Trip to Konkan & Kerela- Day 6

Entering Kerala-Hindi songs, meeting Kavitha ji and the best compliment i ever got!

I woke up at Mangalore station. Mangalore was to be the last station in state of Karnataka. After this Kerala would start. Thrissur was to come by 12.30pm.

The beggar in the train, was singing an old hindi song. That was totally unexpected and the only reason I could think of was that this beggar was not from Kerala, but from north. I wanted to ask them, but did not. I was conscious, of what people will think of me. I still have the feeling conscious thing left in me. Sometimes I gather courage and do things without bothering much, but sometime like here, I dont take that step.

Around 11.30 I got a call from Abey. He asked me to get down at Shoranur Jn, which was one station before Thrissur. He told me to take a bus from there for Thrissur. His home falls on the Shoranur-Thrissur road. The train had entered Shoranur city and was about to reach the station. I just had a few minutes to pack my stuff and get down.

When I got down, I remembered Kavitha ji was suppose to be here too. She had been coming from Hyderabad, get down at Shoranur and then change trains for her hometown Kannur. And if her train was running on time, she should be at Shoranur now. I called her up, and yes she was there. She told me to come to platform 2. It was so good to meet someone totally unexpectedly, in an unexpected territory. We just kept smiling and laughing again and again. I gave her a book of puzzles for her 5 year old son Anand. I had bought this book in the train.

I got the Thrissur bus, just outside the station. Language was to be a problem here. I had to explain the conductor that I need to get down at Vellapaya before Thrissur. I decided to right the key words on a chit of paper and show it to him.
I wrote: Shoranur Station---> Thrissur bus---> vellapaya

He read that and understood. He said something in Malayalam, which I had no clue of, but I understood what he meant. He was assuring me not to worry. He would let me know, when my stop comes.

This was my first bus ride in Kerala. Here they dont have glass windows. They have kind of a shutter on windows. When it rains, the shutter is pulled down, and otherwise the whole thing is open. The reason for this is, that Kerala can be very humid. Glass would be a very bad material to use to humid climate, especially when you have 50 people sitting in the bus and perspiring. You need a lot of breeze, wind.

I got down at Vellapaya, and took an auto to KILA (Kerala Institute of Local Administration). This is where Abey George works. The guard at the gate, without me saying anything asked me if I was Harsha? yes I am, I said smiling. He said something, which meant follow me. He took me straight into the mess for lunch. He told the lady there, that Im guest of Abey saar, and that Im a vegetarian. The lady served me lunch. It had rice, along with 5-6 other items. All seemed familiar except one. I asked, what that was. Fish, she said. In this part of India, Fish is considered vegetarian. When I asked for water, she served me warm water. In Kerala, they serve warm water with food. All this was new for me.

Then came Abey. I was so happy to see him. He asked me to finish the food fast and then accompany him to a meeting with the local Panchayat. In the car were Jyothi and Arunima. I had met jyothi just once earlier about 10 years back. She had come to her house, and my mom was very happy to know that Abey found his partner. My mom was always worried about him. For me Abey had always been my hero. He was a student of my mom and so would visit our house almost everyday. There he would have long discussions with my father on issues of development, modernity,culture,environment,gandhi and all that. And I would just sit with them and listen. He then one day left for Narmada Bachao Andolan. He returned after a few months, to complete his Phd. He had been my hero since then. We were meeting after 10 years now. I was meeting Arunima, their daughter for the first time. She was 3 years old, and had probably for the first time seen a guy from north.

We all went to the Panchayat office for the meeting. In Kerala, 33% of the state budget is directly distributed to the village panchayat. And so as a result, the panchayats are very strong here. Though most Panchayats either waste the money or spend on the usual things like making roads and all, but for some one who is looking to do good work, alternative work, there is scope. Abey, with this panchayat was working to revive the traditional water harvesting model. Over the years, as a result of concretization, the water table in entire Kerala has gone down. To recover that, water harvesting can prove vital. And so in this regard was this meeting.

I was also happy to know, that his son Adityan who is 6 years old, studies in the village school in Malayalam medium. Which other professor would send his child to a village school? No one does. English medium is what everyone looks for. To see Adityan, was again a sense of reassuring.

The whole evening I spent playing with Adityan and Arunima. Adityan could manage a few english words, while Arunima just talked straight to me in Malayalam. I would not understand a word she would say, but she would still continue to talk. And the only response I had was "..uhh, ha". Sometimes it would be really funny too. Arunima asked me (in Malayalam of course) if I would want to have bath in hot water or cold water? My response was the same, "....uhh, ha". she then ran to her mom in the kitchen and said what kind of answer is that. When Jyothi told me all this, we all laughed loud, with Arunima wondering what is so funny.

Abey was to leave by 11.30 train for Thiruanandpuram. He was to spend a day there and then return the day after. So I had only a couple of hours to talk to him, before he returns. Our conversation started on an unexpected note. He wasn't too happy for the fact that I was taking up Phd. He didnt think much of doing Phds and academicians and also thought that Im taking a big jump from Electronics Engg to Humanities, Indian culture and all that. We had a serious, sometimes heated discussion. In the end we had to stop it, as it was getting late, and he was to get ready. Just as our discussion ended, he said to Jyothi "you know what, he reminds me of Satya ji (my father). The way he speaks, what he speaks, the way he stands everything". I was moved, speechless. We were all quiet for a few seconds. I guess no one knew what to say. It was the best compliment I had ever received in my life. I thought of my mom.

Trip to Konkan & Kerela- Day 5

I had a train for Thrissur in the night today. The train was from Madgaon. I had planned to spend the day in Panjim, and then take a bus to Madgoan in the evening. The train was at 11.30 in the night.
In the morning, Kanwarjit's uncle and his cousin arrived. Both of them were sikhs. I thought I would ask Kanwarjit, at a suitable time, why he is not a sikh, why he cut his hair? The effects of sikh riots in '84 and then the militancy in Punjab can still be seen. I never found that right moment, where I could have asked this to Kanwarjit. I guess, our friendship still need to build more, before I could ask this.
The whole morning we sat in the kitchen and talked, while it drizzled outside. I must have told Yashoda and Kanwarjit, how happy and inspired I was to see them,their lifestyle. I just felt like telling this to them. Their's was life, I had always thought of living. They slept on the floor, ate on the floor, ate with hands, cooked for themselves, cleaned their house themselves, had no TV. Seeing them, I felt reassured. I felt, yes I wasn't dreaming something unreal. Such a life is possible, and can be lived. There are people living like this. And they are proud of themselves. I was proud of them too.
I asked Kanwarjit, how he managed his finances."Money has always been an issue", he said. But there was no remorse in his voice. It was like saying, although he his struggling for living, but he his happy that he took this life. This was a live example in front of me, where money is a problem, but its not a hindrance to their happiness, to their sense of achievement, to their commitment to nature and society. Its no big deal in the end. I always knew all that in theory, but to see it practically was reassuring.

In the afternoon I went to Panjim city. Went to the Miramar beach again and sat there. Not many people were there at that time of the day. Sometimes I was all alone. The sea was rough. At a distance there were few boys playing football. This is one of the few places in India, where cricket is not seen. I haven't seen anyone in Goa play cricket. Football yes. I found a cyber cafe near Miramar. I had to write a blog. There was so much in me, I had to write all that.

I found Artee online on gtalk. She told me, she has a friend who works in Panjim and gave me her phone number. I called Sharon, told her my name is Harsh and I got your number from Artee. We decided to meet at 3.30 at some restaurant near the boathouse. All this while she kept calling me 'Hari' or 'Harish'. I wanted to correct her, but just felt shy.

I waited outside the Mandovi restaurant, waiting for Sharon to arrive. I would at every woman passing by and wonder if that was her. I had told Sharon, that I m wearing a Khadi Kurta and blue Jeans, so that it would be easy for her to recognize me. I guess, in Panjim I was the only guy in that outfit. Not many people wear a Kurta in the cities. Well, she came and she recognized me. One just needs to look and smile, and not say anything. We then went to this one of the rare vegetarian restaurants. While I had Paav bhaji, Sharon had tea.

At 5.00 I had to reach Kala Academy, where Kanwarjit would meet me along with his son Anant. Anant takes his flute lessons there. There were a lot of children there coming for music or dance lessons. While Anant went for his classes, Kanwarjit and I sat outside talking. It had finally started raining now, the kind of rain I came looking for. Kanwarjit had brought some old puzzles and books which Anant had used. I was to take them to Thrissur for Abey's kids. The idea of passing on the toys from elders to someone young seemed so sensible to me. I always used, toys of my cousins, cricket bat, hockey stick, carrom board etc. Every child in the city need not buy a toy. But then what will happen to the market, to the shops, to the factories?? I can just smile at that....

I took a 7.00 pm shuttle to Madgaon. Roamed around the markets there and then walked to the station. In Madgaon, I saw my first slum in Goa. It was a cluster of 5 houses in between the Apollo hospital and station. The thought of whole Goa being slum free felt so good, but also seemed impossible. I was at the station at 9.30. While entering it, the guards thoroughly checked me and my stuff. They checked my ticket and asked me all sorts of questions. I felt that little sense of fear in me, although I knew I was clean. Why did they pick me out of many others? I still dont know.

My train, Netravati express came on time at 11.30. It had been a long day and I was tired. I just crashed into my birth.

