Money Matters

Money does grow on trees. In a way. And those that wish money grew on trees would do a lot better if they learned a thing or two about growing trees. Growing a tree is just like managing an investment. A lot depends on what one does at the very beginning. It's all in the basics. First up, one needs to make up one's mind what fruit one wants from the tree. Some trees bear fruits earlier than others, so one needs to be clear if you need the fruit in the very next season or you are okay waiting a few seasons or in fact you are looking at leaving the fruits for your next generation to enjoy. Ain't no good planting a mango tree and hoping for oranges.

Once the fruit is nailed down and you know which tree you have to plant then comes the next set of basics. One has to look for the right kind of soil, the right season and the right time of the day. When this all makes sense then one plants the sapling or the seed, waters it, puts a little fence around it and then walks away. No farmer worth his salt will sit and stare at his 'investment'. He will just let it be and find other things to do. Maybe after a month or so he may look in, check the soil, prune a few things,water it and then again walk away. He knows that if his initial decisions about the soil and the season and  the time of the day were good then the seed is doing its job and there is nothing he now needs to do.

If at all he has a role, its when something out of the ordinary has happened. If it has rained too much or hasn't rained enough, or there was a hailstorm or a heatwave or it has been exceedingly cold. He will then rush to his tree and do what he has to do. Yes, it is very likely that the severe weather took its toll on the tree and there is nothing he can do but its more likely that all is not lost yet. So he may water it or merely till the soil a bit or prune the branches or in fact, if need be, do nothing at all. There maybe times when after a severe shock, the tree looks quite dead. It has shed all its leaves and the branches are bone dry and bare. Many a person would be forgiven to just rue his luck and hack the tree down. But a good farmer would do nothing of that sort. In fact he may put in more effort, till the soil, fertilize it, pour in water. For he know that what matters in adverse conditions is how deep the roots are. If the roots are okay the tree is okay.

That is the essence of growing a tree and if all of the above has come to pass, then when the time is right the tree will bear its fruits. Not a day early, not a day late. Right on the dot. 

Unequal Equality

All men are equal in the eyes of god. But then some men think they are gods and that makes them above others. Gurgaon is full of men who think they are gods. Being god comes easy here. You need just one of the three 'p's, 'paisa', 'patronage' or 'pagalpan'.
With land being sold like it is, paisa is flowing like a river and flooding bank accounts, especially of those that never bothered to evolve and still think that honour killing is a sign of civilisation. Little wonder that these nouveau rich baboons strut around thinking they are gods.
Patronage, a hydra headed beast at best, takes on many forms. All you need is the remotest link to a politician, the police or a bureaucrat, past or present, and that gives you the license to be more than 'men', especially when it comes to any kind of rule.
And if you are one of those that neither has paisa or patronage and you still wanna be god then you can always fall back on the one thing that is natural to this region, the good ole 'aisi ki taisi' sort of 'pagalpan'. This path to being god is the preferred choice of the down and out BPO cabbies and the more down and out construction vehicle drivers.....

I have none of the three, certainly not in any measure that would make me feel like a god. And that makes me firmly a lesser man and if ever I forget my unequal equality, all I have to do is get into a car and step out on the streets. Nowhere else is the god-man divide wider than on the divider-less roads of Gurgaon. The divide stares at you, daring you, every inch of the chaotic maelstrom that passes for traffic in this city. The other day I couldn't brake in time for a rick that suddenly decided to take a left turn, right bang in the middle of my path. The traffic cop roundly dusted my knuckles. So what it was his mistake, he is a poor fellow and I should know better than to argue whose mistake it was. I ended up paying for the rick's repairs and also had to pay some 'chai pani' for the cop. A few weeks later I was patiently waiting for the lights to turn green when this massive SUV rear-ended me out of the blue. I was immediately reminded of that cop's 'rick' logic. Surely I am the 'poor' man here. So I frantically waved to the cop assured that I will get justice. The cop took one look at the Beemer, promptly saluted the unseen behind those black tints and asked me for my license !!!!!!!
Talk about unequal equality. You can never win on the streets of Gurgaon.

So now, every time I step out on these gods filled roads I take a deep breath and pray that my path is clear of all the gods and their brethren. Doesn't work all the time, but thats life.

