Thank you for making our childhood special - obituary for Amit Wagle

May 29th, 2010 began as any other harmless day. In fact it was like that till I received a call from one of dear friends. Two minutes later I was in a state of shock. I could not believe what my friend just told me. How could this happen. Why him? A million thoughts came streaming in and I felt completely overwhelmed by the moment.

On the fateful day, Amit Wagle, one of my oldest friends, had a seizure attack and died on-the-spot in a mumbai local train. He was a year or so elder to me.

Amit and I used to stay in the same lane of our colony 'Saraswati Baug' in Jogeshwari, Mumbai. Infact, our houses were opposite each others. As kids from the same colony we regularly bumped into each other. I very distinctly remember our first meeting. We were, I believe, six or seven years old then, we met for the first time on a green patch of land opposite rasika's house. Mangesh wagle (lovingly referred to as mangu) his distant cousin was also there. The three of us decided to start a cricket team. But before, we could start we argued on who would captain this team (smile). Since, mangu was the youngest, he was asked to chose between Amit and I. Surprisingly, mangesh chose me. Amit sulked for a bit and ordered a re-election. He even wanted to drag his blood-brother sumit to cast a vote as sumit would surely vouch for him. But since sumit didn't want to be a part of this cricket team, we argued that his vote didn't count. So the cricket team was formed with three members. Irrespective of this not-so-auspicious start, it kick-started a warm friendship that was to last next 24 years and endured every conceivable sport from cricket, soccer, hand-tennis, carrom, chess, cards to even paper-boat competitions, and, every conceivable weather condition from playing under noon sun, to torrential downpour and even under flood lights.

Initially, we played under-arm cricket below shardul's house and some of my most pleasant memories are associated with that time. We played cricket daily and the routine was as fixed as say brushing teeth or taking a shower. Every day after school, we'd show up at the same place. There was no need to invite anybody (except occasionally during exam times, when parents didn't share our enthusiasm towards the game). We were joined by satesh and shardul sometimes. Sriram Kini would occasionally join us but always as the umpire (with his stark clean white kurta and pair of spectacles, sriram definitely 'looked' his part). But, cricket we played, with all our heart. Amit, mangu and I played fierce cricket. We used to compete like our lives depended on it. But at the end of the game, we would put our arms around each other and merrily talked gibberish. It was friendship at its best.

As we grew, we decided to join the colony elder's team (rakesh rane, umesh asgaonkar, chaitanya diwekar, tejesh rane, tejas sakholkar etc.). The three of us played with the colony elder's for a while, but, didn't like the treatment meted to us. So, we decided to split and form our own team. It was a big decision as it meant not being allowed to play on the colony's biggest patch of cricket ground. I very distinctly remember the acrimonious split. We had each paid ten rupees to be a part of the elder's team. When we left, we demanded our money back. I remember being given one rupee sixty paise back then (smile). Ah! those were the days.

Amit, mangu and I decided to form our own cricket team. And we chose the patch of land, opposite simit bagwe's house. We added Dhiraj sharma, Rahul Pandey and Shahil to our team. Thereafter, chirag shah and Siddarth kini joined us. We played many matches on the Ismail cricket ground with this team. Initially, the prize money for the match with teams from neighboring colonies was a princely sum of 3.50 rupees (the then prize of a rubber cricket ball). The prize money slowly increased to tens and fifties. We won many a matches and with it a lot of money too. At one point, the Sangli vaibhav cricket team owed us 110 rupees, which was a lot those days. We defeated both the Mangalya team and the Dena bank team in their own backyards.

Then we added mangesh naik, abhishek dhume, sachin thakur and devendra thakur to our team. Simit bagwe and viraj kasbekar joined us towards the end of the decade. As the team grew in strength, we moved to a patch of land opposite, simit bagwe's house to the main patch before babu sir's house. It was our time in the sun. We relaid the cricket pitch and organized a cricket tournament for the first time. It was a big achievement for us and especially the three who had started a team by bickering over captaincy (smile).

All, this while amit played with a unwavering dedication to the team. For the first decade, he was the vice-captain of the team. He opened the batting and was a safe fielder, and, with his long legs an asset in the deep. As the team grew in strength, younger members over-shadowed him. Rather, more vocal and ambitious members over-shadowed him. He never argued and rarely voiced his opinion in team meetings in a forceful way. As a result, he got increasingly side-lined with regard to responsibilities. But he never missed a match and as a captain, I could always bank upon him to give his 100 percent. He dearly loved the team and i remember many a passionate discussions on the composition of the team and strategy to be adopted for the matches with him. The juniors called him 'Wagle ki duniya' (in line with a popular tele-serial) or Amti-dumpty, but, he always took it in the spirit it was meant.

Amit and I shared a bonhomie that is difficult to put into words. We were not soul friends or anything like that, in the sense, we didn't discuss family, girlfriends or kept secrets with each other. But, we stayed together through thick and thin. We supported each other on the field and in a way, it was difficult to imagine a game without both of us. As we grew older, I became more close to some of the newer team members, but we never lost the friendship we had.

After I left mumbai, we sporadically kept in touch through the net. But whenever we used to meet, it used to be like I never had gone away. I kept meeting him increasingly less frequently as my mumbai visits reduced to a trickle. The team had disbanded since i left, and, amit had not made any new friends since then. Every time, we met, we talked about our good ol'days of how good a time we had. And great time we really had!!