Trip to Konkan & Kerela- Day 4

At Kudal

In the morning while I woke up I heard the sound of rain. Finally there was some. I have been chasing the rain, but they have been running away from me. I came to Hyderabad from Delhi in the hope that it would rain good,but it did not. Then I took on this trip in the hope of some rain, but it did not. And finally I heard it pouring in the morning. It would be my day today I thought.
When I got up, I realized there was no water. The water did not come and we were careless not to fill a bucket before going to sleep. Bloody hell. I needed to shit badly now that I was off the bed. I could have managed a bath as it was raining outside, but how to manage shitting. I was stuck. The idea of not to shit at all seemed a little too uncomfortable. I thought I could go behind the training centre in the open and use the leaves. But just then I saw an open tank lying in the open. Since it had rained all night, the tank managed to catch hold of some water. And this water would give me liberation.
The breakfast again was that of Vada Paav. Next we went to Konbac office to have a discussion with Sanjeev. As we were to leave today for Goa, we wanted to clear some doubts we had with him before leaving. At his office we saw a familiar face. We seemed familiar too. Hey its the same lady at the resort yesterday. We were so happy to see her again, totally unexpectedly. Her name was Prema, belonged to Delhi and worked with UNDP. Under that she works with many NGOs across the country. One such organization is Pradaan working with tribals of Jhanrkhand and Orissa. Prema was in Konbac to see their bamboo work and see how the tradtional knowledge of the tribals are be made accessible to the market. And so she was here to meet Sanjeev.
Prema too was headed to Goa and she had a cab with her. She offered us a lift and we gladly accepted it.
On our way we stopped at Sawantwadi at a dhaba for lunch. While Prema had a non-veg thali (fish and prawns and mutton, you name it) we had a veg malvani thali. I just tasted a piece of prawn from her thali.
Prema dropped us at Panaji, the capital of Goa. Panaji is on the banks of river Mandovi. We thought to just take a stroll along the river, as it was evening time and then leave for kanwarjit's place. We must have walked for about 40 min, when we reached the sea. It's called the Miramar beach. It is where the river meets the sea, an estuary. I was seeing this for the first time in my life. The slow and quiet meeting of fresh water into the salty water of the sea. We also realized that we had walked across the whole Panaji city.
We then came back to the main bus stand and from there took a bus to Porvorim, where Kanwarjit lives. On the way was a place called Coquirrin, named after a restaurant. Outside the restaurant is a statue of Charles Shobraj seated and handcuffed. I was told be a local that it was here that he was caught for the third time. Charles Shobraj is an infamous murderer and thug, who has number of cases against him in many countries. The India police had caught him twice before and each time he managed to flee from the jail.

Trip to Konkan & Kerela- Day 3

Kudal-Malvan-Tarkarli-Kudal

i found vada paav at a small tea shop for breakfast. I make a point to not miss them whenever Im in Maharashtra.Nothing cant beat vada paav for me. So we had a lovely breakfast.
Bamboo Meeting-
We then spent a few hours seeing the workshop of Konbac. We were basically accompanying Sanjeev, the director of Konbac, George the person who designs all the artifacts and Himnashu Karve who had come from Pune. Himanshu was some kind of an expert from Pune who was here for some expert advice Konbac needed. Himanshu also happened to know Kanwarjit. We mostly listened quietly to their conversation. Based on that i figured that Konbac is facing mainly four problems with bamboo
1.I a bamboo wall (say a row of 100 bamboos) a few of them (3 out of 100) would get the fungal infection randomly. Konbac had no idea why that was happening and what is to be done for that.
2.To align bamboo pillars (which were to be the building blocks of a structure) was a difficult task.
3.Puncturing bamboo to put of bolt can often cause cracks to develop.
4. I dont rememer the fourth problem. Just slipped out of my mind.

This meeting cum touring happened till 11am when George suddenly suggested us to visit a resort in the village Tarkarli. There a bamboo boat house was being constructed, which we could have a look at. I dont know why, but some how I had assumed that we would be taken to all these constructions sites. But this was a reminder to us that we are now grownups and we need to travel alone. George drew a rough map for us to reach Tarkarli and they dropped us at the Kudal bus station. We were to take a bus from here to Malvan.
The good thing in Maharashtra is the you get state owned buses for every remote village. In fact I m told there is a system of Makaam gadi (makaam means destination and gadi would be bus), where the last bus in the evening would leave for the remotest village in the region, stay there over night and then return the next morning. So we took another of those red ST bus to another town called Malvan. As usual it was another rickety bus, ready to fall apart. Ive started loving them now.
The route from Kudal to Malvan was beeeeuatiful. We were traveling up and down the meadows, plenty of turns and curves and the bus would stop at every village on the way. The villages in this part are beautiful. Right in the middle of forest, one would find some huts and some plane agriculture area. The houses are made in traditional style. They have a slanting roof, where mud tiles are placed on top of another. The slope is such that it is just enough to stops the mud tiles from slipping. The force of friction allows them to hold onto each other. As a result no cement is used in the roof. I was told by an architect that the roof consumes the maximum cement in a house and so this arrangement is not only cheap but a lot more environment friendly. The walls of the houses though was mostly of concrete. That saddened me a bit. Im still looking for a village in India where they have traditional houses,dresses,food etc. I guess i need to go off the road to find one now. The road seemed to have 'modernized' (and concretized) our society.
On the way to Malvan we crossed a river. When i tried to locate it on the map, it showed no river in that region. The water body was definetly too big to be a nullah. Im sure it is a river. We reached Malvan bus stand in about 40 min. From there we took another bus to Tarkarli village, our destination or makaam. Just before reaching Tarkarli the bus with an almost head on collision with a motor cycle. Thankfully there were no major injuries, just a few bruises. We all got down the bus, the two riders were taken to a house next to the road, where an old woman gave something to them to eat. I think it must be something in the kitchen with would prevent infection. As a child my mom used to give me haldi-milk each time I would fall on the road. It is suppose to prevent tetanus. Thankfully in India most of our medicines come from our kitchen and we dont have to depend much on the market for our health. But the sad part is, we dont seem to value this. This knowledge can easily die out with one generation and there may come a time where we would have to rush to a chemist for as small a problem like a cut in the hand. I believe the kitchen has cure for all minor injuries and illness and also for some major illnesses.
Our bus moved forward only when everyone was convinced that the two motor cycle riders are now fine and back in normal senses. In rural India people are still not in too much of hurry and that basic concern for the other is still there.
2 min after that we got down at the MTDC (Maharashtra Tourism Development Corporation) resort in the Tarkarli village. This resort is at the beach where a boat house made of bamboo is being constructed. We had come here to see the construction. At the entrance of the resort there was a sign board saying "entry for only those who are staying". We would not even have been allowed to enter if Konbac had not sent us. I thought its a life time opportunity for me to enjoy a beach resort for free. I dont think I will ever be able to afford a vacation at one ever. And so we made full used of the opportunity. We saw the construction, ate food and then sat on the beach, watching the sea. It was a rough sea as this is the monsoon season. Just as we were sitting there, a woman came and sat next to us. I just turned and said hi to her, to which she also responded with a smile. I guess she must be one of those elites who can afford to stay at a resort like this.

On our way back, we got down half way in a village. We still had time in our hand and so thought to have a closer look at a village. We spent I think an hour, just moving in the village, drinking water from a well, peeping into a school classroom. We then caught another bus back to Kudal.

Trip to Konkan and Kerela- Day 1&2

Hyd-Belgaum

We took the Rayalseema express from Lingampally station in Hyderabad. Before leaving i checked the train schedule. it stopped after every 30 min on average. I was very happy to see that. It meant spending more time in the country side, getting down at all those small stations.
Next day in the morning, after crossing Hubli the forests started. I have not seen a greener India in my life. The train slowly moved right through the jungle area, with light drizzle all along. This was like a meadow area, all up and down. In between there would be small farms. Because of the slopy terrain, people do step farming here, much like in the lower Himalayas. The farmers working in the field were using a jute bag covering their back as a rain coat. I think the crop they were sowing was rice, and so that would mean spend the whole day bending down and sowing seeds. Only the back is then exposed to the sky and hence the rain. And so a jute back on the back acts like a raincoat.
In the train we met Nezar Karam, a Sudanese national. I would have mistaken him for any other south indian had he not said he is from Sudan. He had been in India for a over a month and traveling, traveling alone. He was headed for Goa. He would have got down at a station named Londa and from there taken a bus to Madgaon. He told me about Sudan. They recently found oil, and so the economy is now booming. Even many Indian firms are investing in Sudan. I asked about Darfur, as Sudan is in news only for that here. He said Darfur is like Kashmir in India, at one end of the country. What happens in Darfur is restricted to that area only. He said it takes a 7 day drive by car to reach Darfur from Khartoum, the capital of Sudan.

We reached Belgaum at noon. Beautiful weather, nice quite town, the highest point in this region.We had a nice lunch and then took a Goa state transport bus to Sawantwadi in Maharashtra.

Sanwantwadi-Kudal

We met Kanwarjeet at the Sawantwadi bus station. We thought we would go to his place in Goa, but he had other plans for us. He told us to leave for a small town Kudal right away. We were to stay there for 2 days, see the bamboo constructions in nearby villages and then return to Goa at his place. He quickly made a map for us, and guided us to the bus which was leaving for Kudal. And so off we went to Kudal, totally unplanned, completely new territory. I sure was excited.
We stayed at the training centre of Konbac. Konbac stands for Konkan Bamboo and Cane development centre. I guess its a govt fundede organization working in Bamboo in the Konkan region. They have a training centre where they train the local people to make different artifacts of bamboo.

