Eeyyuuu Oh ho O O O!
System hangs; once again the virtual memory is low 
Recycle bin farts while temporary files overflow
Mind is blocked, bandwidth is clogged
Connection timed out, where the hell is F5 lost!
Tech support says purge the idle din but I can’t say no!
Ctrl+Alt+Del … Restart! Let me go!
It’s easy to get carried away by the waves. I can float as much as I desire. But the waves might not take me to where I want to go. Even worse, I might find myself brought ashore an island inhabited by cannibals or get trapped into a whirlpool. The colorful underwater world can be alluring. I can sink as low into the sea as I want to. But I might sink too far and hit the rock bottom.
In the midst of the roaring and restless seas I need to be tranquil and aware of my purpose. I might have to choose to flow for a while or go deeper or may be I’ll have to swim against the tide. When I know my purpose … I’ll always have my choices and I’ll find my way towards it. The seemingly intimidating ocean won’t be able to enforce its dictates. I might get lured or forced away from my purpose occasionally. The mermaids or pirates may have a temporary victory. But till the time there’s even a slightest flicker of my purpose in me, I’ll always return. And, like every reunion I’ll come back with much more intensity. It’s a magical fire within me. My acknowledgement of my purpose keeps this fire ablaze and my every act towards my purpose acts as a fuel for it.
It was during the vacations of class XIth when I made friends with Bunny. I was staying over with my cousins and that’s where he used to reside. We struck an instant chemistry and became very good friends. My cousin used to tease me that he seems to have a crush on me. Their remarks never bugged me because I had become excessively fond of him as well.
I never had so much fun as I had during that wonderful fortnight. He was ever so jovial and warm. From morning till midnight we used to be together, my cousins, Bunny and myself. We had one hell of a gang! Those were the only vacations when I used to wake up at dawn because Bunny always insisted on a morning jog. Life was always full of fun and action with him. His constant playful demands didn’t leave any scope for a dull moment in our lives. I was happy. Besides I used to feel a certain sense of security whenever he was with us. We used to roam around the town almost the entire day creating some racket or the other and dare anyone take a chance on us! Nah! Not while Bunny is with us.
Those were the days…
Like all good stories our story was also about to take a turn. The vacations were about to get over. Bunny and me had become too attached to each other. He would never leave my side and his preference towards me above others was evident. On the penultimate day of my stay I was highly restless, I didn’t knew how to tell him that we were to be separated for a long time. I couldn’t gather the courage and slept with an upset heart. I can’t remember what I had eaten that night that the next day I woke up with an upset stomach.
It was 4:30 in the morning when I made my first trip to the lavatory. Everyone was sleeping but Bunny, who woke up instantly to attend to the ailing me. Though incapable of helping me in anyway he never left my side. He would follow me till the lavatory door whenever I had to run to answer a convulsion in my tummy. Then he would come back with me and lie down by the side of my bed.
My aunt gave me some medicine but I couldn’t catch the planned train. Despite my situation I was glad to have gained some extra moments with Bunny. His gloominess and concern for my suffering was touching. He was normally a compulsive foodie but that day he didn’t even touch anything till I was fit enough to have tea and biscuits.
In one uncontrollably vulnerable moment he came up to my bed and lay down beside me. His love was so pure that I did the only right thing to do…I cuddled him up.
*Sigh*
I had to leave by the evening train, my school was to open the next day. I didn’t have the courage to say good-bye to him. My heart felt like it will burst with emotions; I didn’t want him to see my tear filled eyes. I knew he wouldn’t let me go. I sneaked out of house while he wasn’t watching and left for Delhi.
His agony when he realized what had happened is beyond description. Shattered with my betrayal and slyness he kept barking the whole day. My dear, my pet, my puppy Bunny! Oh! How much I will always miss your unconditional love and regret my betrayal!
Epilogue
I returned a few months later with a resolve to undo my wrongdoing. I was sure that he’d forgive me and once again lick my feet or bite my fingers like he used to. But it was too late by then. An irresponsible visitor had left the main gate open one day and Bunny went out on the road unattended. My cousins kept looking for him for days but never got any clue as to what happened to him. Maybe he was kidnapped or got lost or perhaps got…killed. Life made me pay a heavy price for my irresponsible deed; it didn’t let me have a second chance.
More the life accelerates, more I enjoy pausing it. Not that I don’t like the fast paced life, on the contrary I quite enjoy the thrill of being on the speedway. But, I refuse to be pushed around in the mad rush. I prefer hopping in and out of it at my own will. I need my time out right when I want it, my time to stare out of the window and do nothing. Except, perhaps sip a cup of coffee like I am doing right now while sitting in this café near my office. I’ve been lazing around for more than an hour now but I still don’t feel like going back to work. The view of the park and the busy market is not what I am seeing. I am looking through this window into the memories of sitting at the window seat at Gesmo Restaurant in Leh and feasting on Pasta, Pizza Margherita, and Momos. What scrumptious food you get there! Not to forget the Watermelon juice which you never get there but is still publicized as the day’s special! There wasn’t a single time that I visited Gesmo and didn’t trouble the server Kumar Thapa, asking him to either bring the proclaimed nectar or erase its name from the chalkboard announcing the day’s specials. Every time he would come up with an innovative excuse, perhaps he was clever enough to know that I used to kid him just to kill time. Upon my last visit he came up to our table and before even presenting the menu he told me that he had specially brought Watermelons for me from a distant market but they were all rotten by then as I didn’t drop by for so many days! Well! That was some good humored time in Leh and I am missing it badly.