When not playing cricket, amit played with his toy red-bus and some toy-cars he had. He infact had engineered a small cement slope so that his bus/cars could come up the drive-way and park. He was pretty nifty in making paper-planes and boats too. And during rainy season, he could make boats pretty much out of anything - paper, tree leaves or whatever he could get his hands on.

Occasions were a feast. Especially, diwali, holi and ganpati festival. During ganpati festival, we used to have a highly competitive carrom tournament. And amit was very good in carrom. I remember, he was first one amongst us to have a 'champion board' (a tournament-sized board with extra smooth surface) and we used to practice on the champion board for hours, rehearsing every shot, every angle we might encounter in a match situation. The day the tournament draw was to be put up was a highly eventful day and met with much anxiety. We all sat together for ganpati aartis and danced merrily at the ganpati immersion. The whole team always traveled together. For example, for laxmi poojan at North kanara GSB bank, the entire team would march together to have samosas and gold-spot. This trend stayed even when our team size increased to 20 but we still went together like we were glued together.

Around the whole of last week of december, saraswati baug used to organise stage-plays (marathi nataks). So a huge pandal used to be erected in the centre of the cricket ground and one marathi play used to be enacted daily at night after dinnertime. The entire colony used to congregate and for our team, it just meant spending more time together. We used to sit together, and, in the interval break, amit used to reserve our seats while we fetched warm wada-pavs and tea to go with the chilly decemeber nights. Amit rarely ate outside food, so, he used to reserve our seats for us while we wolfed down the wada-pavs.

Two decades is a long time to have a bagful of memories. If those two decades coincided with the best part of your childhood then you can safely multiply the count of memories by a couple of hundreds. Each of my special childhood memories, whether be it cricket match victories, carrom matches, december night outings at nataks, playing with toy-cars, laxmi-poojan at NKGSB bank to occasions like diwali/holi/ganpati festival had Amit in it. It is impossible for me to seperate amit and my childhood!

My whole childhood flashed in front of my eyes when I heard the tragic news. His age is not an age you associate with dying. Oh God! why him??? A chance to lead a 'full' life was the least he deserved!!

Winds of Change

Time flies. I remember we use to have this ritual in school where every day one of us was responsible for writing a proverb or a famous quote on the top of the black board. Many a quotes zoomed by without, I doubt, any of us paying any serious attention. But, of late, the quotes have come alive… a la matrix like green code zipping down my memory screen. ‘Change is the only constant in life’, ‘Health is Wealth’, ‘Try and Try till you succeed’, ‘you cannot shake hands with a clenched fist’… well u get the picture.

Last six-seven months have seen a change like no other. Left the job. Opted for an entrepreneurial life-style by starting my own company. Got married. Left the bachelor pad to a settled ‘grahasti’ mode. Sold my beloved bike. The list goes on. Needless to say, Change has been the only constant in my life. And the work-life has ensured that every other proverb or quote I ever came across (especially some in lousy chain emails) got a chance to prove their validity (almost as-if to mock me ... saying.. ‘See I always made sense’ (smile)).

Well, the highlight was clearly the marriage. Marriage was, typically, hectic. But, it was a fairly elegant affair and was just the way I wanted it (minus the shoshaa). I enjoyed most of the rituals and some I thought were repetitive. The panditji of-course didn’t endorse my viewpoint. I had pre-decided that I will enjoy the occasion and not be overwhelmed by ‘spotlight-on-me’ syndrome, and, luckily I did just that. I could enjoy the occasion a trifle more as the parents seemed to enjoy it too. The one lesson I learnt during the occasion was the importance of getting both set of families on board. In love-marriages, when families initially see conflict, it is easiest to either overlook their concern and do your own thing, or, totally drop the plan. Both approaches lead to significant stress later. A middle approach of persisting till everybody comes on board and happily too, is the best approach and though this is the hardest and seems impossible at a point, it is the only one which will lead to lasting satisfaction. Trust me on this one! I didn’t know this but was luckily course-corrected at the right juncture by a wise-man.

Post-marriage, the proverbs/quotes in school were not the only one which came back to me after a ‘lost in eternity’ phase. The history textbook went all ‘live’ on me, when I went to Egypt for my honeymoon. Somehow, history has always fascinated me more than any other subject. In fact, I would go as far to say that History is equivalent to ‘Tests’ in cricket – timeless and sublime, while science and math are more like ‘one day’ and ‘T20’ versions delving on spontaneity and thrill. So I was saying history really fascinates me (sometimes I act like Calvin – super distracted). Coming back to history and Egypt, my choice of Egypt for the honeymoon destination was met with surprise, ridicule, awe and sometimes even ignorance. History thrives on memories and this once-in-a-lifetime trip just had to have the backdrop of history to transcend the experience to a ‘memorable’ status. Beautiful location and Privacy are apparently two most cited reasons for choice of a honeymoon location, but, I refuse to believe that those are the only two… history has its own charm and can be beautifully romantic too (smile). I know some of you must be feeling for my poor wife (smile).

We had a great time in Egypt (somehow this had to be the next line after what I said in the previous line). We seriously did. Apparently, there are few things money can buy (twisting a popular ‘MasterCard’ slogan... to make a proverb ...keeping around the central theme...you know). So we experienced - The pyramids, the cruise on the Nile, the city of Alexandria, the temples of Luxor and Aswan… Cleopatra stories…the eye-achingly green Mediterranean sea …papyrus… mummies... in short…I m high on Egypt!! The food was up and down (lived mostly of falafels and shwarmas) but for those who would enjoy the ‘thrill of exploring’ as opposed to sitting inside and staring at the ceiling fan or watching television, I thoroughly enjoyed the place…and by the looks of it…my wife enjoyed it too (I swear.. it does look like that (smile)).