Whats behind the dustbin??!!

India is a dirty country. There is garbage out everywhere in open. Why don't we have bins everywhere? why don't we throw our waste in the bins?
I met Abhinav in SIDH, Mussorie and we spent some time together. He was one of those NRI kids who had an urge to travel India, to know what India is, to know why India is the way it is, to look for their roots. Both of us had gone to SIDH with the similar objective. Interacting with him, also gave me an insight into the first world. Abhinav lived in Canada, and at that time was visiting India.
So where do you people throw your waste, I asked him. Bin was the answer. All the wasted produced goes in the Bin. The laws are followed strictly there. There are heavy fines for someone caught littering in open. Also the people there value their clean streets. But is that the end of story? Is throwing your waste in the dustbin the end of the problem? Pawanji asked us these questions. He told us to find what happens to the bin when it is full.
The west is consuming at an alarming rate and this consumption is their symbol of development. But with high consumption comes high waste production, and waste disposal is therefore a huge problem. Throwing the waste in the bin is not the end of the story. Every morning the bin is empty. So where did the waste go from there? Evaporated? Buried? Or recycled?
The first world exports its waste to the third world, mainly to nations in Africa. Ship loads of waste, all kinds of waste (plastic, electronic, chemical, biological and perhaps even nuclear) are shipped off to Africa. We are talking in the magnitude of tens of thousands of tonnes of waste. All that shipped to Africa.
So why would an African nation take all that waste? In exchange of the aid given by west. The western donors give a lot of aid in terms of food,medicines, relief materials and in exchange they serve as their bin. Africa is fast becoming a global bin. All that we throw in our neighbourhood bin, lands up in some African village.
To throw one's waste in the bin is not the end of it. We need to talk about consumption and production of waste. Endless consumption leads to production of huge amounts of waste. The neighborhood bin is not big enough to handle our waste.

What about recycling? Why don't we recycle our waste?
I feel thats another strong myth we all have, that recycling is the end of the problem. In nature there is nothing as recycling. The natural process is called 'Avartansheel' process. Interestingly, I have not come across and English word for that. 'Avartansheel is something more that recycling'. Lets take the example of a tree. You sow a seed, it grows into a plant and then a tree. It then gives flowers and fruits and through them we get the seed back. This will be termed as a cyclic process. But in this process, all the units involved are getting enriched. The soil, water, air ,tree, seed all of them are more enriched at the end of the cycle. So, in 'Avartansheel' process not only recycling is taking place but also enrichment is happening simultaneously. Lets now compare it with the recycling of plastic or paper. By the end of recycling plastic, what is get is a degraded quality of plastic (and not enriched). And the other units like water get polluted. The same is the case with paper or any other product which is recycled. The process of recycling not enough, nothing short of 'Avartansheel' process will do. Otherwise it is simply converting one kind of environmental problem to another.

So throwing things in the bin or assuming that recycling is the answer will not do. We have to talk about our consumption and waste production. Our generation cannot afford to runaway from this problem. Im not saying lets start throwing our waste in open, but throwing something in the bin is not the end of it. We have to start taking stock of our consumption NOW.

Learning Samskritam

Last week I saw a pamphlet in Navjyoti ji's room. It talked of a 5 day residential Sanskrit learning shivir. To learn Indian languages has been in my plans for a long time, but I never considered Sanskrit among them. I never knew anyone who would speak Sanskrit and would be ready to teach me. So seeing this pamphlet I thought to give it a try. The cost of shivir for just Rs.150 for 5 days, something which I could afford. I also thought, learning Sanskrit could provide me the base to learn more Indian languages as it is the mother of all languages. I asked Navjyoti ji about it and he readily agreed for me to go there.

The shivir was organized in a Sai Dham ashram in a village on outskirts of Hyderabad. The venue was an added incentive for me. I thought it would give me another experience of spending some time in rural Andhra and therefore learn more about the local way of living. While on my way to the venue I thought not more than 5 people would be present. After all who would be interested in learning Sanskrit when better options like French, German and English were available. Maybe a few old people who have retired from jobs would come for such a workshop.

When I reached there I was surprised to see the number of people who had come. There must have been around 60 people, as young as Pranav who studied in class VII and as old a few people of my grandparents' age. I was also happy to see Prashant and Lini there. I knew then already from IIIT. When I reached there, a lecture was being delivered by a swami ji. He was speaking in Sanskrit, and I understood almost nothing of what he said.

Our classes started around 11am on the first day. I was looking forward to their way of teaching a language. To be able to learn a language in just 5 days was something I wanted to see how. The golden rule of the shivir was to speak in Sanskrit. Only in Sanskrit for the next 5 days, whether we are in class or outside. How would I do that when I don't know Sanskrit. Well you speak while enacting the actions. So for example if I'm asking for water, I enact out water and use the word 'Jalam' for it. If I don't know the word 'Jalam', then by the response from the other person I will get to know that water means 'Jalam'. I would also know the use of the word 'Jalam'. Our teacher Devki said, "we teach language the way a mother teaches it to her child, through actions". We all learned our languages not from grammar books but by observing our parents, by them enacting to us what they wanted to communicate. When I see my young nephew who is still learning our language, actions is what he uses to describe things to us. Thats the way you learn a language.

So the next 5 days were very interesting for me. We were speaking,acting,making mistakes and laughing. All that made us think in Sanskrit. Our time-table of the was also well packed. We would get up at 5am and sleep by 10 in the night. The Ashram was 10km from a near by village named Keesara. It was on top of a hill with hills all around. I asked Sanjeev Mahodaya (who was one of the organizers) next day in the morning about arrangements of toilet. He said I could just go anywhere. I just need to pick a bucket and walk in any direction, find a suitable place and then do the needful. When I asked about bathing, same was his answer. I could just fill my bucket and take bath in the open. WOW! thats what I was looking for. I have had not had this experience of going out in the field and bathing in open for some years now. The only place I find this luxury is in my village. I used it to the fullest here. This of course meant regularizing my diet. I could not afford to over-eat or eat at wrong timings. I cannot afford to have pressure at anytime of the day. I could also not afford to not have pressure at 5 in the morning. Luckily it all went well. I ate regularly, and it just went fine. A few steps closer to natural living.

Being there I also got an insight of Andhra way of eating food. The meals are eaten in number of courses. First rice if served along with dry vegetable and chutney. Once you have done with that, more rice would be served, this time with Sambar. Mind you, there are no bowls or spoons. The only utensil they have is a plate and they prefer eating with hands. So rice and Sambar is mixed well and eaten. When done with that, more rice is served with buttermilk. I do not know the local name of buttermilk, but since we were speaking in sanskrit it was referred as 'takram'. Rice was 'annam', dry vegetable was 'vyanjanam' and sambar was 'shakanam'. Water was of couse 'jalam'. This style of eating is quite different from north Indian way of eating. In north chapati (Indian bread) is a must in any meal, which is something not seen in south. Also in north people just eat everything together. So this experience was something new and wonderful for me. The food was more than usual spicy for me.

This shivir was organized by an organization named Sanskrit Bharti. In Sanskrit they see immense potential. A lady told us that the nation of Israel was built around Hebrew language. Few people spent their entire lives simplifying Hebrew and making it the national language and around that they were able to built a whole nation. Using Sanskrit, re-uniting the whole Bharat seemed one of the objectives. There was also a strong belief that chanting of Sanskrit slokas is good for mind, body and environment. And then there are the vedas. A lot of people including myself who believe the vedas have a lot of knowledge in them which needs to be explored. And to do that Sanskrit is the medium. So Sanskrit there was something more than a language. It was a means to save our culture.

For me there was another interesting observation. I got a feel of what traditional Indian way of knowing is and I could compare it with modern way of understanding things. The way I was grown up, I developed a habit of understanding things through logic. It is called the rationale way of thinking. That's how we understand things, and that how we believe things can be understood. But there has been another way of understanding which is seen in Indian tradition and also in Buddist. This is by first completely submitting oneself to what is being said. To completely being the way it is required to understand. And then have faith and patience both that understanding will come. In this method, faith is the most important thing to start with. You can not start by doubting the proposal. Where as in modern style, raising questions becomes an important part of learning.

I found myself devided between these two processes. I could not think of understanding by any other method than reasoning. But I could not neglect the traditional method too as I know people who have understood things using this method. For me, the 5 days were a struggle to decide what method I should adopt when listening to all that was talked about there.

The shivir also gave an opportunity to make new friends. Spending time together and learning a language made us gel together well. We all enjoyed each other's company.

What is a country? What is India?

What is India? How do we define it? Who is an Indian? Amitabh (Mitu) asked me these questions about 2 years back when I was at SIDH. The larger question was how do we define a nation, and more specifically how to define India? India still can be defined to an extent, but how to define Hindustan or Bharat? These questions have been bothering me for sometime now.

