the pig tailed macaque, the capped langur, which on seeing us, started throwing fruits at us (and I must say its aim was nearly perfect) and the nocturnal slow loris.

A female and her young..

Thanking the trackers profusely for all that they had done for us, we went back to the car, sweating like pigs, in spite of the cold winter wind. As I sat back in my seat, tired and spent, I realised just how lucky I was to have seen something, whose very existence not many people know about. And oh yes, also a ringtone that no one else in the world, I’m sure, has!!

The Mane or the Stripes??

Ask any kid who the king of the jungle is, and she will promptly reply that it is the lion. Well, I used to disagree with this, because, I thought that the tiger was more majestic and “kinglier” than the lion. But, this was before I paid a visit to the abode of the Asiatic lions, the Gir National park in Gujarat.

Beating the heat...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The people there were so warm and kind, that I felt at home almost at once. It was love at the first sight. As simple as that.  We were doubly excited when we heard that there were two prides with really small cubs, just about a few months old. We kept our fingers crossed throughout, in the hope of getting just a glimpse of them. But it took us three trips into the jungle just to set my eyes on my first lion (or lioness to be exact). After the first sighting, we were lucky enough to spot a lion or a lioness every other trip; but the cubs still evaded us.

We were accompanied by Murad bhaiya, our driver, and Bikku bhaiya, his friend, who is known to be the best lion tracker there. He is well known for his famous “disappearance acts”. Walking into the dense growths, he would ask us to drive on, and would wolf- whistle from somewhere about a kilometre ahead, to tell us that he had spotted a pride of lions there. The first time he did this, I grew quite worried, because we had driven on for a considerable distance, and there was still no sight of him. And then, out of the blue, he pushed out of the undergrowth, whistling at us to stop. He jumped onto the jeep, and guided Murad bhaiya through an unused path, the jeep groaning and whining as it bumped on tree stumps and rocks, before we saw a pride of lions basking in the sun. There was no way we could have spotted this from the usual path that we had been following!!

Bikku Bhaiya

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Passing time during the long waits for the lions to show themselves was also, surprisingly, quite interesting. Instead of the usual quiet waits, where we would be left to our own thoughts with just the sound of the wind and the chirruping of the birds to set the beat to our thoughts, we had a fruity feast! Plucking Kali Mynha berries, straight from the low branches, wiping the milk that the broken stump secreted on their rough leaves, and devouring them till our tongues became black and numb, is something I have never experienced anywhere else. Bikku Bhaiya also made us try the fruits from the tree whose leaves are used to make beedi, and surprisingly, they were really tasty for a fruit from a tree used to make something so despicable and harmful.

The days passed by quickly, and the final day dawned. Disappointed at the thought of leaving without setting our eyes on the little ones, we were greeted with more bad news. One of the cubs we were hoping to see had been killed by a lion from the rival pride. I remember the guard shedding tears, as he told us about the trusting mother, whom he had known ever since she was a cub. It was a very quiet trip, as we all mourned in silence for the little one. Suddenly, the jeep halted with a jerk, and Murad bhaiya, with shaking hands pointed out to a small speck at the top of a small hillock. It was the lioness who had lost her cub, and her other two cubs. The cubs were unusually quiet, and I knew that they were mourning for their brother too, in their own special way. Not wanting to intrude, we left them in peace after catching an eyeful of them.

And Finally.....

“Everything you see exists together in a delicate balance. As king, you need to understand that balance, and respect all the creatures from the crawling ant to the leaping antelope”, said Mufasa in The Lion King. I still feel that the tiger is more majestic than the lion, but I know now, deep down, that the lion is kinglier, and deserves to be the king of the jungle.

The Kindle that cannot kindle enough!!

To lay back on a mountain of cushions, with a bowl of crunchies in one hand and an engrossing book in another. To breathe in the aroma of the freshly printed text and to feel the crisp pages crackle between your fingers, as you flip the pages brimming with curiosity, your eyes rapidly moving along the lines, eager to know what happens next. The sensuous feeling you experience when you read a book is completely lost when you have a techy screen in its place; just one tablet holding all the books in your library. People, who travel often, find this mode of reading easier and lighter. True. But it can never replace the book. Ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of the dog, it is too dark to read”, said Groucho Marx. I have always believed, that books, like snitches, remember the first person who touches and reads them. This is why, I have always insisted on buying my own books, and also being the first one to read them. This is why, I hate parting with my books, even for a short while; because they are mine, and mine alone. A part of me is enclosed within the book when I finish reading it, and only when ‘I’ open it again, years or months later, will the memories of the tears shed, and the laughs shared in the course of reading that book flood back to me. This magical feeling is lost once an outsider handles the book.