The only grouse, and a minor one I had at that, was the gargantuan tipping culture prevalent in Egypt. The country’s economy derives a substantial portion of its revenues from tourism I hear, but that still is no excuse for ‘asking’ for baksheesh for every service rendered. But barring the tipping issue, and one freak incident, where a security guard at the Cairo airport refused to give us our passports without baksheesh, I would say the trip was excellent and truly memorable.

Post-honeymoon, it was all about settling down, both on personal front and professional front. And last six months, I did just that. Recently, a friend of mine asked me why don’t write my blog anymore. And I realized that I had totally forgotten about it. When I read the last few of my blogs, I realized that my life was so different then. The office-home routine, the bachelor-pad existence, junking on bike… time surely flies!!

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Sunday Morning is an event in itself. There is no set pattern of things to follow - and this little fact has the potential of spiraling your life in chaos. A friend called - even before i could get up from my bed. 'Morning' he chirped from the other end. My mind caught up to that word and I started thinking why people have stopped saying 'Good Morning' and opted for just 'Morning'. Does it cost to add a 'Good' in front of your morning? Or maybe by saying 'Good Morning' you are assuming that the other person is actually having a Good morning and the truth may be contrary, and you don't want to be presumptuous? Or maybe in the age of fast food, SMS and Twenty-20, you are just running short of time and want to clip the Good out of the morning!! My mind began to spin with so many thoughts competing for attention (all this thinking while my friend was presumably talking something important at the other end). I secretly blamed the Sunday morning for it. If it was any other day, I would have a set plan to follow and that in turn would have made me more attentive - for would it?

The phone call over, time for some good ol' chai and newspaper routine. One thing I really love about Sunday Mornings - is the newspaper. Nowadays, it is almost the size of a small book (I wonder how come nobody has filed a Public Interest Litigation for the amount of trees they demolish for making one newspaper out of it) - but it is entertaining nonetheless. The editorials and the HT Brunch are usually nice read. Today, HT brunch has the 'Twitter Phenomena' on its cover. Twitter or the microblogging concept is the latest craze that has seemed to catch everyone's attention. On reading the article, I felt, that blogs like mine have now become equivalent to Test Cricket whose fate is being debated in light of the latest onslaught of T-20 version of blogging. Some old wisecrack might soon ominously comment - there is scope for both formats to co-exist peacefully (smile)!!!

The first thing I noticed about the article on Twitter is the slang that it seems to have developed - like a language of its own. For instance, tweets for microblogs or twitterati (people most followed on twitter ? i guess). The article also made a unfavourable reference to its networking cousins - Facebook and Orkut. According to that article, to be on Twitter, and be followed by other people - your opinion should be respected - and that can come only from being of a slightly older (or read as wiser) age-group. I don't think the parents of Twitter would like this sort of classification (tantamount to repelling the young crowd - which in 'Young India' (sic), would be nothing less than sacrilige). I don't think the article got it right. Methinks tweets are as good as their cousins. What Mallika sherawat or Priyanka chopra did for the day - is 'not' infinitely wiser than selling vegetables using farmville on Facebook (smile).

I am a little confused with the options available for social networking. Though I haven't explored any one in detail, and, my knowledge about each is as undercooked as any for a reasonable opinion, I wonder whether any of these serves any role other than entertainment. It is for this reason that I am a little wary of starting out on Twitter, lest it meets the fate of my Facebook account. Let me explain. When I first joined Orkut, I thot it was fun. I could actually meet people from forgotten eras and it was fun till it lasted. Then, the orkut msges became increasingly clipped - 'Long time no hear' types. Then Facebook came along. Though i signed up for a Facebook account, i never really warmed up to it. I had already made the connections during the Orkut phase and reinventing the wheel with Facebook seemed too laborious. Plus uploading the pics on both and writing what i am upto at this precise moment didn't seem worth it. Ohh, I am aware that i don't have a clue as to what fun things that can done on Facebook - opening fortune cookies for instance, or, knowing how good my hindi is, based on some survey questions. Yes, i can live without that sort of fun in my life. So, I will hold off inundating my opinions on helpless souls on twitter, at least for the time being.

Time to read the next article - it is about MNS and Raj Thakre and Bombay/Mumbai debate. This sort of news really spoils my mood (meaning turns 'Good Morning' into just Morning). I think there is a simple way to deal with the problem of states like Maharashtra. The magic way is surprisingly through taxes. In the US, the taxes are classified into a State Tax and a Federal Tax. Here, we have just one lumped component. Whatever tax money is generated, it goes straight to the central government, which then distributes the money to all the states. So, the states which are not doing well, have no incentive to do better - as in they will get money anyways. Whereas the star performing states are penalised. If the existing tax system is broken down into a State Tax component and Central Government tax component, then the money generated from the people working in the state goes to the state itself. Raj Thakre or any other politician would not have any reason to complain about north indians and would infact invite peope to come as it would mean more money for the state. Other states would also be nudged to do better as they would have to create an infrastructure that keeps people in their own state. So it is a win-win situation for all. It looks like a surprisingly simple solution for our problems and one that is already employed in the US. I dont know why we are offended to take precedence from the US. We borrowed heavily in each sphere from the UK. Why not think of solutions to our problems from other nations too? And we could take only the Good. For instance, we are better off staying away from the Social Security System in the US or the healthcare system in the UK - as we can now see - that they are counterbeneficial in the long run. But the Good things we can employ. We already borrow liberally from Hollywood (Amitabh Bachchan, Aamir Khan have gone on record spouting anger on mention of Bollywood and maintained that it should be 'Hindi Cinema', methinks, first stop copying on a consistent basis and ppl will call you Hindi Cinema (smile)). So, back to borrowing the Good, I think we can try to see whether such a system can benefit us and infact encourage our states to do better.