I thought of number of possible parameters that can be used to define a nation. The parameters of culture, language, geographical boundaries, religion, the way people look etc. But they all seem to fail when it comes to defining Bharat. The culture at a level changes every 10 miles in any direction one travels. Yet at the same point the deeper culture remains same here, in Pakistan, Bangladesh or any country in this region. The same is the case with language. Geographical boundaries are also no barriers. Be it the mountains or the seas, Bharat extends beyond them. Religion is again that changes from neighbors to regions. So how do we define our country? Where do we draw the borders on the map. Interestingly the borders of present day India were not drawn by any Indian. Our borders were drawn by British officers. The validity of parameters based on which they drew the line is for us to decide individually.

I read a blog recently which was written on the Tibet issue. The writer of the blog wondered why India is failing to take a stand on Tibet? What stand should India take, I thought. The Chinese have reasons of their own to believe Tibet to be part of them. The Tibetans have reasons to have a free nation. How would a third party like India decide whose reasons are more genuine?Will the parameters we choose to take sides, remain the same when it comes to some other country or even within India?

From an individual perspective the question is where do we relate ourselves and where we do not? We relate to any reported incident in a village in Punjab, but going further west a few miles there might be another village in Punjab (Pakistan) for which we may not feel concerned. How did we draw this line in our minds? Tomorrow if another division happens in the country, will we stop relating to another set of people?

So why does an individual like me worry about all these questions? Why don't I leave this for the politicians or bureaucrats? At an individual level I think it's a matter of my identity. It's how I identify myself. The answers to these questions may not effect my salary or my grades in anyway, but it is true I can't let them remain answered. All my fight for grades and packages is for my identity, and this is one of the fundamental issue relating to what I am.

The questions still remain. What is India? Where does it start and where does it end? Who is an Indian? Who am I?

Death of Mahashay Sadaram Arya

It was september 1997. One month had passed since my father passed away. I was 15 years old then. School had started again and I was trying to get back into normal life. My friends at school were proving to be a great support. Incidently two of them had also been in the situation I was in now. Their father had also passed away in the last few years. Their support in the class was proving invaluable to me. On the other hand I was acting the brave boy. I would smile at anyone who would stop and talk to me. Before they could ask about my well being, I would promptly ask about theirs.

One month had passed. It was a hot september afternoon. I had just returned from school. My mom was at work. She had prepared lunch for me in the morning itself and left for work. I only had to take shower and then eat the lunch. This had been our usual schedule in the afternoon. I had just entered my home, was just surfing the TV channels when the door bell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone. As I opened the door I saw Mahashay Sadaram Arya standing there. He was an old man from Haryana. Mahashay is the title used in the state of Haryana and West U.P which signifies 'respected gentleman'. This title is usually used for an elderly person in the village who commands respect. Somebody people look upto for advice in village matters or even personal matters.

For people like him nothing more is more important than defending the integrity of this title. No amount of money or any other incentive would prove effective when it comes to influencing their descision in village matters. In a village, such people will hold lot more integrity than the local judge or lawyer.

Sadaram ji had great respect for my father. He considered him like his son. He would often visit our home and have long discussions on the present state of the country, the youth and the possible solutions. In Jeevan Vidya he saw the potential to give right understanding to the youth. His biggest worry was the disorientation of the village youth towards their village, their culture and unusual fascination towards city life. He called it the 'trouser culture'. The steady decline in the interest in farming was something that really worried him. In discussions with my father he saw some kind of hope for future. And so Mahashay Sadaram Arya was very fond of my dad. He was fond of me too. But I disliked him. I disliked him, because he was a typical village elder and I was growing into a modern boy. His expectations bothered me and my freedom worried him. While he expected a young boy like me should learn and appreciate the art of touching feet of elders, to me that looked an act of curbing my freedom. So while everytime I touched his feet the way my father wanted but in me I always felt uncomfortable. The act of bending down in front of someone and touching his feet seemed an interferance in my freedom.

Anyways, so this man was standing out at the door happy to see me. I too smiled back at him (with a little sense of discomfort in me). This time there was no dad who would ask me to touch his feet. Therefore the responsibility fell on me. I bent down and touched his feet. He gave me his blessings. I led him inside our house into the drawing room. It was a hot day and his face was red. I offered him some water and then sat on the sofa in front of him. We were both sitting quietly waiting for the other to start a conversation. He broke the silence by asking how my school was and how my studies were going. I had the usual readymade replies for such questions. I answered them promptly with an artificial smile. There was again a period of silence.

I was expecting him to mention a word about my father. Something of a sort that how bad he felt to hear the news of his demise. But he wasn't saying a word. I thought maybe he gathering some courage to speak to me about him. He then spoke." Please call your father and inform him about me. Please ask him if he could come a little early from office. I want to discuss something important with him".

I didn't know what to say. This man had come to meet my father. He had no clue that he had passed away just a month back. We had sent a letter to everyone informing about the demise, but I guess the letter never reached his village. The Indian postal system cannot be fully trusted when it comes to delivering important letters.
This situation was new to me. I had to inform somebody in person about my father's death. I just didn't know what to say, what words to speak. I kept quiet for what could have been the longest one minute in my life. I was looking at him and he was looking at me. He was probably wondering why I am not picking the phone and calling my father.

I then spoke."Don't you know? Did you not recieve the post card? My father died last month".

There was complete silence in the room. I could hear the sound of fan. This old man had completely gone quiet. His face got more red. He just sat there without making any sound. His eyes were wide open. He was looking at something, not me.

I slowly started feeling bad. It felt as if I gave this man a shock of his life. A shock he was not prepared for. We just sat there quietly facing each other. No one said anything. He then got up. "I should leave now", he said. He then moved towards the door. He stopped, turned back and put his hand on my head. It was a gesture of giving me good wishes. He then went away, went back to his village in Haryana from where he had come.

I was wondering what was going inside him. He must have had lots of plans for his village, all of which must have come crashing down. The problem of disoriented youth all of sudden must have become huge. When he would reach back home in the evening people would ask about the meeting. What will he tell them?? I kept thinking on all that the whole day. That was probably the first time I cursed the postal department. Why did the post card not reach him??

Few days past by since that day. One day I recieved a post card. It said, " With great greif we inform you about the sad demise of Mahashay Sadaram Arya". The old man had died within a month of that incident. The postal department did not miss the letter this time thankfully. I had tears in my eyes.

It's been more than 10 years now since this incident happened. Mahashay Sadaram Arya's face is still clear to me. I still remember the details of that day.

The Blue Tooth way of touching feet

I was at home last week. It was good to be back with the family after a long time. The entire family was there over the dinner on 29th March. Usually it's unlikely in our family for everyone to be present together at the same time in the house and have dinner. So this was one such not so often occasion. And boy we did have fun. Lots of chit chatting, lots of leg pulling and lots of jokes.

Amongst all those funny conversation, one such conversation tinkled a bell in me which I thought is worth sharing on this platform. It was about the Blue tooth technology. For those who may not be aware of what Blue tooth refers to, let me just mention a line for it. Blue tooth is a technology, where two electronic devices can interact with each other, without any physical contact between them. This technology is commonly used in mobile phones these days. If two phones are in vicinity of each other, then using Blue tooth they can exchange data from one another. And for this purpose physical contact is not necessary.

Anyways, coming back to our family talk, my brother tried to show the extension of this technology in our relations. He described, what he termed "The blue tooth way of touching feet".
It's a common practice in Indian families to touch the feet of any elderly person one meets. The method of touching feet has however changed over the years. The original method was to bend fully and massage both the legs of the elderly. This massage giving would last for half a minute to one minute. The elderly person meanwhile showers the youngsters with all the best wishes he can think of. This method over the years 'evolved' into a method where the youngster bends down fully and touches both the feet with both hands. The time reduced from half a minute to about 10 seconds. And in these few seconds, the elderly would shower whatever best wishes he can think of. The massaging of feet vanished. Further 'evolution' meant, the youngsters now would bend and touch any one foot with any one hand. The time of the process further decreased. Moving further into time, the youngsters would now just half bend, and touch the knees of the elderly with one hand, instead of the feet. The time taken would be in order of couple of seconds. And now the latest thing is to touch the feet using Blue tooth. The youngster just pretends to bend, with one hand pointing towards the feet of elderly. There would be no physical contact. The hand and the feet would be in vicinity of each other. Similarly the elderly would just keep his hand over the youngster's head and not touch it. My brother termed this as 'The Blue tooth way of touching feet'.

My Nani (grandmother) had a great laugh over this. She is the only one in the family who has witnessed the massaging method of feet touching. My brothers and I only know the latest two forms described.

The dead phone

My phone went dead a few days back and as a result I lost all the contact numbers in it. I then wrote a mail to all my friends informing about the incident and asking their numbers. Some of the responses I got were interesting, and so I thought to write a post on it.
The following is what I wrote, followed by some of the responses I got.

"dear friends,
due to the sad demise of my phone yesterday i have lost all my contact details. it would be great if u can mail me your phone numbers. sorry for the trouble.
also i may not be available on phone for few days (till i fix this one or buy a new set). till then please feel free to contact me over email."

and the responses were.......

>ooops dude what happened to your phone....
9818588696 my working cell phone number
26411199
41622329 my resi numbers>

>I can just picture the jaspal bhatti episode, in which his phone is declared 'dead' ..safed chaddar... mourners.. gali ke sab log aate hein afsos dene... hehe..
My number in UK is - 0044-7747031399
And my number in India is / was - 0091-9818333036
chal ja naya phone khareed ab.. yeh sab natak issi liye tha na.. kyunki tujhe naya phone chahiye tha... i tell you kids these days..