These beliefs of mine might sound absurd to you. But this is what I believe in, and strongly stand by. People think I am rude when I refuse to give them some book of mine. People think I am rude when I say that I don’t like parting with my books. But I always make my stand very clear. I will just not part with any of my books, like it or not. And face it, the Kindle can never kindle these feelings in you!!

Elephants – The Silent Rumblers

Huge, grey giants grazing placidly in the grasslands, carefully dusting the shoots in their trunks before devouring them. The mothers suckling their young ones and the calves playing with their siblings. A lone tusker, striding slowly around the herd, looking out for females in heat. Just sitting amongst these extremely social creatures gives me a sense of peace that simply cannot be replicated. These silent giants that communicate using low, infrasonic rumbles that are carried across kilometres are truly one of a kind.

Known to be the largest mammal on land, elephants look very intimidating, but in reality have really soft hearts. They have been an integral part of my life, right from my childhood. The first time I remember seeing an elephant in wild is in Kabini, when a juvenile tusker charged at us, and then went squeaking into the bushes, frightened by the sound of our jeep (and yes, elephants do squeak and squeal!). Those were the days, when I looked out for those grey humps in the undergrowth expectantly, and was genuinely excited when we spotted a herd.

Of all shapes and sizes...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But then, around five years back, I had an encounter with this particular herd of elephants, which completely changed my attitude towards this species. It was in the summer of 2006, in Corbett National Park. We spotted a herd of elephants in the grasslands and drove towards it at great speed. Halting next to the herd, we did not realise that our jeep came in between two of the calves and the rest of the herd. The entire herd, comprising around ten huge females, charged right at us, trumpeting with all their might. We immediately moved forward and the herd calmed down after the calves were safe amongst them. I was shivering hysterically and tears flowed down my cheeks. It was a long time before I could regain control. Till date, this has been the ultimate charge I have ever experienced.

Charge!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After this incident, I began dreading the sight of elephants, begging my dad to push off before they charged. After experiencing so many charges, people might presume that I would have got used to them. But I can firmly say that this is one thing that no one can ever get used to. Something I have always noticed in these charges is that they are always “charges”, not “attacks”. We can never really blame them for these charges because it is we humans who encroach into their space and threaten their survival.

In spite of my fear of elephants, the first things that come to my mind when talking about them are those moments of pleasure that I have spent with them. One such significant incident was when a thoroughly bored tusker chased all the vehicles around him and enjoyed seeing us back out. Another was when we stayed with a herd of elephants, which had a two day old calf with them, for around two hours. Watching the little one weaving between the legs of the females and being bullied by his siblings is a memory that will always remain close to my heart.

The humility of these gentle giants is a must-mention. In spite of their tremendous physical strength and the power they hold, they will never harm another creature, unless really provoked. I still remember the day when a young female charged at us, and then went and stood behind a very thin tree, trying to hide behind it. They are indeed, humility personified.

“If there is one attribute I would like humans to learn from elephants, it is silence”, said Katy Payne the founder of the Elephant Listening Project. These humble and gentle creatures are the ones i love the best and respect the most, cause I know deep down, that behind no charge is an evil intention; but only the drive to survive.

As A Wildlife Lover

To sit amidst a herd of elephants, watching the little ones suckle their mothers and the young bulls square off. To first be treated with suspicion, as a stranger; And then as a tolerable guest; before they open up their little fold and let us in. To sit in absolute silence, with only the birds’ and the insects’ chirrups in the background… Ah!! Bliss!!!

Wild and free…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To people who ask me if it is not boring and monotonous to visit the same forests repeatedly, I can only say that they cannot be more mistaken… Buildings and cities may remain as such, but never forests. They are not at all similar, and the same forest is never the same on two different days. The sensation of being there, of being a part of the untouched wilderness, of feeling the dominance of Mother Nature, which changes to addiction after just a little while, is something that cannot be explained and can only be understood with experience. Different wildlife lovers might like different seasons and aspects of the forest. But one thing they will all agree with is that, it’s the one love in their lives that they will not give up for a million dollars!!!