Freedom's Struggle

A lot, if not all, that keeps us awake at night has to do with our wanting freedom from something, wanting to be liberated, be free. Many a times we simply choose to run, run away and hide. By doing so we think we are liberating ourselves. But ask any escaped convict if running away really helps. He may have escaped his cell but he is not free. He is still very much a prisoner. To be really free of his prison he needs to be free not of the cell that imprisons him but of the act that put him in the prison. His freedom therefore lies in that prison cell and he has to return there to find it.

Liberation, in that sense, is about running 'in' and not running 'out', running 'towards' and not running 'away'. This is contrary to what our instincts normally tell us to do, its contrary to what our fears, our doubts, our hopes and our desires ask us to do. They are in fact like doorkeepers who do their best to shoo us away and keep us from our freedom and therefore they need to be knocked away before we can hope to open the door to our liberation. We need to look our fears, our doubts, our hopes and our desires in the eye and then brush them aside. This is what makes being free so difficult.

Is it any wonder that so few of us are really free and liberated?

Knowledge's Worth

Adishankar was a well renowned scholar who had total mastery over the scriptures. But he was also full of himself and disdainful of others..
One day he was crossing the mighty Ganga in a small boat. Overwhelmed by the might of the river he began to recite the scriptures. The boatman listened attentively for a while and then gently asked the scholar what was he saying.
Adi, disturbed from his reverie, asked impatiently
'What are you saying, dont tell me you have never heard of the scriptures'
The boatman folded his hands and nodded his head
'Sir I am a poor illiterate boatman, what would i know of the scriptures'
'How pathetic' said the scholar, 'half your life is totally wasted if you haven't made the effort to learn the scriptures'
The boatman felt humiliated but knew his place so he quietly continued to row the boat. A little later the weather turned rough and the boat was buffeted by mighty winds and threatened to capsize. The boatman warned the scholar that they may have to swim ashore. The scholar was horrified and said he didn't know how to swim.
The boatman quietly replied
'Sir, I am afraid your whole life is wasted if you haven't made the effort to learn how to swim'

Looking for God

One night a priest heard strange noises on the roof of his temple. He was terrified.... were they ghosts, or djinns, or other evil spirits come to steal his soul, he wondered. With trembling voice he asked,
'who goes there?'
As soon as he asked the question he saw a face upside down in the window, a strange face with the glow of peace, it said,
'Sorry my dear brother if i scared you, but i am looking for camels'
The priest was astonished and angry, so he shouted back,
'Are you nuts, who told you that you can find camels on a roof???'
The man replied calmly
'The same person who told you that God can be found in a temple.' 

How the Cup was won

when sri lanka was batting we did more than a decent job for 45 over and kept them in check. But in the last 5 overs there was complete mayhem as they scored 63 runs and smashed every bowler all over the place. It was shocking to say the least. they made our attack look juvenile, even zaheer came in for a bit of stick and lost his line completely, bowling two full tosses one after the other and getting hit for a four both the times.

Anyway, the mood was quite sombre as clearly we had conceded a bit too many runs. 

Then came our innings. Malinga was all fired up and started shooting his typical toe crushes from the word go. Sehwag looked uncomfortable and poked about a bit before he was trapped plumb LBW by a relatively tame malinga special. Stunned silence. As expected Sehwag immediately asked for a review (again not even bothering to consult with sachin at the other end). The review was totally wasted as Sehwag was like dead gone. Malinga was on fire. One down with no score on the board!!!!! OMG, what was happening.... in came Gauti. mind you he hasnt been in the best on the nicks this world cup...

Sachin looked in a better nick and played a couple of delightful cover drives and managed the place the ball well. Gauti was just looking to play straight and made no efforts to score. Things slowly began to return to normal. We survived two of Malinga's overs and then he came back for what would have been the last over of his first spell.. See this one off and we all would be breathing easier. The first ball  pitched on the off and swayed a little bit more and sachin flashed at it..... a thick edge, sangakakara collected easily and we were TWO down... and malinga took off..... he ran around the field like a mad man and the other srilankans chasing him like a pack of kids let off from school early.... he thought the cup was his.... so did I.... I mean Sehwag gone, sachin gone, 31 for 2.  WTF !!!!!!!!

