Well this one goes back in August 2009. Stumbled upon it while going through my MS OneNote diary. Funny part is that I don’t even remember penning it down. Had to google it to make sure that it’s mine.
For a system,
We make and grind away;
We nurse our rage
And our thoughts we repress.
Memoirs and memoirs,
Mirrors and white moons,
This can’t end so soon.
Like a pendulum,
Chagrin and restless,
All in hope of being free.
An inner peace, serenades,
Something keeps you ablaze.
A stitch of fate,
A shroud of haze,
That light behind the overcast skies,
Has a tint of that peaceful glaze.
Where did you learn to let go?
This one goes years back. I happened to be in sixth standard at that time. I still clearly remember that cold January morning. My exams were going on, and as a routine I woke up to revise before appearing for it. It was chilling and I decided to pay the balcony a visit to comprehend exactly how low the temperature really was (There was no google weather in those good old days. Shiver per second was the only unit to gauge the temperature). Anyways, the real reason for me to go there was that there were new born puppies in the colony, and these cute little devils happened to be my particular area of interest.
Something was unusual that day. I couldn’t see these guys nor their mother anywhere around. After having investigated the surroundings for a while, I decided to come back to my books. Just then I heard a little cry coming from somewhere. Had to bend a little over the railing to see what it exactly was. A black pup was caught in the drain line and was helpless. It was normal for these guys to get stuck there. But unlike every other time, there mother was nowhere to be seen for rescue. And he was tired and giving up with every passing moment. His siblings surrounding him from all the side, wagging their tails, unsure of what to do. You could only imagine how that chilled water must be torturing him. I knew I had to step out, and that too without knowledge of my mother, or else thrashing was inevitable for me.
I started this year with a promise to myself that I would travel as many places as I could. It hasn’t been going exactly how it was planned but still every now and then I feel content and not guilty at wasting my weekend. Our group has split up post NITIE (quite obviously), many of the others who stayed are too busy with their office, and the rest … the rest are either getting engaged or married (Full Stop for most of the bro-outings :P).
Anyways, this fine weekend I decided to go for the Sandhan Valley trek along with an amazing set of people whom I didn’t knew. The known strangers, thanks to Mumbai Travellers. Just for the info and creating an impression that I know everything, Sandhan valley (famously know as the “Valley of Shadow” – sounds spooky isn’t it :P) is a canyon located in the Western Ghats. Starting from Mumbai via the last local, we (Me plus three strangers who bonded together to form another version of Chaai Sutta Chronicles by the end of the journey) reached the last stop, Kasara, around 3 in the morning. After a lot of efforts, our lead guide managed to gather us all together at one place and took our attendance (I felt like giving a proxy for someone but unfortunately, everyone had turned up :P).
Kasol, this is not a place. It’s an experience. And you got to experience it to believe. For all my friends who might mistake it for Kasauli, this is not Kasauli. Not by Far. Kasauli was the place where Jaadu, the alien, came over from another world. And Kasol? … Well !! Kasol is another world in itself. And we were the aliens. A bunch of aliens who landed there and didn’t want to go back. Not at any cost.
Amidst the busy professional life, a lot of plannings and disappointments, I finally got hold of a friend who was there to accompany me on this heavenly trip. A bus trip from Delhi to Bhuntar, high on life, watching movies like Dhol and Dhamaal all night log (courtesy the fabulous Bus we landed in to), with intermittent stops (temperature going down progressively), we reached Bhuntar from where another bus was supposed to take us to Kasol. But wait? Everything going planned can be so boring. Bus halted at a place called Zari, with no more ground to travel. Lord Shiva was sending down snow balls to welcome us aboard. He also sent a trolley, being driven by a guy who very much resembled “Bob Marley”, to carry the six of us (Birds of feather flock together ) to the final destination.
First of all a belated Happy Sanskranti, Lohri and Pongal to everyone. That reminds me of the scene yesterday. Sitting in the balcony we were talking somewhat like “Look at the kids nowadays, they don’t even know how to fly a kite”, “In our time we used to use the same kite again and again by fixing it up with boiled rice”, “Remember how 14th used to be the first day of the year we took bath, that too forcibly”. Conversations were going like this, until a thought struck my mind – “We are talking like oldies”, “Have we grown too old?”…. “Naaaahhhhhhhhh..Never”, my heart corrected me in a second, and gave a few loud poundings to bring me back to the reality.
God works in mysterious ways. Just when I decided to dedicate my free time to doing something productive (for at least a couple of weeks), he decided to send our maid for a holiday. And for what time duration? No points for guessing. A couple of weeks. What I visioned myself doing was making some fancy presentations, doing some R&D on latest technological innovations and polishing my LinkedIn profile. And what it turned out to be? Me doing dishes in the kitchen and debating with my flatmates on where to have dinner. Choices spoil us. When our maid was there, there were no debates like this. She was like “Here is Aaloo Gobhi and Dal for you. Deal with it.”