Too much thinking for a Sunday morning. I decide to give up the newspaper and switch on the television. What do i see. No it is not National Geographic. But it is a good guess. The television is beaming pictures of 'Rakhi Sawant'. She seems to be man-handling a child. I wonder who entrusted their child to her. I switch channels - guess what - it is Rakhi Sawant's mom being booted off Big Boss. I switch off the TV set. I infact make the effort of putting a dust cover on the TV set, so that i can wipe off the images from my mind. Did U2 's Bono have this Sunday in mind when he sang - Sunday, Bloody Sunday??

Been There, Done That – Ladakh Diary – I

In the movie ‘Dasvidaniya’, Vinay Pathak makes a list of “Things of do before death” and proceeds to tick off each item on the list en route to certain death. The 2007 Hollywood release ‘Bucket List’, starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman, echoes similar sentiments. Though the movies are strictly average, I was curious of what my list would look like. "I don’t need to wait till I face certain death to start making my own list" – was my logic (Its amazing how I can justify everything I want to do with crystal clear erroneous logic). I decided to make the list. At the outset, I decided not to restrict myself to ten or any such number and categorize items under sub-headings, such as – ‘Must travel places’, ‘Must eat food’, ‘Must experience thrill’ and there was a random category – simply labeled - 'Must Experience' (included all things that I couldn’t categorize under one sub-heading, for example – switching from Windows to Mac laptop or experience climbing the pyramids in Egypt or even experiencing the Hammam in Turkey).

The Must travel places had two sections – India and abroad (I hate being managerial even in fun activities… it’s sick… but I think it’s too late to change myself now). The India section had some very interesting names – Wayanad in Kerala for instance, where you could climb up a mechanically pulled plank (equivalent of an elevator) to reach a machaan/tree-house almost 60 feet high and overlooking the adjoining forest (wow) or the swampland - Sunderbans on the Eastern border (infested with the man-eating tigers). Leh, Ladakh - like all things associated with region – was perched high and mighty in the list. Somehow, this place has been the bugbear for many. I know so many people who forever want to visit the place and never make it. Almost everybody wants to go there on a motorcycle. So did yours truly (‘yours truly’ is such an outdated phrase with a Dickensian feel to it, it should be banned).

Leh the capital city of Ladakh is something else. For one the altitude is unlike anything you would experience in any part of India. Second, it is accessible only during a narrow window in a year, again unlike most places in India. Third, if you are a motorcycle enthusiast, then the preparation is unlike... well……it's different.

I wanted to do the Delhi-Leh trip on a motorcycle – and what better than Royal Enfield ‘Thunderbird’ to give me company. I checked out the time it would take to reach Leh from Delhi (Both Delhi-Manali-Leh route and Delhi-Srinagar-Leh route) and found out that the 900+ km odd journey would roughly take 2½ days to 3 days. After that, riding the motorcycle from Leh to Khardungla en route to Nubra Valley would take another 2 days (335 – 375 km round trip), to and fro from Pangong Lake (340 km round trip) would take another 2 days, one day spent probably local sightseeing in Leh and 3 days back – so in all it would take a minimum of 11 days of non-stop riding in hilly terrain, along some of the most dangerous but divinely beautiful routes. It was exhilarating, no doubt. This time I didn’t bother to ask my friends to join me. I knew the plan would never take-off with the ‘more the merrier’ paradigm. So I tried to find trip organizers who arrange for motorcycle enthusiasts to travel in groups. Alas, their charge was too much. One such Delhi trip organizer plans a 15 day extravaganza, and the charge without the bike rental is 35000 INR ‘only’ (and with the bike rental it goes up to a cool 50k). The organizers were definitely out. So it meant either shelving the plan altogether or going alone. Now, going on solo trips, is nothing new to me. Ya, been there done that, but this was different. This was not some ordinary trip. I didn’t know the routes, didn’t know what to take with me, didn't even know what problems I might encounter or anything of this sort. It looked like I would have to shelve the plan. But luckily, I met this guy, who had traveled with 5 of his closest buddies to Leh only last year. And like in the mythological serials, he said “thatastu, all your questions will be answered. Just log onto w, w, w bcmtouring.com” and off he went…poof…vanished into thin air (super-exaggeration is good for health, I was told by my doting grandmother).