In walked Virat Kohli.... btw AJ finds him HOT and is nuts about him..... if looks could kill then Malinga would have been dead.... Virat, with his panju blood on fire wanted to teach malinga a lesson... straight away he swung at the next ball and met air..... there was a collective groan and malinga had this impish grin as if he was having the time of his life.... i felt sick in my stomach and wanted to throw up.... just then gauti walked up to virat and whispered a few words..... sense prevailed and we saw thru that over and thought we had seen the back of malinga for a while at least. But sangakara was upto his tricks again and gave malinga one more over !!!!! 

Things were very edgy... we were ticking along but the bowling was top class.... and it was one ball at a time.... the good part was there were two young guys at the crease and they were'nt afraid to run between the wickets and despite a tight field they managed to find the gaps and make runs... nothing sensational, nothing rash.. just a ball by ball rebuilding of the innings.... the crowd began to find its voice again and it was getting noisy. I was getting compliments for my blue hair and my drink began to taste better. The run rate was creeping up but the two were playing sensibly and rotating the strike and going after the bad balls.... and just like that hope crept back in... it still looked a steep task, but doable.

Just then it began to rain in Delhi.... big heavy drops of rain... scattered for a while and then it began to drizzle... steady and persistent... the projector guy ran to save his equipment and suddenly switched off every thing.... people were running for cover and I didnt know what to do.... manmohan was packing up but he had ordered some tandoori kababs and wanted them delivered so we waited while the others ran back home. The caterers were more interested in saving the food rather than giving manmohan his kababs.... we waited for many minutes and finally manmohan realised that his kababs werent coming and we began to walk back home.... while i was walking and getting semi soaked all I was thinking is that we need these two to hang around for another 5-10 overs. Other than Malinga, the Sri lankan attack looked tame.... even murli wasnt turning much and while there werent too many loose balls, but there werent any killers either. Virat was playing the harder of the two, going after the bowlers while gauti rotated the strike... aj was ecstatic everytime virat came on the screen and right now I was liking him a lot too... he looked like he wanted to win the cup for us.... both were doing the job for us, fingers crossed....

So I was thinking that if by the time I get to manmohan's place and these two are still batting then we are relatively safe.... if not the we are in deep shit...

I walked into the TV room and the first thing I saw was DHONI......... WTF???????? Did we loose two wickets??? what the hell is Dhoni    doing on the screen... what about Yuvi??????? I nearly had a heart attack till i saw the score... three down..... phew small mercies... dhoni obviously had promoted himself over Yuvi..... is he MAD !!!!!!!. But what the hell..... atleast Yuvi was still there   :-)

Like in the semi finals, dhoni looked edgy, his face clearly showing the tension.... gauti took an unnecessary second run and had to dive full length to get back in his crease, the throw was a mite wide else Guati would have been taking the long walk back home.... and Dhoni was livid... he stared like he wanted to kill and waved his bat menacingly at gauti..... this was not the capt COOL we all know.... and couple of overs later it was his turn, he took a single that wasnt exactly there and again the throw was wide.... he was so livid with himself that he nearly crushed his own toe with his bat as he slammed it in frustration and anger...

It was sheer jitters.... the bowling was decidedly mediocre but we were not really capitalising as much as we should have.... nonetheless the runs kept trickling in and though the runrate was creeping up it never really went out of hand... and without much ado gauti got his 50, and he looked in good nick, dhoni was calming down and both began the rebuilding act, all over again...

Sangakara tried every trick in the book, rotated the bowlers almost every other over, even brought malinga back for a couple of overs. But things were looking up for india.... Just then we got call from the lawns that it had stopped raining and the system was up and running again. So it was decided to go back to the lawns... I was very very reluctant, the last thing i wanted was to reach the lawns and realise that another wicket had fallen... i didnt want to move an inch but everybody else wanted to go. 

Back in the lawns everything was soaked and wet and COLD.... but the game was hot and happening. We reached 150... then 175.... now less than 100 runs remained and there were 105 balls to get them in... the attack was looking tame... the runs were coming and the cup looked so close that we could feel it in our hands...