It was the fourth day of the journey and probably the longest day in terms of kilometers we traveled. After a comfortable night at Jispa we set forth for a journey of about 330kms to Leh. By the time we reached Darcha, me and Mohan were drowned in our mutual interest of songs. The only mutually exclusive bit was our singing-skills, Mohan sings very well. I was humming along nonetheless till I was rendered speechless by the 10km long stretch of Zingzing Bar and the stunning view of Zanskar ranges. Perhaps in the times before time some mystical artist toppled and spilled his color palette and that’s how the place got painted in a riot of colors. The dazed state of mind of the artist took the shape of clouds and it still floats over these mountains.
I was brought back from the dreamy ecstasy (only partially) when we reached Baralacha La which is at an altitude of about 16500ft. We stopped for a bit to take photos, shoot videos, chat up with travelers from either directions, and to make home-like sculptures from stones following the belief that it’ll make our wishes come true.
Then followed the treacherously risky road to Sarchu, which acts as a boundary between Lahaul and Ladakh. From a distance the road seems to be smooth and lures the enthusiastic driver into speeding up. This road that has been known to have caused several bike accidents and even deaths packages unexpected sudden dips. One of our team mates almost landed into a mishap here. He was riding alone and speeding very fast when he hit a dip and was thrown upwards and lost all control of the bike for a few precious seconds. It was almost a miracle that he landed back on the bike seat with his hands on the handle and the bike still moving upright. He was thoroughly shaken and hit by AMS by the time we all got together at Sarchu.
From here I was to join our team leader Tribhuvan on his bike. Mohan handed over the pillion-responsibility and informed him that “ye to paagal si hi ho gayi thi” (”She had almost lost it“) recalling my euphoria at the beauty of Zingzing Bar. Soon our Karizma was zipping past the Lingti Plains and further towards Gatta Loops. Gatta Loops is the name given to the 21 hair pin bends on the uphill road that takes you to Nakee La at an altitude of 16000ft. After Nakee La we reached Whiskey Nallah. Apparently a truck carrying whiskey once upturned here and that’s how this place got such an interesting name. Within a few minutes we had crossed the third pass of the day, Lachalang La(16500ft).
It had been quite a tiring day and we halted for a tea break at Pang. We had already crossed three passes and one more was left. The frequently varying altitude was quite taxing but none of us wanted to spend a chilly night in the tents at Pang so we got back on the road. Crossing the heavy traffic of trucks we got into Morey Plains, a stretch of 45kms at an altitude of 15500ft with a desolate yet astonishing landscape on either sides of the road. Tribhuvan was revving up the engine to his heart’s content and both of us were in-sync with the bike for a thrilling ride across the plains towards the fourth pass of the day. Tanglang La at an altitude of 17500ft is world’s third highest motorable road. Past that the road gets slightly easy as you traverse the towns of Rumtse, Gya, Upshi, Karu, and Shea to reach Leh.
Sun was about to go down when we crossed Morey Plains and started ascended towards Tanglang La. The speedy ride had leveraged our spirits and perhaps it was some kind of a high that Tribhuvan was feeling when he…stood up on the bike! Picture this…riding a bike while standing, that too not on an ordinary road but a rocky climb at the speed of roughly 60kph!
I felt like an exclamation mark personified… “Woha!”
Then he sat back and said, “You can try that too”
I couldn’t believe my ears “What!”
“Yes, hold my shoulders and stand up on the foot rests”
“You really think so!” I was thinking of how clumsy I had been at the start of the trip while climbing and getting off the bike. Now what he was suggesting was…well… thrilling!
“You sure we wont loose the balance”
“Ya! Ya! Don’t worry!” he prompted.
And then…
I took a deep breath,
Prepared myself,
Held his shoulders
And…
Stood up!
<silence>
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Standing on the edge of Titanic with Leonardo Dicaprio holding you is nothing when compared to how I felt while standing on a fast moving bike up on a rocky climb with the sun going down and the wind engulfing me in a heavenly landscape!
<more silence>
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More…later…
Tourism is about sight seeing; While travel is about people and places.
A tourist visits and a traveler connects.