http://www.bcmtouring.com/travel-guides/ladakh-travel-guide/index.html

BCM stands for bikes, cars, and motorcycles and it is truly an awesome website, especially for planning a trip to Ladakh. Research the above website thoroughly and believe me it will answer all your questions (and I have no stake in the website). It has all the skinny on distances, routes, tips on motorcycle-maintenance, information about high-altitude sickness and medicines to counter the same, and stuff like that. So, I started preparing myself. I have a Pulsar 150, which is gr8 bike but I really wanted to do this on the Enfield Thunderbird.(Inset picture: Royal Enfield "Thunderbird")
I decided to first learn the mechanics of bike maintenance – changing the spare tire (this little maneuver itself requires you to carry so much equipment – a small hand pump, spare tubes etc.), setting the chain, replacing a snapped clutch wire and so on and so forth. While I was deep into this, I happened to chance upon this guy again (reappeared from thin air). And he said in true mythological serial-style “Vatsa, don’t do this alone”. And he vanished again. He is one mythical character, I’ll tell you. Almost everybody I met from thereon echoed the same sentiment - 11 days of traveling alone would be tough – the motorcycle will guaranteed break down and I would have to lug it up and down the slopes to faraway mechanic garages, which doing alone would be an effort.

Anyways, attempts of trying to find a gang to tag along were turning futile - 11 days of nonstop riding was proving to be decisive in the “yes/no” calculations. In the end, I was back to square one. Then somebody suggested that I could go by air from Delhi to Leh and do all the crazy riding in Leh. I pooh-poohed the idea, as it meant I would miss the Rohtang pass and most importantly the incredibly scenic Keylong pass on the Manali highway en route to Leh. But coming to think of it, this would save me 6 days, I could still rent the bike, and an Enfield “Thunderbird” at that, and take it to Khardungla (the highest motorable road in the world) and the images I had seen of the Pangong Lake had told me that enough magical beauty awaited me in Leh. In hindsight, this was the best decision I made. Agreed, I missed the beauty of the Manali highway (I did cover some part of the equally beautiful Srinagar highway….more on this later), but what I saw in Leh and the amount of back-breaking riding I did while in Leh, I think in hindsight it was an awesome decision.

So I went to Leh from Delhi, aboard a Kingfisher flight. It takes barely an hour or something like that to reach there. The Leh Kushok Bakula Rimpochee airport at the altitude of ~11000 feet is one of the highest in the world. As soon as you alight, you can almost feel the stare of the imposing ‘light brown mountain range’ (Inset picture: Mountain range welcomes you to Leh)

The weather was pleasant and I didn’t need a jacket or anything. ‘Welcome to Leh’ screamed a nearby hoarding. Finally, I was here and I could almost feel the goose-bumps. I took a pre-paid taxi to the main market. (Somehow, this is always the best bet when you arrive in a city – pre-paid taxi to the main market). I reached at around 8 in the morning and the city was just waking up to tourists. I had a list of possible accommodation options so I decided to try them one by one. Almost all of them were full. Not a great start. A local suggested that I should try the Changspa area as it has some neat options (cheaper than the rates they charged near the market) and is accessible to the main market by foot. So to Changspa I went. I checked into Larchang Guest House at around 9 where I was generously offered “Nun chai” (I was told that “Nun” is Hindi for salt, and, though I couldn’t imagine tea with salt in it, the taste was surprisingly pleasant and didn’t have any acidic after-taste of its sugary cousin). The room charges were reasonable – Rs. 400 a day.

The room had surprisingly no fans or any cooling facility. The owner ‘Shamin’ smiled back saying you wouldn’t need one here. And boy, the whole day, not once did I miss the fan or the AC. It was the most perfect weather throughout the day. If only God had been kind enough to extend his mercy a little south to extend up to Delhi/Gurgaon or even to Mumbai. (Inset pictures: Room at the Larchang Guest house)

One of my neighbors was an elderly gentleman - ‘Dilip Samuel’ who worked as a lab doctor at Steel Authority of India (SAIL) in Chattisgarh. He too had come alone (sans the wife and the kids). Both Dilip and the Shamin advised me to curb my enthusiasm and plan all activities for the next day, as the body needs to get used to the altitude. In my mind, I was thinking, “Go Captain Go” you didn’t haul up your backside all the way to Leh to sit and rest. I was yearning for the motorcycle and some quality riding time. But better sense prevailed.

Been There, Done That – Ladakh Diary – II

I utilized the day to explore the City and check on the motorcycle renting scene. Stanzin Dorjey is the owner of T.S Adventures and runs a business of renting motorcycles and cars. Stanzin informed me that I would first have to apply for a permit if I wish to go to Nubra Valley and Pangong Lake. The permit is sort of a visa allowing restricted access to some of the militarized areas. He said, he could arrange the permit for around 150 bucks (you could do this permit thing on your own and save yourselves around 50 bucks but we decided to get it done through him as a lot depended on it). The cost of renting the Enfield Thunderbird was Rs. 700 a day. Dilip didn’t know how to ride but he agreed to tag along. So we applied for the permit, and, readied ourselves to ride to Khardungla (or K-top as it is called in these parts of the world) next day.