Soon we were 200 and thats when we realised that gauti had slowly and quietly crept up into the late 80s ..... woah.... imagine that !!!! imaging getting his 100 and that too in a WC final.... can it ever get larger than that..... and the way these two were playing, it was a no brainer..... soon gauti was on 97..... he was looking solid and we all were set to cheer his 100... he got a loose ball, short of length, you could see his eyes light up....he swung, one mighty heave.... wanting to send into the upper stands....missed it completely and middle stump was rattled..... LAME, LAME, LAME...... as he walked back you could see him swearing.... fat lot of good that will do, u silly silly man... u had glory in your grasp and look what you did with it....

Finally in came Yuvi.... 52 runs required, 52 balls in hand.... dhoni and yuvi met in the middle and exchanged a few words.... sangakara saw a glimmer of hope and brought in three close fielders... he was going all out now.... yuvi took his guard...looking a bit tense...all fingers crossed.... will he survive the first ball.... parera knew what had happened in mohali and so he did exactly the same... a low swinging yorker.... this time yuvi got his bat in.... PHEW !!!!!, two ball later he cracked parera through midwiket for a stinging pull shot.... look who is boss now !!!!! :-)

The cat and mouse game was on..... the runs required and the balls remaining were totally hand in hand, like a honeymoon couple... 41 runs, 43 balls..... 38 runs 34 balls..... then came a massive dhoni SIX,  looked like this newly weds were heading for an early divorce !!!!!

But sangakara is a fantastic captain.... he got spinners back.... suraj randive playing his first game in the tournament.... it was a heart breaking over.... a close runout chance,,, a closer LBW review, it was all happening out there.... at the end of that over it was 30 runs and 30 balls.... goodness me.... what a game.... next over malinga was back.... he threw everything he had into that over and straight away had FOUR DOT balls..... yuvraj had no clue what to do... just hung on to his wicket for dear life.... next two ball we made 3 runs....so now it was 27 off 24...... you could have cooked rice in wankhede... it was a cauldron our there, boiling and hot...

In came Kulasekara, this was the over that had to be accounted for.... malinga had two more and we were clearly having trouble scoring off him... yuvi was facing and straight away kulasekara yorked him... yuvi got his bat in and ran for a single... the next ball Dhoni smashed him for a four!!!! the stadium erupted..... my drink, which I had not sipped for I dont know how long spilled over but who cares...!!!!! two balls later yuvi smashed him for another four..... boy these guys were having fun out in the middle..... 16 off 18... and malinga was back.... man he looked as if he wanted to eat yuvi / dhoni raw.... first ball, yorker, yuvi gets his bat in and runs for a single... dhoni at the crease.... FOUR...... FOUR..... absolute utter mayhem.... malinga cant believe it.... neither can anybody.... just MSD standing there, waving his bat and seemly saying.... you got any more of those?????  

looks like the honeymooners are headed for a divorce. 5 off 12 !!!!

Yuvi facing kulasekara, goes for a single.... 4 off 11.... one stoke away now.... dhoni at the crease.... swings his bat... connects and the ball is sailing into the stands..... SIX..... and the cup is ours....

I, a Teenager's Parent

2005

Hurricane Katrina ran through New Orleans dumping tonnes of hail & rain, sweeping the whole town away. Since then the town has slowly rebuilt itself, some say for the better, some say for worse but all agree, it just ain’t the same as it used to be.

2010

Teenager Aakanksha ran through the little Jadhav family dumping on it tonnes of ‘teenage’ hurricane stuff and sweeping it of its feet. Though all shook and chastened, the little Jadhav family is sure its better off for it, though certainly a bit grayer on the head…..  :-)

Last year AJ was a fledgling little chick trying to find her way about; this year she is all grown up & strutting her stuff, prancing about, at times confident, at times hesitant, wanting to boldly claim her place among the ‘Grown Ups’. She has a head full of thoughts & doubts and freely airs them, firing questions like so many bullets out of an AK-47…

Does God exist?

Why don’t I feel any purer when I enter a temple???

Why are dad & mom so old fashioned?

Why can’t I have a BB?

Why can’t people just leave me alone??

Why this??? Why that???...... Why?  Why?  Why??

It does get a bit much sometimes when there seem to be way too many questions and not enough effort to find their answers but on the whole we like her questioning mind and her need to seek try and seek the answers. We are sure she will find them all sooner than later.