>9966162734

>9885078508
......... not a single word of sympathy.SOB! SOB!

>bahut dukh huaa jaan kar bhai....chal koi nahin himmat rakh upar wala sab sahi karega....waise mera number store kar lena...its 9899099849.

>Dear Harsh,
Jaihind!
Sorry to hear about the sad 'demise' of your cell phone. Yes, it is a disastewr these days. Hope you would be able to fix it.
Here are my contact numbers:
Mobile: 093123 23702

>ha......ha.........ha......... :)
condolences..... :(
may ur mobile rest in peace..........
according 2 me ....everything in our life has got an ultimatum.......ie; there is a limit for using things ....whether eating or using......i think ur mobile might have reached that ultimatum...by usage. U might have used to its max capacity..and so it decided to rest in peace........
well......my no is : 9966655730
.....first you laugh, and then you give condolence and then lecture

>hey i read that as "Warm regrets" haha...my phone number is 9871311353

>my due condolence 4 ur mobile..........
my d way mt no. is 09425562690....
pls do in4m as soon as dis problm gets sorted......
....it took me 4 days to figure out that in4m is short for inform

>do u really want our no.s?
........ this was one of the best. notice i still dont have her number. also notice the word 'our'. how many are you?? biharis are never alone.

>I am sure you must have done something to it... any way heres mine
9833975345"

>Nalayak, Phone kahan de diya tha?? Abhi jaldi se theek karwa kar phone karna iss no par... 09971176672
......kaha diya tha ka kya matlab hai. hadh hai matlab batameezi ki.

>What happened to ur phone? abhi to ek saal bhi nahi hua tha..
nd wat did d nokia care guys say abt it?
.....where is the number???

>Hi,
where have u lost ur phone??My no. is 9740444775..
........I DID NOT LOSE IT.

>Hows it going? well.. the number is... +91 9980331167 you can save it now! and lemme know yours if you are getting a new one..
by the way.. if i may ask.. how did the sad demise happen ? tervi kab hai? :P

>Oye kya ho gaya aapke phone ko…..jab bhi main decide karti hu aaapko call karne ko tabhi aapka cell maar jata hai……. J very bad aur batao kya haal chaal hai…sab kuc mast???
........ arre as if my phone dies every month. people she never calls me, just gives plain excuses. and notice even here she did not give her number.

Some one special at AIIMS bus stop...Taare Zameen Par part-III

It was a nice sunny winter afternoon in December. I was standing at the AIIMS bus stop in Delhi. I was waiting for a bus which would take me to Noida, my work place. The winter afternoons are quite pleasant in Delhi. It is real fun to enjoy the sun. This is the only time of year in India, when people can enjoy sun. All other time, it is the sun which enjoys people. My shift was to start at 4pm and it was only 2pm now. The journey to office was not more than 40min. I am one of those who take one's own sweet time to reach work. I never got late for work, but I have never been in a hurry. I always started way before time from home, and would take my own sweet time to travel. I would happily let the crowded buses go by and wait for an empty bus. On my route usually 2-3 packed privately owned buses would be followed by one empty DTC bus (government owned). And while I would wait for my bus, I would enjoy the afternoon sun and also the people.
The AIIMS bus stop that time was my favorite hang out place. Lot of people would come and go and I would just observe them. I would eat nice warm moongfalis (peanuts) while doing this. Sometimes on Sundays Gayatri would come and join me as her house was right behind the bus stop. Since I worked in a news channel then, Sundays was working for me. I think my off that time was on Friday.
This must have been a weekday, as I was not expecting Gayatri to give me company that day. As I stood there watching buses come and go, a girl came and stood by me. She seemed fairly dressed and educated. She then asked me if bus number 544 would come here. When she asked this question, she seemed to be looking at something else. It was like she is looking across the street and asking me. At first I got confused if the question was meant for me. But as I was the only one at the proximity of her voice, I replied back,"Jee haa. yahi pe aayegi". To this she replied, "Jab aayegi to please bata dena." I was now sure that the question was addressed to me. But she was still looking across the street while talking to me. And moreover why should I tell her when the bus comes? Can't she for herself see it? She looked literate enough to read the numbers on the bus.
In India, its a common habit on our part to not look into the eyes when talking to a stranger of opposite sex. I thought probably thats the case here. Maybe this girl is a little too shy to look at me and speak. But she seemed more than being a shy person. While speaking she never stood still. She kept shifting her weight from one leg to other much too often. It was like she is dancing to some music. And she kept adjusting her chunni (a wrap around) much too often. I could figure out something was not normal here, but exactly what I did not know. Moreover why should I fear from a girl I thought. She should fear from me (specially with my bearded look).
While we waited for our buses, this girl stood a little too close to me. Normally we maintain an extra distance if standing to a stranger of opposite sex. She stood so close, that she even bumped into me once while looking at something across the street. All this was surely new to me, and I knew she is not normal. I thought she could be blind, but never dared to look into her eyes to confirm that. Usually blind people wear dark goggles and carry a stick with them. She didn't have any.
Just then a bus approached us and she asked excitedly. "544? 544?" Why is she asking, cant she see it, I thought? As I did not respond, her excitement grew and she asked again "yeh 544 to nahi hai?". And this time she held my hand. As if forcing me to respond quickly, else she might miss her bus. This was really unusual. I never even dared to hold my girlfriend's hand in public. Is she crazy or what.
Well yes she was. I realized she was one of those 'special' people who have had a stunted mental growth. While their body has grown to take an adult form, their mind is still between a child and an adult. These people are not crazy. They are like young adults.
Seeing this I replied "nahi nahi mudrika hai. aap chinta mat kijiye, main aapko bata dunga jab 544 aayegi?" I was feeling a lot relaxed now. All my doubts had gone. I was there with someone special that day. I was feeling relieved to not have jumped to any wrong conclusions about this person. I was feeling happy that destiny had given this chance to me. I was also being careful in not showing over care towards her. The fact she has chosen to travel alone means she is confident of herself. Let me not break that confidence by over care I thought. I was also happy to see, that this girl trusts people on street. She has this confidence that she will be safe. She had confidence in me. All this made me smile. I just stood there and smiled, while she stood right next to me still looking across the road.
Just then my bus came, bus to Noida. This was a DTC bus, empty with seats available. What should I do? I did what I felt like. I stood there and let the bus go. I was in no hurry to reach to work. And I thought the first thing I'll do on reaching office is tell my boss Shruti about it.

While we stood there, this girl asked me, "aapko kaha jaana hai?". I said "Noida". "Agar aapki bus aayegi to aap chale jana. Meri bus ki service to kam hai". " Koi baat nahi. aap chinta mat karo", I said.

I stood there looking at the buses. She stood there looking across the street and making that to and fro movement. Then came her bus. I saw the number from a distance. I said pointing towards the bus "woh aa gayi 544". While I said this and waved at the bus to stop, I thought I should help her get on to it. But how was the question. Should I just point her the bus, or should I hold hand and take her to the bus? Should I hold her palm or should I hold her wrist? When I was thinking all that, she kept her hand on my wrist. I smiled again.
I then took her to the rear door of the bus. She climbed onto the bus, taking one step at a time and firmly holding onto the rod. The bus was crowded, but I was sure she will manage a seat. Just as the bus moved away a thought came to my mind. I should have taken her to the front door instead. The first seat at the front door is for physically challenged people. Shit that was such a silly mistake on my part. But I knew the girl was confident enough to find her way through the crowd in the bus. I knew she would be just fine. And as for me, well I was feeling so good about myself. I was happy for her. For the first time I felt being happy for someone else.

I then got a lift in a cab to Noida. I reached Noida before the bus which I had left earlier. It was a perfect start to my day. I told Neha and Shruti about the incident at work and they were happy too.

Why do children hate Karelas-- Conditioning of mind

The issue of conditioning of mind has been occupying my thoughts for some years now. Conditioning of mind is like programing of mind. The mind is trained to think within the boundaries created. The mind is also trained to think on certain lines and not deviate from it. Its like someone has programed the mind and decided 'what' and 'how' to think for us. This is referred to as conditioning of mind. I first came across this topic during a discussion in a JV workshop in Mussoorie in 2004. Since then I've been thinking on this issue. I also read a book named 'Freedom from the known' by Jedu Krishnamurthy, where he talks at length about de-conditioning of mind.

I wonder how deep this conditioning goes and when did it start. Did it start when I went to school first? The earliest conditioning I can think of is to regard first rank or good marks as something great. Or did the conditioning start when I started seeing television. The conditioning of regarding certain set of clothes as cool and others as not so cool seemed to have taken place through television for me. Or did the conditioning started even earlier?

I've been observing kids very carefully on this issue. In my family I have 3 nieces and 2 nephews. The eldest of them now being 10 years and the youngest 11 months old. I haven't seen the youngest one much, but I have seen the other kids in the grow very closely. And often I have observed rather innocent but serious conditioning taking place on part of the parents. One very common thing I have seen in my family is the way we talk. We all talk in a fairly normal way (the accent, the voice, the pitch) when talking among ourselves. But when we need to speak with any of the kids, our style of talking completely changes. To sound polite to them everything changes about the way we speak (the pitch, the accent, the choice of words). As a result we may sound quite polite to the kids, but we sure do not sound normal to them. And I believe they are smart enough to notice this change (however small they maybe). I now think of the damage this does to them. We are showing a part of hypocrisies in us, where we behave differently with different people.