But, to our misfortune, there was a strike in the department issuing the permit and we were told that it would take 2-3 days for the settlement. Now, this little piece of misfortune had the potential of destroying everything I had planned to do. So, when we went next day, we did not get the permit and plus we had already paid Rs. 700 as motorcycle charges for the day. So I decided to take the motorcycle for a ride in the city and see some of the local sights. It turned out to be a good decision. I had never ridden the Thunderbird before. It took me some time getting used to its raw power. And plus I had never ridden up and down nasty slopes. So the day was an excellent primer for me to get used to what I would encounter going to K-top. We took the motorcycle on the beautiful Srinagar Highway and saw some memorable vistas. The beauty was truly breathtaking. We took pit-stops to see the Kargil-Hall of Fame Museum, the Spituk Monastery, the Magnetic Hill and finally the confluence point of the rivers Indus and Zanskar near Nimu. The Magnetic Hill is a small stretch of road on the Srinagar Highway where the vehicle travels on its own without acceleration (apparently a magnetic field pulls the vehicle so that it moves even without engine power). I didn’t believe it – so I switched off the engine of the motorcycle – and swear to God the damn heavy motorcycle moved. You could also do rafting on the Zanskar. The ride was stunningly beautiful and almost everything looked surreal.(Inset pictures: Srinagar Highway, Kargil Memorial, Magnetic Hill and Indus-Zanskar confluence)
In the evening I went to Shanti Stupa and the Leh Palace. Leh Palace is pretty ordinary, but both Shanti Stupa and Leh Palace offer stunning views of the City of Leh (check the inset pictures) and if not for anything else one must visit these places for the vistas.(Inset pictures: views from Shanti Stupa and Leh Palace)
After being on the road for most of the day, we decided to end the day hoping that we get the permit at least the next day. Early morning on the next day, news filtered in that the strike was still on. And that was as bad a news we could get. But, luckily, Stanzin had pulled a minor miracle and managed to get us the permit. I really owe him for that one. So the trip to K-top was on. I quickly rushed to my room, readied the bag, put on an extra jacket (as it would get really cold at 18000 ft), carried gloves and glasses and also took medicine (such as diamox, for encountering any high altitude sickness). I was a shade worried about taking Dilip with me as he is 50+ and I wasn’t sure whether he would endure the stress of change in altitude from almost 11000 ft to 18000 ft. But endure he did. And what an achievement it was. Khardungla or the K-top is almost 45 km uphill from the City of Leh. Just 45 km! But in those 45 km, you move almost 7000 ft up. The ride is ok initially, but later on it gets tough. On one side, you have the deep valley to contend with and the other side there is landslides. So basically, the width of the road is such that only one truck can pass and you have to be extra careful on the turns which are as treacherous as any. The road gets really bad towards the last 10 km or so and you have to contend with driving on stones and gravel (while keeping your balance as toppling would mean a crash-landing of 7000 ft). Reaching the “World’s Highest motorable pass” (18,380 ft) is a moment I won’t ever forget. It was divine. Dilip somehow held up to that point, but he was in no mood to ride an extra 120 km to Nubra Valley. So we had to return. It took us roughly 5 hours to do the 90 kms and boy it was exhilarating. (inset pictures: en route to Khardungla (K-top)


Next day, we went to Pangong Lake. And that is 170 kms one way. The road is terrible and on the way, you go through Chang-la (which at 17856 ft. is the World’s third highest motorable pass), which is also known as the “Mighty Chang-la” as it is really tough to get here. The road is twice as bad as enroute to K-top and for twice as long stretches. This journey is definitely not for those with weak backs. But I have to say, that on the way, you come across stretches which words can do no justice to. Every now and then, the Indus river joins you, the dark brown mountains suddenly give away to greenest of green pastures (and you could even see Yaks grazing), and that coupled with crystal blue sky is truly heavenly. As if the build up to Pangong is not enough, the climax is fitting. Pangong lake at almost 15000 ft is as beautiful as any in the World (you could see seven shades of blue… yes ... seven... its crazy beautiful here). You could camp overnight and be fed standard lunch/dinner or maggi and chai. We just opted for the later. (inset pictures: Pangong Lake at almost 15000 ft)

Last day, in Leh, we decided to do some touristy shopping. Apricots are a rage in this part of the city. So I helped myself to some. The Pashima shawls are famous (didn’t buy them though) but the fabrics are decent and some Leh T-shirts ofcourse. The day was spent relaxing from all the riding of the previous days. In Leh, I made a lot of friends – Dilip from Chattisgarh (the discussions we had about naxal movement and Salwa Judem were fascinating), Shamin the owner of the guest house (he was my guidebook informing me about the life in Leh and his “nun chai” were the absolute best), Stanzin (the motorcycle rent guy) went out of the way to get the permit arranged, and the other “Dilip” the owner of Little Café which served the most delicious paranthas and dal-chawal-subzi-roti lunch. The people here are as good as any you would meet anywhere on the planet and that just adds to the beauty this place has to offer. All the adjectives: beautiful, magical, stunning, heavenly, breathtaking, I think, were coined with Leh in mind.

The Bad, the Good and the Ugly

Michael Jackson is no more. Sad. Period. There is nothing I could say that has not been already printed in the last few days. Well, there is something that I believe is not known much about him though. I stumbled upon it, and, it surprised the hell out of me. Michael Jackson holds a US patent to his name. Could you believe it!!!

He apparently "invented" a system for allowing a shoe wearer to lean forward beyond his center of gravity. Scientists at NASA - please take a bow. If you don't believe me - Check out the link - http://v3.espacenet.com/publicationDetails/biblio?CC=US&NR=5255452&KC=&FT=E , and, the invention featured in the music video 'Smooth Criminal' (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smooth_Criminal#Anti-gravity_lean). I have been working in the field of Intellectual Property for a while now, and, I really cannot imagine Jackson, a "Moonwalking" genius with greatness matching that of Elvis Presley and Beatles, in the mold of say, an Edison. But, boy, the world is full of surprises!