Like with other fresh teenagers, AJ spent the whole year enthusiastically testing everything. Be it our patience, our resolve or even our love & affection for her. Be it rules, laws or conventions. Be it limits, boundaries or the thin line between the acceptable and the unacceptable. To be sure she overstepped many a times and was promptly ‘Grounded’. She even grossly overstepped a few times and burned her fingers badly, so to say. But like she summed it up herself;

1. Its been a tough year but we made it through
2. Hey, whats the big deal? We all knew this was coming. Right?
3. The worst is over
4. I have developed as a person.

We couldn’t agree more. Ditto, Ditto, Ditto. And while we are excited and fascinated with the person she is developing into, we do miss the one she is trying to leave behind.

-         the one who couldn’t wait to cuddle up and sleep with mom when dad was traveling,

-         the one who couldn’t stop chatting, her little stories never running out,

-         the one who loved to share everything and didn’t like keeping secrets

Well, so much for nostalgia. And as they say, nostalgia is a bit like chocolate. Great in small portions but a sure shot tummy tumbler is one goes on and on about it.

So for the time being nostalgia can go take a nap. We are keen to see what 2011 brings. 

I, the Teenager

I am just a teenager and asking me to be calm is like asking the tiger not to roar. It just won’t happen. Not that I can’t be calm, I just don’t like being calm. Being calm is so grown up and I don’t want to be grown up. The calmest person I know is so old that just having a cup of tea is an effort for him. So what’s the big deal in his being calm, heck if he wasn’t being clam he would tire himself flat out within an hour of getting up. But I do wonder if he was just as calm when he was my age. I think not.

It not that teenagers can’t be calm, a friend of mine is calm person. Almost infuriatingly calm and guess what, she does seem better off for it. That’s what really gets me. She never gets involved in the bitching and the fights and all that emotional rona dhona that is such a routine part of my day. She manages to always find a spot where she can be on her own and watch all the fun. Mind you, it’s not that she a loner, she just manages not to get involved. She is a part of us and yet not be a part of us at the same time. How she does that I don’t know.

Mom and Dad keep telling me I need to be calm and I keep telling them to chill. I think both are asking the other to do exactly the same thing. I see my dad fly off the handle when I am being difficult but if only he chills a bit then I won’t have to be so difficult all the time. It the same with Mom. It’s just that she spouts instead of flying off the handle and to tell you the truth I dread that as much I dread Dad going ballistic. I keep telling myself that I will stop being difficult but its very difficult not to be difficult if you are scared of something all the time. Most of the time I am so scared of not doing the wrong thing that I end up doing just that. I know that fear and calm don’t mix at all. If one is in the room than the other is out of the window. Unfortunately, fear rarely leaves my room. I wish it did, than I think I won’t have much trouble being calm

I keep thinking all the time. It seems it’s impossible for me not to be thinking of something or the other. I keep thinking of what someone said or something someone did and I just can’t seem to be able to put things to rest. I get so tired of thinking that I end up doing the most deadend things just to keep my mind off thinking. Like watching the same sitcom the hundredth time or listening to the same music the thousandth time or reading Harry Potter for the millionth time. By the way I wish my dad knew why I did these dead end things. I don’t do these things because I like doing them, I do these things so I don’t end up having to think. It’s my escape mechanism. I really think that if I can stop thinking all the time I will end up being calm.

I worry a lot too. I worry about things that are important to me. They may seem silly things to be worried about but to me they are not silly, they are real. Mom and Dad keep telling me I don’t worry enough about the future. My teachers tell me the same thing. Oh Boy, are they all wrong or what? I worry about the future. The point is I don’t know what my future is and I do worry about that but I worry about the present more. I can see the present and its not making much sense to me. I think its okay to worry more about things that you can see than things you can’t see. I think it’s quite simple really.

Another thing that is big with me right now is what I call the fish in the bowl syndrome. I feel like one. Its like I am been watched all the time, being judged all the time. Its very distressing having eyes on you all the time. Watching and judging, watching and judging, tick tok, tick tok, relentlessly. And that to many many eyes and all sorts of eyes. Mom’s, dad’s, their mom’s and their dad’s, teacher’s, neighbour’s, random stranger’s but worst of all my friend’s and all the people I rather not be watched by. With so many eyes watching and judging can you imagine how difficult simple things can get. Simple things like how am I looking at any moment, or what am I saying, or what am I wearing. That’s why having the right kind of phone in my hands is a big thing with me right now. If no one was watching I rather not have a phone at all. I don’t get it why Dad and Mom don’t get such a simple thing.