I can think of another incident which clearly showed me how a child gets conditioned. In December I was visiting my cousins in Mumbai. One of my nephew belongs there and he is about 3 years old now. I was talking about the above example with my brother and it made him think. During this trip we visited a family friend in Nerul. The sweet aunty gave Rehaan (my nephew) a piece of paper and pen to play with. Rehaan used that to draw some figure which was some figure in line with evolution of snakes. My bhabhi would very politely ask what he has drawn, and "snakes" came the answer. To this my bhabhi replied "ooooh snake! oh im scared Rehaaan" (notice the extra a in rehaan). And with this she would also enact out the emotion of fear on her face. Rehaan would then runaway into a different room and come back again within a minute. He would come back with another similar figure and my bhabhi would ask the same question. He gave the same answer again, "snakes" and that followed exactly the same response from my Bhabhi. This happened 4 times in 5 minutes. The 5th time Rehaan came with his drawing, he related the words "snakes" with "fear" and the expression my Bhabhi would make. I'm assuming here that at that time he got conditioned. He got conditioned into thinking that snakes are something to be feared of. And as he will grow his 'natural' reaction on seeing snakes would be that of fear.

I can relate this example to my life. I can see how my 'natural' reactions were not natural enough but conditioned. I'm not saying the parents did this with some bad purpose in mind. This act has been done with pure innocence on their part I'm sure.

I was reading a blog recently where this girl talks about how every child hates karela. How the 'natural' reaction of every child on seeing a karela would be 'chee, chee', while this girl loved karelas as a kid. I think a similar thing happens with karela too. When a child tastes karela (or anything which is sour), the mother (or any adult) makes this hate expression on the face. And I think this act done number of times makes it 'natural' for a kid to dislike sour things. And similarly to like sweet things. I cannot imagine that our tongue is designed to me less favorable for karela and more favorable for an ice-cream. I think the issue of tasty food is more of conditioning of mind and less of the structure of our tongue.

As we grow older, this conditioning becomes stronger and wider. This conditioning then plays a major part in our decisions in every aspect of life, shopping, hobbies, choosing a partner, choosing a job etc.

A-Z of places I've visited

A for Amarkantak- Amarkantak is where from river Narmada originates. The river originates from a spring over which people have built the narmada temple. Narmada is the only major Indian river flowing westward to join the arabian sea. All other rivers meet the bay of bengal. Amarkantak is suppose to be the highest point in the vindhyachal range. A place called Som dhara near it is like the end of the world. It is at the edge of the mountain. On looking down all you see is clouds, no ground. It is a breath taking sight. The nearest station is Pendra Road, which is well connected by trains from Delhi or Raipur. For those who love the jungles of central India, Amarkantak is a must.

B for Badrinath- It is the temple of Lord Vishnu located in the north of Garhwal region in Uttaranchal. It is just 40km from the Indo-Tibet border. Badrinath was established by Shankaracharya. This is quite an interesting fact because Shankaracharya hailed from southern state of Kerela. It is said his journey (from Kerela to Uttaranchal and back to Kerela) took some 7 years. There is an early morning 5am aarti which takes place at Badrinath. There is a hot water spring and also the river Alaknanda flows besides the temple. People take bath usually by mixing the water from the river and the spring (otherwise you may end up burning yourself or freezing). 5km from Badrinath is a small village called Mana, which is the last Indian village in that area. The road on Indian side ends at Mana. The people of Mana are a mix of Indian and Tibetan blood. There is also Valley of flowers close to Badrinath. The nearest town to all three of them is Joshimath which is inhabited all round the year. Badrinath, Mana and Valley of flowers are opened only for a few summer months. One has to book cabs from Delhi or Rishikesh to reach Badrinath. The journey can easily be two days long one way if weather permits. The road from Rishikesh to Badrinath is about 300km moving all along the river Ganga. On way one passes through many prayags. A prayag is a place where two rivers meet. It is a sight in itself to see two rivers meet from mountain top. The route is marred my deep river gorges and also many waterfalls, some even falling on the road. People take bath and wash their vehicles under such waterfalls.

C for Chail- Chail is located in the state of Himachal pradesh. It is a few hours journey from Chandigarh on one side and Simla on other side. The road from Chail to Simla maintains a constant altitude till Kufri. Most mountain roads are zig-zag and go up and down. This road is only zig-zag and does not change its altitude at all. Chail also has the worlds highest cricket field. Right on the top of the mountain, they have a plain oval shaped field with an old score board. The field looks something like the cricket field in Lagaan (the dust is replaced by lush green grass here). This field is the home of hundreds of monkeys, so never even think about showing an iota of attitude to them. They'll chase you all the way down to Chandigarh (speaking from personal experience). Simla is 4 hours drive from Chail via Kufri. Kufri is known for its snowfall. On way back to Chandigarh, a little off the road (about 15km) is a small town named Kasauli. Kasauli has an airforce base and is also inhabited by mostly retired army generals. One doesn't find too many hotels there (it seems they don't want to encourage tourists). The nearest city to all of them is Chandigarh.

D for Dalhousie- It lies in the dhauladhar ranges in the state of himachal pradesh. One could get there via Pathankot or through Kangra. In Dalhousie town, if you are looking for good aloo paranthas then sharma’s dhaba is the place on Gandhi chowk. It’s a shabby looking dhaba (that’s how dhabas are suppose to look), but the aloo paranthas are comaparable to the best I’ve eaten. Near Dalhousie is the famous Khajjiar lake which is referred as mini Switzerland due to its similar looks. Khajjiar is 23 km from Dalhousie, and buses are available to take you there and back. Another place is dain kund. It’s an airforce base located at the highest peak in the region. This base just over looks Pakistan and therefore is used for monitoring activities across the border. They have a huge radar there which is guess is used to intercept signals. Near the base lies a temple and a beautiful valley. No buses go there, so has to walk. The distance would be around 17 km from Dalhousie.

E for (nothing i can think of.....)

F for Fatehpur Sikri- This was the capital of emperor Akbar. It is about 35km from Agra. Fatehpur Sikri boasts of Buland Darwaza, the tallest gate in the world. It sure is huge. There is nothing more to the town. Closest city is Agra where Tajmahal and Agra fort are worth seeing. Agra is 200km from Delhi and well connected by buses and trains.

G for Gurgaon- That was the only place I could think with G. Gurgaon is a suburb of Delhi on the Delhi-Jaipur NH-8. Old Gurgaon is a usual Indian town, but the DLF area looks more of some western nation. It is flanked by tall,swanky corporate buildings, shopping malls and very expensive residence complexes. The most interesting thing I find about DLF area is the names they have chosen for roads and complexes. Each and every name it seems have been borrowed from the west. There are NO hindi names there. I wondered was it a deliberate policy on their end to choose such names or was it just a beautifully western coincidence. I believe it reflects the follow the west blindly kind of thinking in them, but I there is no way I can prove that. Gurgaon in anycase is used as the perfect face of growing India.

H for Hoshangabad- It is a small town in Madhyapradesh located on the banks of Narmada. I visited this place when in class VIII in a gurukul there. It is well connected to Bhopal.

I for (cant think of something....)

J for Jammu- This is the summer capital of J&K. I've never been to any place where there is so much of military. At first look it seems there is a war going on. 2hrs drive from Jammu is the temple of Mata Vaishno Devi. This temple is very popular among north Indians. Jammu is well connected by rail and road from Delhi.

K for Kanyakkumari- Kanyakkumari is the southern most point of the India mainland. This is where the Arabian sea, Indian Ocean and Bay of Bengal meet (though to naked eye it looks a simple sea). It is also the place from where Swami Vivekananda grew as a person. They have an Ashram of him there. Just off the mainland into the sea is the rock where Vivekananda used to meditate. There is also a beautiful statue of Guruvayur standing in the sea. Interestingly Kanyakkumari is in the state of Tamilnadu (for some reason I always thought it to be in Kerela).

L for (cant think of any....)

M for Mcleodganj- This is the seat of the govt in exile of Tibet. Home of the Dalai Lama. One would find a large number of Tibetans there, and many in monastic robes. Mcleodganj is about 15km above the town of Dharamshala. If you choose to walk from Dharamshala to Mcleodganj through the short cut, there comes a point from where one can see the cricket stadium in Dharamshala. It's like a bird eye's view of a stadium. Dharamshala is very close to Kangra which is famous for it's apple farms. The mountain range in this part of Himalayas is called Dhauladhar range. In Mcleodganj the majority of foreign tourists are from Israel. I don't know the reason for that, but they say Mcleodganj and Kullu are like second home to Israelis. Besides hotels, one room apartments are also available for those who plan to stay for months. A lot of Tibetan and Israeli food is also available along with the usual north indian food of course. Dharamshala is well connected by buses from Chandigarh and Delhi.

N for Nainital- This famous hill station lies in the Kumaon region of Uttaranchal. It is named after the Naini lake, which now is absolutely polluted, thanks to the tourism industry. There are other lakes around Nainital, but all are polluted now. There is Ranikhet some 35km from Nainital which is lot less crowded and clean. I personally prefer Ranikhet a better place to visit than Nainital for the simple reason that there are very few tourists there. Nainital is well connected by bus from Delhi, while the nearest station is located at Kathgodam.

