Weekend travel

Spiraling down the NH22 from Shimla to Chandigarh, one tries to think of anything that won't turn the stomach. One must definitely try and ignore the the musky diesel fumes. Any imagination that makes one wonder if the excess oil from the chola bhatura that was devoured for breakfast would be processed by the roundabout travel to become a petrochemical product or paraffin wax must be checked. Nor should one concern himself about the narrowness of lanes suspended on alarming precipices supporting a disproportionate number of vehicles whooshing past at high speed. Hunting for the silver linings, at such scenarios, is but a natural thing to do. Apart from noting down the places we passed through in a notepad -from Shimla to Shoghi to Kandaghat and then on to Solan and Barogh till we reached Pinjore- there were also other fine things to take note of without a dashed notepad. Travelling in hills gives unusual vantages and lightings to appreciate the landscape. A slice of orange sun here, a deep cliff there, hill ranges, fields in valleys. The diversities are sharp and the landforms are closely packed. The forested hills at times appear like sheep clothed in green wool on the northern slopes. The bushy trees uniform and fluffy, covering the hills snugly. The southern slopes are barren, the cold winds and lack of sunlight not allowing vegetation to take root.

Chandigarh, the planned city in the plains was a stark contrast. Le Corbusier's 'open hand' greeted us as we entered the UT.  Neat and spacious, spreading wide and even, it felt like the earth had freed up its muscles and was stroking the pacemen freely in mid-season form. When we are going on about pacemen and being in form, let me also state the reason for our descent to the plains. We were to play a cricket match there in the ground in Sector-16. A day-night match it was and was played enthusiastically. A spectacle of sorts for most of us, making our debut in an international ground.

Later at night, we took a stroll outside our hotel. Right opposite was CAT (central administrative tribunal). We went round the shops, crossed the lanes and kerbs and parking lots. A city that looks near perfect to the tourist, the planned modernisation, breezy traffic. An exemplar of what Indian cities could be. If we go about arranging our cities in our living room, Chandigarh would take the best shelf in hte showcase. Anyway, after the match, we could walk only for a few minutes. W eessentially only went a few paces sniffing around the CAT bulding and a few shops. After the CATwalk and banter, had a sound sleep. Woke up and made our winding way back to Shimla. To the clean and cold air again. There, in the auditorium, watched India beat Pakistan at the Eden Gardens. All that remained was to snuggle up under the sheets with a Wodehouse paperback. Right Ho! 

Some pictures of the match

On learning

Curiosity and questions scan the horizon,
for quiet observations to bring answers


We fail and try again
Fail again and laugh aloud
Lest we take ourselves seriously


A teacher offers his heartfelt lessons
and earns an enthusiastic silence

A place to thrive in

Sitting in the library surrounded by books gives a feeling of comfort. At the same time, it also stimulates the desire to read more, know more. As I was reading Rajmohan Gandhi’s ‘Mohandas’, something of the spirit of sacrifice and service that was in the book seemed to enter the surroundings momentarily. When I came back to my room, my roommates were rearranging the study tables. So I joined in. I started the exercise hesitantly. But when it was finished, it opened a new space in the room where we could study peacefully. Cut off from the beds, facing the beautiful lawn of the academy and natural light coming through the windows, it was a place that would tempt anyone to come and spend a few minutes there.

So after the arrangement was done, we all sat together and began studying. The weather was simply disarming. It rained and a moody mist engulfed the hills. The scene from the window was perfect. Study progressed slowly. The seemingly trivial task of arranging the table and chair at a good place and giving some thought to what we need and setting up the room accordingly facilitates actions such as studying or being active so much more. I don’t think I would have enjoyed the day as much had I been studying from my bed. 

View from the window

The Gangtok Girl and the Shimla Security

This story was related to me by a person who had traveled widely. Once he was travelling in Gangtok in a bus with fellow tourists. When they were coming back from a visit in the bus, one of the passengers had a bout of nausea. So the bus stopped and the person got down to puke. When he finished, the passengers realised that there was no water left with anyone in the bus. There was no shop nearby and it was night time. Just then, a little girl, aged 8 or 9 walked through. There were a few houses nearby and she probably lived in one of them. One of the passengers asked her if she could fetch some water if her house is nearby. The response she gave reflected an outlook that is precious and pure. She asked, simply, 'Warm water or cold water?'.

After a few minutes, she was standing near the person who had vomited with a jug of warm water and a glass. He took around 10 minutes to compose himself and get back to the bus. She went back to her home.


In the Mall Road of Shimla, a couple of decades ago, a prominent personality went for a stroll. He lit a cigarette as he walked. After a few steps he casually discarded on the road and walked on. The security personnel, in charge also of enforcing the cleanliness rules, saw the littering done by this famous personality. As a typical Himachali would, he walked and caught up with the famous personality and told him humbly 'Sir, you have dropped something of yours behind.' The famous person spent a moment taking in the meaning of the statement, slowly walked back, picked up his dropped cigarette and dumped it in a dustbin. Both the security and the person went their separate ways.

James Allen, in his famous work 'As a man thinketh' says 'Of all the beautiful truths pertaining to the soul which have been restored and brought to light in this age, none is more gladdening or fruitful of divine promise and confidence than this—that man is the master of thought, the moulder of character, and the maker and shaper of condition, environment, and destiny. Thought and character are one, and character can only manifest and discover itself through environment and circumstance'.

And events such as the above two, which bring together circumstance and character in a kaleidoscopic beauty, throwing light on beautiful values and their genial expressions, the human experience is momentarily lifted to a higher level of appreciation and awareness. Stories they may be or hearsay, yet they give the common mind something lofty to hold onto.

The floating moment

In the rumble and tumble of events, there are moments when a combination of external circumstance, internal serenity, absence of any lingering bitterness or future anxiety, all combine to produce moments of fine leisure. Sitting in the deck of our academy, incubated in the cool spring sun and surrounded by mature minds, my mind was floating like a butterfly sheltered in Shangri La.

   

Hanuman House

Came back home for three days. Chennai. Had forgotten how sultry and oppressive it could get here. Met many relatives. A few were designated family trolls. Smiled sheepishly at their provocations. The youngsters, of course, were the redeemers. Had good fun with them. Like the stranglehold Mrs. Tulsi keeps over Hanuman House, Mrs. S hovered over things here. Add a new element to the already spicy concoction. My wife. Although she was a mute audience in the proceedings, enduring her time stoically, conversations revolved around her and kept coming back to her. Many people, varied levels of childishness, some understanding eyes, lots of drama. Two more days to sit back and ride the roller coaster.