So finally here is my take on why I am not a calm person. I am being watched and judged all the time and that worries me a lot. When I worry I get restless. When I am restless it means I am thinking. And when am thinking its usually about who is watching me and how are they judging me.

Is this what they mean when they tell you, 'Dude, stop chasing your own tail????????'

The Simple Path

I once asked a friend the path to eternal happiness. She related an old buddhist mantra.

If you want to be happy for a minute, sing.

If you want to be happy for an hour, take a nap.

If you want to be happy for a day, go fishing.

If you want to be happy for a month, get married.

If you want to be happy for a year, win a lottery.

If you want to be happy for a lifetime, make others happy.

But if you want eternal happiness. Know Yourself.

....

TwinPeak Series - 6th Note: The Sound of 100,000 Horses

As we ascended up the mountains our camps got progressively cramped and crowded, we rarely found any plain grounds therefore most of our camps were on narrow ridges or in shallow niches. One night we camped right below a massive ice-fall which was several kms wide and several kms high. It was simply massive. Our camp was pitched diagonally opposite the ice-fall on the left lateral moraine of its glacier. So while technically we were literally at its feet but because of the intervening glacier which was a few hundred feet below us we were totally safe from any of its avalanches or ice falls. It was a lovely spot to camp.

When our guide had first pointed out the camp site to us we stared at him in total disbelief. Forget space for five odd tents, there didn't seem to be any place even to park our kits. It was just boulders, rocks and stones. But there was a trickling stream nearby and that's it. Fresh water was at hand and the rest would have to take care of itself. So all of us spent the next hour carving space for our tents, we heaved and hoed and dug out entrenched boulders, removed the rocks, scattered the stones and patted the ground with our feet. Slowly and laboriously we created five plain surfaces, barely large enough to fit the tents and barely plain enough to give us a sense that we weren't sleeping on a bed of stones.

So there it was, a camp site where none existed just an hour ago. With due respect to the old adage, where there is a will there is a sleeping place.

Once the tents were up we sent a few porters to collect water from the trickling stream and the rest of us sat back and enjoyed the view of the glorious Rataban Ice Fall spread out in front for us like an IMAX cinema screen. As we chatted we wondered if we would see an avalanche and as if on que, just a few minutes later, a large overhanging shelf of ice dislodged itself and tumbled down the ice face, hundreds of tonnes of ice and snow hurtling down in a true blue avalanche. It was awe inspiring as well as frightening, but what I remember the most about the avalanche was the sound. It was like nothing I had ever heard before, a thunder, a roar, so profound, so loud, so booming that it seemed to come from all sides all at once, a 360 degree sound. A sound that not just crashed into you but also seemed to shake the very earth beneath your feet. A sound so piercing that it not only jangled your nerves but stirred your whole being till your head was swimming and you could barely keep your balance. Stunned into total inaction we stood and watched. The avalanche lasted no more than a minute, but for several minutes afterwards we stayed stunned.

When words fail to describe an experience the mind automatically searches for images it immediately remembered the time my grandmother used to tell us stories of the epic battle at Kurukshetra. She would describe the moment that epic battle began and the two armies, consisting of several thousand horses and elephants, thundered towards each other. She used to say the sound of the armies hurtling towards each other was heard in all the 'tino lok' (the three worlds).

After hearing the avalanche, I got an sense of what it must have sounded like, these two armies hurtling towards each other. The sound of 100,000 stampeding horses, I would like to call it.

TwinPeak Series - 5th Note: Rites of Passage

I cant sleep all that well once I am above 4000 meters. So I am up and out of my tent while it is still dark, well before anybody else. That's fine by me, I like sitting all alone, soaking in the sights and sounds of the mighty mountains all around me. The hour or so that I spend in this solitude thoroughly energises me for the travails of the day ahead.

The next person to stir out in the open would invariably be our guide, an ageing wizened Sherpa. The first thing he would do is look towards the east and offer his salutation to the Sun. The Sun wouldn't be visible for a while yet but its aura would already be doing its magic on the cliffs around us. Having bowed to the Sun the guide would dig into his pockets and pull out a joss stick. He would then search for a perch, a large rock, or a boulder, overlooking the direction in which we were planning to head during the day. Once he found the perch he would formally light the joss stick, point it towards our path, bow low and plant the joss stick firmly on the perch, all the while whispering a prayer asking the mountains to let us pass smoothly.