O for (cant think of any....)

P for Pushkarji- Pushkar is 12km from the city of Ajmer. While Pushkar is known for the only temple of Brahma in the world, Ajmer is known for the dargaah of Khwaja Moinuddin chishti, a sufi saint. It is said that more Hindus visit the dargaah than Muslims. Pushkar is located on the bank of a lake. Ajmer too has a number of lakes. Ajmer is well connected by train and bus from Jaipur and Delhi.

Q for (cant think of any....)

R for Rohtang Pass- Rohtang pass is beyond the town of Manali. I went there in the month of May and it still snowed there. Beyond Rohtang lies the lahaul and spiti valley which connect Laddakh to Himachal. There are only two roads connecting to Laddakh. Besides the Srinagar-Leh NH-1A, this is the only road. The river Beas flows through Manali. Manali is well connected to Delhi and Chandigarh through road. It takes at least two days to reach Manali by Road.

S for Shimla- This is the capital of Himachalpradesh and the former summer capital of the Raj. It is the biggest city I've seen in the mountains. It occupies almost half the mountain. The Mall road in Shimla is where all the activity is in the night. New year's time is when it is most crowded. It is said that it always snows on the new year's eve, but this time it didn't snow and it made news. Shimla is well connected by road from Chandigarh and Delhi.

T for Thiruanandapuram- It is also known as Trivandrum for short. It is the capital of Kerela. The airport is located next to the sea, so the sight of runway is quite good. There are very few red lights in the city and not much traffic. The only place where one could find traffic snarls is near the secretariat. The narial paani is the most common drink you could get. In restaurants you get warm boiled water. I found it difficult to find open cold drinking water. And one should definetly try eating barrotas there.

U for (cant think of any....)

V for Valley of Flowers- This is the best place I have visited in my life. It is breathtakingly beautiful and one major reason for that is not may people visit the valley. The only way to get to the valley is to trek 18km from Govindghat (nearest road point) of to sit on a poney. Beyond the gate of the valley, the ponies are not allowed. You pass through the gate, climb the mountain and you the a 10km long valley. It is just amazing. All you see is a bed of flowers. All kinds of flowers, all possible colors. There are some flowers which blossom only once in one year. So if you see them on a day, you will not see them for the entire year. Also the valley changes its colors. Today it might have purple flowers, and tomorrow there will be magenta flowers. My writing skills are not good enough to describe the valley. All I can say is it's a must visit for those who love to trekk and those who love mountains. It is one of the very few places left in the mountains which is untouched by the tourists. Beyond the valley lies Badrinath on one side, while on the other side is Hemkunth Sahib. This is the highest gurudwara in the world. It is located at the banks of a lake. Nearest town is Joshimath, which is more than a day's drive from Rishikesh and Delhi.

W,X,Y for (cant think of any....)

Taare Zameen Par-II....The truth about truth

I was in SIDH last year for few months. SIDH is a non profit organization based in Mussoorie in the state of Uttaranchal. It has some 17 schools in villages nearby. I was in one of them, teaching all that I know to little but smart kids there. The time I spent there was perhaps the turning point in my life. It forced me to re-look at my country in a way I was not used to. It forced me to know about Bharat and not India.

While taking a class with fifth grade kids, I asked them once. "Do you people lie"? I got no answers. I then said, "I do lie sometimes. I'm sure even you must be doing it sometimes". They now started raising hands, indicating yes they do it sometimes. All of them raised their hands. All did lie at some point or the other. I then asked, "why do you lie"? The answers they were giving sounded familiar. They lie because they don't want to get a beating from their father or their teacher. They lie, because they don't want any kind of punishment in school. Then a little boy said " we also lie to impress others, our teacher, our friends". That was a really honest answer. I was not asking all this to see if they lie or not. I was asking this to them, to help me look inside myself. All those answers seemed so familiar. All those reasons were mine too. Just that as I grew older, my lies would be more to impress people than actually out of fear of some kind of punishment.

I then asked them, "do you also speak the truth?" They laughed to this question. What a silly question, "yes we do speak the truth", everyone said. Then I asked them "why do u speak the truth?". This question was also addressed to me. We were all thinking. Why do we speak the truth? I had not definite answers. Probably because it's the easiest thing to do, I thought. Just then a little girl stood up to answer the question. "We speak the truth because otherwise no one will believe us."

This statement left me thinking long after the class. We want others to believe us, to trust us.And for them to do that, we need to speak the truth. The same is the other way round. We want to trust people. And so we feel good when they speak the truth. Why does it feel bad when the other person lies?? I guess because the trust is broken. That is what probably hurts. And one lie, causes doubts on all the truths that have also been spoken.

A friend recently lied to me. It was a totally insignificant lie, non-consequential. But that lie shook me, broke my trust. I was forced to doubt every word she had uttered before. I wanted to stop, but could not help think all the statements she made to me. And the thought of them being a lie was disturbing. Maybe I've done the same with other people too. Maybe I've broken their trust too. Maybe just like me, even they asked "why me?"

When I decided to go to SIDH, Pawan ji had told me to come with an attitude of a student. To have an attitude that I may learn something there, from the local people. That class that day proved a turning point in my life. I realized I was not there to do some kind of social service. I was not there to help those kids. I was there to learn. To learn what I did not find in my text books for over 20 years. To know what Bharat is. I had a fairly good knowledge of India, but not Bharat.

March on global warming

I met Shashank a few days ago. He was planning to organize a rally to highlight the issue of global warming. In the conversation we had I wanted to know how serious he is and how he plans to take the rally. He asked me to join him for the march.

Yesterday some 200 students (mostly from IIIT) gathered in front of the cyber pearl building in the hi-tech city area. We had hired the city transport bus to take the students from the campus to rendevouz. Almost all the IIIT students were dressed in blue jeans and white t-shirts. I think this was some kind of planning from their side. I'm not sure why this combination of dress. We were also given half a page, describing small steps we can take in our lives which would help reduce global warming.

Most of the talks I have heard on this issue and even here, the solutions suggested seem to be insufficient. I feel even if all the solutions suggested here were implemented, at best the global warming will be postponed. If global warming was to happen today, it would be postponed to say 10 years from now. I think the core issue was missing. And I believe the core problem is consumerism. I feel unless the problem of endless consumerism is tackled, environmental breakdown is inevitable.

I'll try to explain with an example. One of the solution suggested is to have better technology cars, which emit less fumes in the air. But at the same time the target of the industry remains to increase the car sale. The ideal situation for industry would be if everyman on the earth owns a car. Now even if with new technology, the fuel emission is reduced by 15%, the car sales goes up 10 times. In total, more fumes are emitted now.

Our march began in front of a corporate building which was made entirely of glass. And that was not the only building. Almost all the corporate offices in hitech city (in fact even in other cities of the country) are made mainly of glass. Now India is a hot country where sun shines really bright. A glass building would allow immense amount of sun rays to enter the building. And to cool this heat so much of more air conditioning is required. I wonder if anyone gave a thought on this aspect of those glamorous buildings.

While marching and shouting slogans, I saw a roadside advertisement banner. It read (something something....Mini city, Mega comforts). The ad was for some upcoming township in Hyderabad. If someone is trying to fit in mega comforts into a mini city, I believe global warming is round the corner. I asked Harjinder ji if the issue of global warming can be tackled without talking about consumerism. His response was that each one is standing at a different point, and each one has to raise his voice from that point. He thought, in todays time we have to talk about multiple issues together rather can putting our energy on one issue. We both felt it was important to have some kind of follow up activity in IIIT, otherwise the whole issue would be diffused. I asked Shashank if they planned anything like that. He said they have planned to show the video recordings of the march in felicity (the upcoming college festival). They are also trying to organize some talks on the issue.

The heartening fact was to see Shashank and his friends organize the event. They managed everything well and in the end seemed pretty satisfied with the effort. When we reached back at the campus after the march, Shashank's friend gave him what they call bumps (number of guys lift one person and kick his ass, till it goes red or better sense prevails). Such a celebration is a sign of a successful event and the happiness in those people.

I really hope some kind of follow up activity is organized in the college. It's very easy for the young students here to undermine the seriousness of such activities. The follow up can help them continue to be sensitive about such issues.

By the way, just for record, some of the war cries and banners were
Jhonny Jhonny yes papa, global warming no papa
vote for, green planet
be different, go green
fly less
use public transport
........and some on the lighter side were
angrezo, bharat chhodo
inquilaab zindabaad

For me the success of rally would be if Shashank and his team of organizers can make their living more green. Anyone else would be a bonus.

Celebrating by selling Gandhi

It was my birthday on 26th. Usually I don't plan any celebrations. I always thought I should not plan celebrating my day of birth, but I would always feel nice if someone else planned it for me. The idea of a surprise birthday party thrown by friends always seemed so nice. This time I was feeling different. I don't know why, but I wanted to plan myself and invite friends.
So Devansh and I sat together about a week before to plan how to celebrate. We initially thought of going to Lingampally station and do some cleaning there. We got other ideas too. Finally we decided to sell books written by Gandhi. We basically intended two things through this. We wanted to get a feel (and also give a feel to our friends whom we were to invite) of what it is like to sell something out on the street. And we also wanted to distribute some works of Gandhi. One doesn't find much on Gandhi in books stores, and hardly anyone goes to buy his books. I once asked a store owner if he has any books written by Gandhi ji. He politely declined. But then said " oh sir, we do have the new harry potter book. If you would be interested". I smiled and said no thank you. Harry potter seemed to have taken over the land of Mahatma.