With a stroke of luck I got the opportunity to travel to the land of many passes…Ladakh. “La” means “Pass” in English while “Dakh” means “Land”; as learnt from a tourist guide Snyin. I met Snyin while hanging around the Thiksey monastery. He was enthusiastically guiding an apparently equally eager party of tourists from Calgary. A few of them were trying to take in Snyin’s descriptions of the history and special features of the monastery that was set up in the 14th century, but most of them were either busy taking photos or yawning. I couldn’t have let Snyin’s enthusiasm and know-how go underutilized and having befriended him I flooded him with my curious questions about…
…the 15 meters tall golden statue of Buddha
…the Lamokhang temple where only men are allowed to enter
…Kangyur i.e. Buddha’s teachings and Stangyur i.e. comments on Buddha’s teachings; stored in a library inside the monastery
…the deities inside the Temple of the Protectors which are kept covered so that the visitors don’t mistake them for evil ones due to their fierce portrayals
…and much more!
It was nice making friends with Snyin.
Talking of friends reminds me of the first day in Leh…
It was a Sunday morning and we girls set out on what girls are infamous for…shopping! The market near our hotel was lined up with shops selling silvery jewellery, souvenirs, clothes, and lots more to seize a tourist’s fancy. Roaming about the colorful shops and mostly window-shopping (yet haggling) we entered one of the many Tibetan markets ran by refugees under a large tent.
There were several people selling all sorts of junk jewellery, prayer-flags, singing bowls and several other Buddhist and Tibetan souvenirs. I liked some bracelets that a young guy was selling. Driven partly by a wish to take back gifts for friends in Delhi but mostly by my own fetish for junk jewellery I got down to selecting a few good ones.
The young shopkeeper was assisting me with his specialist’s remarks on the beads and strings and each one’s uniqueness. His comments aimed at helping me choose (as many as possible) were multiplying with my usual confusion whenever faced with short listing stuff. Nevertheless, it had become an interesting conversation and in my nomadic good humor I was enjoying it.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Gama! What’s yours?”
“Priyanka”
“Priyanka Chopra?!”
And, we both had a good laugh.
Then he started telling me about his sister who can make these bracelets, his home in Tibet and that he would soon return, and how less he had sold in the past few days.
“But, today is even bad. Today, no bohni.”
“Don’t worry about bohni, give me a good price and you have your bohni!” I suggested.
By then I had my heart set on a bracelet that had “Om Mani Padme Hum” inscribed on it… the mantra of Chenrezi, the mantra of compassion.
After further haggling the deal was fixed and I went to borrow some money from Monika as I had left my purse in the hotel. When I returned Gama placed a beautiful white pouch with golden embroidery and a beaded string in my hands. I was pleasantly surprised.
“This is a gift for you. You are my first friend in Leh. … I like you!”
I was both happy and surprised. I was amused by the contrast between his innocent expression and the guile of his occupation of selling goods at double the price. I was touched all the same.
“Thanks! You are very nice!” I was all smiles.
Gama, Snyin and more…I made many more friends in Leh. Will write more soon…
Claim 1 - A person can never express his/her idea absolutely.
The fraction of the idea that gets expressed is limited by the medium of expression. This occurs essentially due to presence of friction in all mediums. The only medium that lacks friction is vacuum but it doesn’t support expression.
Claim 2 -The interpretation of an expression will vary for all receivers.
This variance happens because the analytical powers of receivers depend on their own unique combination of circumstances, conditioning, and inherent nature.
Claim 3 - Each receiver will interpret the same expression in a different manner at different points in time.
This claim is a direct corollary of Claim 2. As circumstances are known to vary with time hence the critical combination affecting analytical skills also becomes a function of time.
Tehelka Hindi is my first design project for a Hindi website and it feels great to know that it’s being appreciated across the industry. Launched in October, Tehelka Hindi has already secured a respectable place for itself in the Hindi reading community on the web.
The i4d magazine showcased the newly launched site in their October-2007 issue, praising Tehelka’s attempt to introduce a whole new set of readers to investigative journalism.
The online version of the article from i4d magazine can be found here >>
However the site is doing much more than expanding the outreach of the hard-hitting content from the Tehelka magazine. There are regular columns by veterans of Hindi literature such as Prabhash Joshi, Ashok Chkradhar, Aalok Pauranik, Prasoon Joshi and Anupam Mishra. The site also promotes fresh talent and provides a window for the lighter side of our crew’s literary ingenuity.
Working behind the scenes for the site is a small yet power packed team of three musketeers - Sanjay Dubey, Atul Chaurasia, and Vikas Bahuguna; supported by Vijay Vardhan, the programmer, me the designer, and the invaluable impetus from Tehelka magazine’s editorial. I think it’s commendable that this bare-minimum system is churning out fresh content almost daily.
Zeal and effort is being met with constant lauding; a popular blog “Visfot” recently contrasted our site with NDTV’s newly launched beta version of “Khabar” stating that that Tehelka Hindi’s presentation is far ahead and much more appealing.
My objective was to design an elegant and contemporary look to go with the feel of Hindi fonts and so far the feedback that I’ve received has resonated with my target.