We all know that here we are totally at the mercy of these mountains. You cant take them on. Reinhold Messner has said it so eloquently "Mountains are not fair or unfair, they are just dangerous". The guide knew this, so the first thing he did every morning was to seek their blessing. Seek their permission to pass. Thankfully, the mountains heard him every single day and let us pass without any major setbacks.

TwinPeak Series - 4th Note: Making the most of what is given

The first few nights we camped well below the snow line. So during these nights we always found ample driftwood to enjoy a few hours of a very welcome campfire. As soon as the tents were secured, the porters would begin building a fire and as soon as it was ready all of us would troop out of out tents and jostle for space around it. It was wonderful to warm ourselves and each of us would try and manoeuvre ourselves as close to the fire as possible, our hands splayed out in front of us, our faces craning froward.

While all of us sat facing the fire, I was amused to note that the porters would often squat facing away from the fire, their backs jostling for the warmth with the same intensity as our hands and our faces. You see, for a porter his back is everything. An aching back effectively means he is out of a job. So he knows that when it comes to getting the most out of a limited warming opportunity, he would rather warm his back than his hands or his face.

TwinPeak Series - 3rd Note: Its all about timing

Valley of Flowers has such an aura among the outdoorsy crowd. There are as many stories about its beauty, its grandeur, as there are visitors. So I was quite excited about finally paying a visit to this famed valley on my way up to Bhyunder Khal.

Just like Hemkund Sahib, its equally famed neighbour, the Valley of Flowers too is closed to visitors during the winter months and it formally reopens on 1st of June. The entry to the valley is through a tiny checkpost just ahead of Ghangaria. So having camped overnight at Ghangaria, we reached the checkpost early next morning. It was May 30th, a day before the formal opening. We however has special permission to enter the valley early so we were waved on without much further ado.

After crossing the checkpost one follows a rather well marked path up and down the mountain which is quite steep at times. After almost an hour of more or less continuous climbing one eventually reaches the head of the valley. This is the point from which one can see the entire valley open in front of you in a huge V, the banks of the opposing mountains stunningly converted into a lush carpet of flowers. It is said that through out the season the flowering changes every two weeks, so every two weeks the stunning carpet is relaid, awash with new colours, new patterns, new beauty. They say the view is simply mesmerising.

Maybe so, but I do feel that the 'over-the-top' description may be a bit euphoric simply because of the effort one has put into trekking up to the head of the valley. I mean one is all huffing, puffing, sweaty and hot, limbs are aching, throat is parched and what not. One has seen nothing but scraggy brown mountains for the last one hour and suddenly one's eye falls on this carpet of flowers. No wonder the mind goes ballistic.

Anyway, lets come to our effort, it was ditto till we reached the head of the valley. We were huffing, puffing, sweaty and hot. Our limbs were aching, our throats were dry. We had seen nothing but scraggy brown mountains for the past hour and our now finally our eyes fell on the immense valley in front of us.....

But as we stood there our eyes fell not on a riot of colours but on a carpet of green shrubs. It was too early in the season for the flowers to bloom. Some change of the plot... eh?????

Heartbroken but otherwise just as tired and achy, I remembered what one of my teachers often said...... "Effort is not everything, timing is equally critical for success"

Unfortunately for us, our timing was off by atleast a week or ten days.   

TwinPeak Series - 2nd Note: Morning Blues (or, the lack of them !!)

On our way up we stayed overnight at an ashram in Rishikesh. It was a very peaceful place. There were a bunch of buildings on either side of a wide path that lead to a short flight of stairs that took you straight into the Ganges. Despite a late night I was up at 5 in the morning feeling well rested and fresh. So I decided to explore the ashram. 

I was hoping it would be too early for anybody else so I could be just by myself but the moment I stepped out I saw many people already up and about, some were meditating under a giant peepul tree, others were on their way to the ganges for a dip, some were already on their way back. There was a group besides a small shrine right next to the stairs, singing bhajans softly and melodiously. 