I even called two friends Mumbai and Pune, but only Ruchi could manage to come. I had a list of about 10 people in mind who would join us in the 'party'. The plan was to buy books, sell them on the Punjagutta crossing and then have food.

Ruchi and I went book hunting. Devansh had told us about a shop in exhibition ground in Nampally. When we reached there and said we were looking for books on Gandhi ji, they seemed surprised. As if saying are you sure?? It reminded us of the munna bhai film. The old man took us in the store, offered us seats and asked us which book are we looking for. "All of them", we said. The look on his face made us feel happy about ourselves. He showed us all the books. His autobiography, his book to students, to lawyers, about health and vegetarianism, about village industries. The cheapest was Rs.5 while the most expensive was Rs.35. Gandhi sells cheap, thankfully. It seems the government has given some kind of subsidy on his works so as to encourage people reading it. But I guess the youth today is not attracted by subsidy only. The youth requires some kind of glamour to move.

The next day was 26th. In the morning there was a small ceremony of flag hoisting in the campus. It got over by 9am and we decided to leave by 10am. Unfortunately only 4 of us could gather for the occasion. So off we went. We reached Lingampally station and decided to do a dress rehearsal there. The response we got there was totally unexpected. We didn't manage a single success. Everyone turned down the offer. Some gave funny looks, some laughed. One gentleman said "Gandhi...something something something"...I couldn't understand telugu, but figured that the man doesnt think much of Gandhi. At that point I thought maybe it was a bad idea. I got conscious too. Others too were feeling a bit down, but we still continued with our plan.

We reached Begumpet station, and decided to walk to Punjagutta crossing, which is about 2 km from there. On our way we would try to sell to any prospective buyer. Just then an uncle ji stopped. He seemed interested. He saw all the books we had and decided to buy two. That was our first sale. Our 'boney', and boy we were excited. It was then we decided we will sell all the books and only then go for the biryani.

We spent the next hour and a half at the Punjagutta crossing. The sun was bright. We got all sort of looks. The beggars at the crossing were also interested in what we were selling. One of them even flipped through the books. "I also sell books sometime at the crossings. But have never sold Gandhi ji's books" he said. Yeah I know, I thought.

The books I had were bought by an auto driver. When Ruchi was trying to sell one to two guys on a bike, one of them said he doesnt like Gandhi. But immediately the other one said he likes Gandhi and bought one from her. Devansh met a guy who asked the source we got our books from. He said he would go to the same shop and buy books from there. Devansh tried to sell the books in front of Himalaya book store, thinking that the people who would come there would be interested. But soon the store owner came with his guard and asked Devansh to leave the place...

All in all we had fun. After that we went to paradise to have some nice biryani. Thank you those who came and made my day, and those who could not make it, well we missed you.

Taare Zameen Par

It was may,1997. I was 15 years old. It was my third trip to Amarkantak. Amarkantak is suppose to be the highest point in the vindhya range in central Indian state. The sacred river Narmada originates from a spring here. People have built a temple over this spring. Right opposite to the temple is Baba's home. His name is Shri A.Nagaraj Sharma, but I always addressed him as Baba, meaning grandfather. I thought thats how my dad wanted me to address him. He probably related to him in father-son relation. My earlier trips to Amarkantak had been in 1990 and 1991 along with my family and other colleagues of my parents. This time, my dad had already been in Amarkantak, and my mom was not coming. So I was traveling alone. Well not alone entirely, I had Gaur uncle who was a faculty in Mechanical Engg department in IIT-D, Naresh Mamaji, his son Kapil who was my age, Neeraj who was 4 years elder to me and Sandeep who was few years younger to me. Then there were Sanjeev bhaiya and Ritu bhabhi also. Among them, I was the only one who had been to Amarkantak before.

My dad had left for Amarkantak in first week of May. Before leaving he had urged and also warned us (mom and I), to join him for the shivir. Jeevan Vidya had grown in the last 4 years, and he had been requesting us to do a shivir. For some reason, mom and I both had been giving him a slip on the issue. I'm still not sure what reason's mom had, but I had no reasons. The only possible reason I could think of is probably the fact that JV was still a rural thing. All the shivirs were held in rural India, and mostly farmers were getting associated with it. At time, I had a bent of mind, where it was difficult for me to relate to rural Indians. I felt more comfortable with my elite friend circle in Delhi. And so before leaving dad had given a sort of warning to both of us to come for the shivir, otherwise he may not return home. I guess, my mom decided to take a mid-path. She allowed me to go, but herself stayed back in Delhi. I also guess, Gaur uncle was also traveling for a similar reason.

As a child, I had always seen such kind of struggle between my parents. On one hand was my dad, totally against the modern world, who saw all the answers in JV, while on the other was my mom who wanted to be more practical. It was very hard for my mom to imagine a life without the usual luxuries in life, specially when our neighbors and relatives kept adding something each year. For me, dad was always correct, but I was too lazy and weak to start living the way he wanted me too. I loved wearing nike shoes, playing basketball, watching T.V, when I always knew one day I would leave all that. I just hoped to postpone that day a little bit. Our other relatives always had high regard for dad, but thought he was a little impractical. All this had been happening in my house, when finally dad gave us the final warning this time before leaving for Amarkantak.

Meanwhile in Amarkantak, people were gathering for the shivir. All of them were either friends or friends of friends who were coming by the word of mouth. Some of them were curious to know what JV is, while others were coming for the sake of their friendship, just like me and Gaur uncle. They expected some 60 people to gather, and so in terms of numbers this would have been the biggest JV shivir till then. Dad was suppose to take it, while Ransingh Mamaji and others would take care of the arrangements. I remember Ganeshji's presence there, but what role he was playing is not clear to me.

We started at 1pm from Nizammuddin station by Kalinga Utkal express. In the evening, somewhere in Madhyapradesh we met, two more people who were headed for the shivir too. It was quite exciting for me to just meet someone like this, heading for the same place, same purpose. One of them was a very old man Sindhu Chacha. He must have been over 70 then, had a long grey beard. Sindhu chacha had been in the freedom struggle along with Gandhi ji.

We all reached Pendra road next day at 11.30 am. Sadhan bhaiya, had sent a jeep for us, but with the extra two passengers and also our more than expected luggage it was not possible for all of us to travel in jeep together. Amarkantak was still 35 km away, deep in the forest and on top of the mountain. So Gaur uncle, Naresh Mamaji, and we kids (Neeraj,Kapil,Sandeep and I) decided to come by bus. Our luggage was taken by the jeep. When the bus came, it was jam packed. It happened to be some religous season, and so people from far away were coming to Amarkantak. While Gaur uncle and Naresh Mamaji managed to get in the bus, we kids went on the roof. Surprisingly they didn't object to this. That was the first sign I got from others that I was a grown up kid now. They trusted me, when it came to traveling on the roof of bus. But sadly, the driver noticed us soon, and we had to get off the bus. There was no room inside, so we decided to stay back, while Gaur uncle and Naresh Mamaji continued their journey.

Neeraj asked me if I knew the way to Amarkantak. I said, I'm not sure. No I don't. We all laughed. I was surprised. But we all laughed. There seemed no fear of getting lost in the unknown land. It seemed even the adults had no such fear, and so they left us alone. Had my mom been there, it would had a completely different situation. I was sure, if mom comes to know of it Gaur uncle and dad would have had a good taste of her mind. But that was not happening here. We were only kids left behind, in the Jungle. There were no adults to worry.

After an hour, another bus came. We got on it. Some one offered us a part of their seats. Its pretty normal in India to adjust children. The bus played the song "tum to thehre pardesi,ghar kab aaoge". I'm not sure of who the singer was, but he had Raja in his name. This song had topped the charts during those days. For the next one hour, the driver played this song. Only this song. He would rewind and play it again. It was that part of my life, where I was trying to develop a taste for English movies and songs. Listening to Hindi songs was a sign of backwardness to me. So I was probably the only one not enjoying that song, and wondering how can someone enjoy this kind of music. The fare was Rs.9 each. When we asked for the ticket, the conductor looked at us in surprise. In that part, only the government buses give tickets. This was a privately owned bus, and they see the need of giving tickets to passengers. It was only a waste of paper. It then again surprised me, but now I can understand the concept.

We reached Amarkantak after an hour. Amarkantak was no where to be seen. It seemed the bus stand had shifted out of the town. Next to us flowed the great Narmada. We started walking where everyone was going. I remembered that baba's house is opposite to the temple, from where Narmada originates. And it would not be difficult to find that place. While walking I saw somebody familiar. Dad! Hey thats dad. He had come to receive us at the bus station. I was so happy to see him. All the kids touched his feet while I hugged him. " Don't tell this to your mom, she won't like it". I smiled. We took a short-cut to baba's home. It actually was a longer route, but it was away from the road. We walked on a 'pag-dandi' (a path among the grass), all along the Narmada, to enter baba's home from the back. Everyone was there. It was a Mela.

The next 7 days I spent in the shivir. I understood nothing in the shivir, just saw people laughing and enjoying. Some would even weep quietly. I could make out, the shivir was a hit, but still didn't know why.

We returned home in June. After two months my dad died. He was suffering from cancer.