My fondest memory related to him was quite stupid actually, but, i actually derived quite a lot of fun from it. There was this 'Talent Competition for Kids' and some of my friends were performing. One of my dear friends, tried to do a break-dance jig. He tried to moonwalk, but, even Jackson would have found it difficult to moonwalk on carpet (lol). My friend tried and tried and we cheered him on, but he didn't move an inch, and then finally he Earth-walked himself off the platform. He was called "Maika-lal Jaikishen" or "Indian Jackson" after that performance.

Jackson's death apart, the other bad news for me, was India crashing out of the T20 World Cup. I really thought, we had a very good team and we could do some decent damage. But Alas, the only damage that was done.... was to us. Pakistan, winning, (and Younis grinning while Afridi saying that India was afraid to play Pakistan) just added salt to wounds. Forget Pakistan. The way we lost was disappointing to say the least. There is this camp - which is proclaiming - that Indian fans cannot take defeat in the right spirit, or, like Artherton put it - Indian fans are still immature. Damn You, Artherton, you have no clue what it is to be a Indian Fan. For ages, we have lost and there was a while, when we took defeat for granted. So dont tell us about Spirit and Losing. We know much more about either to spank your backside about it. Maybe, you English are content with inventing a game and then just forgetting about it. But, for a million Indian fans, the case is different. When an Indian team like that comes long, you want to see your time in the Sunshine. Forget Artherton too. Some people are of the opinion that Dhoni is not the one to blame. Please, when you receive a pat on your back for a good performance then a kick on the backside for not performing well, is fair enough. If he had not got out, then we would have lost the match to Bangladesh too. Infact, not only was his batting suban-allah, his wicket-keeping was below par (the missed run-out of Dwayne Bravo cost us the West Indies match) and his captaincy super-disappointing too. (I'm fast running out of adjectives here). Then there is this camp which says - the players were tired from non-stop cricket! Hello! Dhoni would have been far fitter if he was not running with Bipasha Basu in Reebok Ads, or, surfing Facebook in Aircel Ads. Coming to think of it, Indian fans really cannot take defeat well (lol). Apologies to Dhoni & Co. Please start winning again. Like in your Lays Ad - it is Dillogical - after all.

Enough of bad news. Its time for some good news. Roger Federer won (I had a sense of deja vu about this one - almost like Goran Ivansevic's victory at Wimbeldon). Kobe Bryant's Salvation with the Lakers victory in NBA was, well, a relief! Both Federer and Kobe, have removed the lingering doubts about their greatness, once and for all. I wish the same for Sachin - some match saving second innings hundreds in Tests, and, a One-day World Cup victory at home - thats all, Sachin (lol).

Finally, a quick word about me. What about me, I have been harmless, lost in my own world. With the terrible heat, traveling is out of question. I had planned to go to either Ladakh or Lucknow. Ladakh option looked awesome - the Enfield bikers trip from Delhi to Ladakh - was always a dream. Unfortunately, 14 days to go riding a bike, is not probably what my boss would think highly of. Then there was this Lucknow option. I always wanted to visit the land of Tehzeeb (culture), Mushairas (literary evenings, and far different from Mujhras) and Kebabs. But, it is roast-oven hot this time of the year, and, i dont want to end up like a kebab myself. So traveling is out of question. Therefore, I am indulging myself in some reading (currently reading 'Predicatably Irrational' - highly recommended) and swimming. I am learning to swim and boy it is not easy. Firstly, it makes you do a thing which is not natural to you - you breathe in through your mouth and exhale from your nose. Second, it is one activity, which appears terribly ungainly at first but amazingly graceful once you learn it. On my first day, me with my arms flailing about and splashing water on every next kid, wasn't very easy on the eyes. But slowly, i am getting into my groove. Michael Phelps - better watch out. What is it about the word 'Michael' - almost like the name is destined for greatness - Michael Jackson, Michael Jordan, Michael Schumacher, Michael Phelps and even Michelangelo (if i can squeeze that one in). On second thoughts - my mom should have just named me - Michael Phene!! Life would have been so much easier!

Sand, Color and Folklore - Jaisalmer & Jodhpur Diary - I

I had experienced the snow in Dalhousie, the sea in Mumbai/Goa and the hilly mountainous terrain in Dharamshala/ McLeod gang. I wanted to experience the desert, next. Somehow, I had imagined that as soon as I enter Rajasthan, I would be greeted by carpets of sand. That myth was broken while on a bike road-trip to Jaipur. But, Jaisalmer was different. There was a guaranteed promise of experiencing the desert. Why is a desert such a big deal, one may ask. Well, you’ll know the answer when you experience one. 

Since the planning was left to the last minute, I was all prepared to go alone again. But Abhishek, my colleague at work, chimed in at the time I was booking the tickets and luckily we got the last two tickets on tatkal :). We finally booked ourselves on the Delhi Jaisalmer express scheduled to depart Old Delhi at 5.45 pm and aiming to reach at 12.30 pm the next day. It actually reached at 2.45 pm (making it a 21 hour train journey). Towards the end of the journey, there is a single train track heading to Jaisalmer, so if there is train coming from the opposite direction, our train had to back till a point a station arrived where a twin track facility was provided. Considering the number of times we had to go back and forth, it is a miracle that we managed to reach Jaisalmer.   