As I walked towards the Ganges, a gentle wind caressed my face, as if a divine hand was touching me, blessing me. I took a deep breath and stood still for a moment. I wonder if you have heard the sound of vocal silence. There were myriad sounds, the ganga was gurgling, the peepul leaves were rattling in the wind, one could hear the strains of the singing wafting about, there was the soft chatter of the pilgrims yet somehow despite all these there was a sense of silence all around. A sense of calm, a hiatus, as if the world was at standstill, yet to wake up. 

Just then I heard behind me a giggle. Two kids, the girl was no more than 10, protectively holding on to the hand of the boy who was a few years younger, were walking purposefully towards the Ganga sharing some private joke. I let them overtake me and silently observed them; they looked so alive, so full of life, so full of energy and purpose. Never have I seen little kids so alive so early in the morning. My thoughts went to my daughter and how difficult it was to wake her up in the morning for school. How she wangled every minute, how she dilly dallied for as long as she could. And here we have kids half her age fresh and chirpy atleast an hour before I would even begin to wake my daughter.


I put it all down to the amazing energy of the place……

TwinPeak Series - 1st Note: Call of the mountain

It happened all over gain, that familiar restlessness, that need to don the boots and strike out on a narrow ledge somewhere high up. The mountains were beckoning and I was a willing listener....

The old trekking group regrouped, made ambitious plans and began the preps in earnest. This was was going to be less of a trek and more of a proper expedition, it was going to be longer, higher, steeper and narrower than we had ever done before. We planned to cross not one but two high passes, traverse not one but three valleys, walk along and among several glaciers, trudge thru miles upon miles of ice / snow fields, camp on narrow snowbound ridges and face blasting winds that would freeze us in sub-zero temperatures. The fact that we were taking on all this willingly and happily didn't quite make any sense to all those that I spoke to about my plans, so I stopped speaking about it... just put in all my energies in getting into top shape.

Normally we do things like clock work, schedules are maintained, we leave on time, arrive on time, start things on time and more often than not finish them on time too.... but this time things were a bit different, one of the chaps was late in coming so we left Delhi 2 hours behind schedule, things compounded and we were very late in reaching Rishikesh for the night halt, next morning the trend continued and we were eventually stopped at Joshimath. It was nightfall and we weren't allowed to drive any more. That meant that we would have stay the night here and travel to Govindghat in the morning. So the early morning start of the expedition was ruled out, all we could aim for now was to hopefully start by 9 am, and even that would need us to really push things in the morning. Next morning we were really at it, pushing things, getting stuff started but something kept happening and minutes kept slipping... the 9am deadline came and went. I kept looking at the watch and wondering why. It was only a little before 10 am that we eventually looked all set to go. The porters had loaded up, the team was all assembled and ready, all we now had to do was walk across the bridge and trek up the steep slope on the other side towards Ghangaria. In two days the Hemkund Sahib Gurudwara would formally open after the long winter break and we were hoping to beat the pilgrim crowds by going past Ghangaria by nightfall. Already the Gurudwara at Govindghat was jam packed with pre season pilgrims and we had to weave our way past the gurudwara gate and then onto the bridge to get to the other side of alaknanda. This was technically the beginning of the trek and as we did a quick headcount and found a member missing. We immediately patched him on the wireless and it turned out he had met someone near the Gurudwara and would join us in 10 mins. I was amused, that naughtly djinn was at it again, leaking away our minutes. I looked skyward and wondered why couldnt we keep to the time.

Just then I heard a commotion across the bridge and instantly I knew why all these delays had happened. The Guru Granth Sahib at Hemkund would be moved down to Gobindghat every winter and two days before the season opened it would be taken back up to Hemkund Sahib in a impressive procession. What I saw crossing the bridge was the beginning of that procession. First came a jathedar sprinkling holy water, purifying the path, then came the nihangs and the resplendant guards, then the young acolytes, followed by the conch blowers and the air was rent with the chant of 'bole so nihal, sat sri akal', then came the bearers of the guru di sawari, chanting the mesmerising 'wahe guru, wahe guru', one of them was carrying the granth on his head, as he passed me I bowed my head in silent thanks. To me it was all very clear. This was a sign, my path ahead had been blessed by a most potent force. All of us were destined too begin our venture in the wake of the guru granth sahib.

No wonder there was a spring in my step and a warm feeling in my heart as I began the trek.