Also, a warning to those aiming to board the train at Gurgaon - don’t even think about it. Initially we had decided to board the train at Gurgaon, but changed our mind at the last minute and boarded at Old Delhi. The stations leading from Old Delhi up to Gurgaon yielded so many daily commute passengers that soon we were in need of oxygen. Legitimate passengers, who had bought tickets and tried boarding the train at Gurgaon, could only make it till the bogey entrance. I shudder to think that I could have been one of them. Luckily, the passengers alighted as were heading out of Haryana and we literally breathed a sigh of relief. The journey was largely uneventful. Only stations worth mentioning along the way were ‘Pokaran’ (acquired fame during Nuke testing) and ‘Bawal’ (we laughed our hearts out when we saw that signboard announcing Bawal :). No offence here, it’s just funny :). 

I had read horror stories of how we would be surrounded by touts when we get down from the train at the Jaisalmer station. Luckily, we weren’t. Maybe we reached at a time, the touts were having an afternoon nap. Anyways, we hired a tata sumo, to take us to the entrance of the Jaisalmer fort. The fort of Jaisalmer is one of its kind, as it is a ‘living’ fort, meaning there are people staying inside the fort - some 6000 odd people. Plus there are hotels, motels and what not. We chose to alight at the fort entrance, because, we wanted to have a look both inside the fort and outside and settle on a decent accommodation. There is a lot of literature (most based on recommendations from the lonely planet travel-guide) as to why visitors shouldn’t stay inside the fort. I found that whole argument erroneous, as there are already 6000 people staying inside the Jaisalmer fort on a permanent basis. Ya, their postal address is actually - Jaisalmer Fort. I don’t think King Jaisal will be too pleased with so many people sharing the same address:). 

(Inset picture: Jaisalmer City - Known as the Golden City - known for its uniquely hued stones - which glisten a Golden Shine - especially in the monsoon season)

A tout smartly entered the sumo while we were inside and offered to take us to Hotel Deluxe. While on our way, he mentioned that they also offer the ‘Desert Safari’ which would start in about an hour’s time. That thing - the desert safari - starting within an hour, made us think that we didn’t have much time on hand. We had to decide on a hotel quickly. Ultimately, we decided to go with the tout to his Hotel Deluxe. There was nothing ‘Deluxe’ about the rooms. Since we had to leave for the ‘Desert Safari’ straightaway and were planning to spend the night camping in the desert, we decided not to rent a room.  Instead, we requested the tout if he could allow us to use the rooms just for half an hour so that we could freshen up and make our way to the desert. The desert safari cost us a 1000 bucks each - inclusive of 40 km cab ride to Sam (pronounced ‘Summ’) sand dunes, then a 2 km camel ride into the Thar desert, snacks and dinner at a facility in the desert plus an overnight stay in the swiss tents, then the 40 km cab ride back to the city, next morning. Considering these are on-season rates, we found the amount was reasonable (especially since we ended up not paying the room rent altogether). We decided to take the offer. Once in the room, we quickly showered and charged our cell phones and we were on our way to the desert. 

When you read about the desert, especially about the barrenness of the land and the scarcity of water in school science textbooks, it doesn’t hit you. But the starkness of it dawns slowly on you - when you experience one. The vegetation is thin, the animals are rare and human activity is almost non-existent for vast stretches of land. And what is staggering is the monotony of it all. You keep staring out of your car window and almost nothing changes. 

We made a pit-stop at what looked like the beginning of the "Thar Desert". Here, we were greeted by Micheal and Pappu. Michael and Pappu are names of the camel. Yes, camels have names too. Calm down. And no I was not surprised. Anyways, they made us sit on top of Michael. Sitting on a camel is an art in itself. Well not sitting, but staying on top, actually. The camel raises its hindlegs first and then the forelegs and that can have an affect of you being propelled forward. So you need to be careful, and stay lurched in a forward direction while it stands up. And God help you when they start racing with fellow camels or even coming down a slope with great speed. I will just say - I am not buying a camel ever. Not a good decision. (Inset pictures: Camel ride, Desert Mirage, Entertainment in the desert)

Anyways, the camel ride was good. Michael took us almost 2 kms inside the Thar Desert. We waited and watched the ‘Desert Sunset’. In between, we were approached by touts who offered to show us the place where Bollywood movies such as Refugee, Border and some other non-descript movies, were shot. Our answer was polite but firm - thanks, but no thanks:).  The Desert Sunset, was ok, it was redder and seemed to disappear quicker, or maybe that is just my imagination. Anyways, post the Desert Sunset, we were taken to a place called Thar Resorts - Desert Camp. Here we were welcomed and directed to our swiss tents. The tents were amazing. We were then asked to join a central area where a circular pandal was erected with a fireplace right in the center. We, along with fellow tourists gathered around the circular pandal. The fireplace was lit up and we were offered bhujjiyas and chai. The local musicians and dancers then put up a memorable performance and we lapped it up with our round of snacks. We were then escorted to dinner where we were offered local delicacies like Ker Sanghri and Daal Bhatti Choorma. The food, music and the dance all made for one very “Rajasthani” night and I enjoyed it thoroughly. More than the Desert Sunset, I enjoyed the Desert night sky - amazingly lit up by a million stars - truly magical. I will let the pictures doing the talking here. (Inset: Swiss tents, Inside the swiss tent, Circular pandal).

I must say, the first day in Jaisalmer - with the desert experience, the camel ride, the camping and the entertainment was truly worth going all the way.