My Delhi!

Come, hold my hand
Let me take you through the rise of my morning
Where this world be our theater and Sun our spectator
You’ll be the music and I’ll sit upon your lips as a morning song
Together, we’ll create our happy mornings forever.

Come, hold my hand
Let me take you through the strings of my golden afternoon
Where we’ll amble in Lutyens Delhi,
gazing at colonial architecture from the times of British Empire
We’ll then rest in green oasis of Lodhi Garden, under the yellow laburnums
Escaping the gridlocked delirium of the city
Together, we’ll weave our afternoons in golden memories.

Come, hold my hand
Let me take you through the orange hues of my evening
We’ll walk on the charcoaled roads of Connaught Place, heart of Delhi
We’ll then take a stroll along the Shahjahan’s walled city
Savor the scrumptious delicacies in the alleys of Chandni Chowk,
When sun will be leaving, and minarets of Jama Maszid will have lit,
We’ll sink in the echoes of Azaan, dominating the surrounding noise.
Together, we’ll make our evening blissful and beautiful

Come, hold my hand
Let me take you through my favorite part of the day
We’ll stand near the window and behold the moon
We’ll tune into radio and listen to late night romance
We’ll dance to old numbers and do some jazz
You can read me the English translations of Rabindranath Tagore
I’ll read you verses of Amrita Pritam and Gulzar
Together, we’ll make our nights soulful.

Together, we’ll make our togetherness purposeful!

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Us!

My soul met your soul
As poet discern words for his poem
We met like torn pieces of our past
For the happiness that will forever last
The long evening walks, and purple haze
Orange hues of sunset, and your gaze
Warm hugs on winter nights
The prolonged kiss till the twilight
Soft smile of your eyes beneath your glasses
We were different than masses
Our stars were meant to meet
And become a galaxy
Our hearts were meant to meet
To become the Universe!

August Rain!

Regular office day (not near a window) seems mundane!

It’s 12’o noon and a regular day at office. Half day is passed by and few hours are left to finish her day at office. She takes her beautifully painted magenta colored coffee mug by India circus, in her hands. The warmth of the cup relieves her from chilling office cubicle. Rain pours down from the sky, and mist covers the window by her seat as she sips her favorite rose green tea. She isn’t fond of green tea but she isn’t fond of masala tea or coffee either.

She looks out of the window from the 12^th floor of her office building. She sees a man running in the rain. She sees a bunch of colleagues going to the famous sutta corner of cyber hub. She sees a sari clad girl walking slow, taking each step carefully and protecting her saree from getting spoiled in rain. Soon her mind wanders in her own world and she is drifted to her thoughts.

Thoughts that come rushing to her every now and then. Though she works in a big MNC and she is always surrounded by lot of people around her but she still feels lonely. She escapes from eyes of her colleagues and start scribing something in her notebook. No one knows her habit of scribing. No one ever noticed. At least she thought so. Unaware of the fact that there is always someone watching you and admiring you for who you are.

She keeps her mug down and picks up her pen. She is fond of pens. Those fancy pens that flow as smooth as butter on paper. Every time she visits a stationary shop, she admire at the shine of those fancy pens but their price leave her crestfallen. The one she is holding is a regular smooth flow ball pen. She likes it too but someday she wish to buy one of those fancy pens.

She stares at blank paper of her thin spiral notepad, the one that employees get at office and a check on count of it for an employee is kept. She stares at the blank paper for a long time, the noise, the people, and everything around her has come to a standstill for her and she starts writing something on it. There are no thoughts in her mind just her pen and pain; and she starts scribing whatever comes to her mind. Most of the times her writing comes that way. It just come from nowhere and makes a perfect sense to her, describing her solace.

She leans down and keeps her head on her left hand on which she is wearing her father’s Fossil watch that has her father’s initials inscribed on it. She is a watch lover too. No, she doesn’t like fancy watches but she is fond of simple watches made by watchmakers. She wishes to wear world’s best watchmakers’ watches on her hand. She watches her hand flowing on the paper and writing words. The curves of words gives her immense pleasure. These words and curves belong to her, she thinks. Her love for writing is from her childhood days that started from first poem which she wrote for her mother. She had a flair for creating verses but travelling made her a story teller. She now enjoys creating and writing stories. She tries to find stories in every moment, in every person she meets.

When she is wrapped in the blanket of her thoughts and spilling out words from her mind, there’s a guy sitting right across her seat and watching her. He is a shy guy from a different state with a different language but the same fire for travelling is burning in his heart as hers. He doesn’t know if she too is fond of travelling but he is swayed by her simplicity, her cotton kurtas and bindi that sticks between her bushy raw eyebrows.

Watch this section to know what unfolds in their lives.

My acquaintance with the language of Csoma!

Well, I wonder how many of you can understand the title of my post. 🙂 Frankly speaking, few months ago I could not have pronounced this name ‘Csoma’ properly lest know him. This is the magic of learning a new language. This post is about my journey of learning Hungarian language and the way it changed me a little, little by little.

I had no reasons to join this language course except for the fact that I was free and so was this course. Hell yeah! Sounds weird? Of course in today’s time a free language course sounds fishy. Why would they do that? Don’t they have enough students to learn their language? Or maybe nobody wants to learn Hungarian. Questions like this were banging in my head when a friend of mine helped me in getting enrolled for the course. My stars can’t thank him enough for this gesture of him. I hope he reads this. 🙂 Okay, so my first class which happened after around five days of the commencement of the course. Sigh! I hope you understand the pain of missing a language class, that too the elementary part, like missing Ka,Kha,Ga of Hindi class.  Chuck! I was trying to be funny. Okay, so coming back to my first class, as I entered the class, I was shocked to see around hundred students (of all age group). Like students more than my father’s age. I liked it instantly. Prior to this, and I must admit that to my reluctance, my father and I learned Italian together. He somehow couldn’t give his exam but this made me know him better and his zeal for learning something new along with his struggles of remembering things. Anyway, coming back to the first class again (I have this habit of deviating from main topic) 😛 So, amidst all the students who were attending class from first day, I found myself lost in the pronunciation of the ‘magyar ábécé’ (Hungarian ABC). After that I wasn’t very regular with the classes but I kept trying learning it, missing some part, and then again picking it up from the next lesson. I didn’t made much friends at that time, I didn’t talk to anybody much. I came, attended the class, and went home. I don’t know that even after all this irregularity what kept me glued to this class.

So apart from my irregularities of classes, I was always regular at least with the events organized by Hungarian Cultural Centre. I hope the cultural people don’t read it. hiding face in palms I love exploring places, meeting new people, knowing about their culture. So attending events was like satiating my soul by knowing about their culture through powerpoint presentations, their music, songs and dance. And then of course snacks followed by events was like ‘icing on the cake’. Food makes a Punjabi happy! 😀  I have been to many events organized by various embassies but I found people here at this embassy very grounded and humble. Always smiling, talking to everybody, clicking pictures together and yes how can I forget mentioning Mr.Wilhelm’s (the director) wife preparing finger licking Hungarian delicacies for us. I mean who does that?

Okay, so this went on for two months and after that I didn’t attend a single class for around one and a half month. I messaged our professor that because of my father’s health I will not be able to attend the classes for some time. Meanwhile lot of things happened at cultural center. The venue for class got shifted, the cultural center shifted to the embassy.

When everything got settled at my home, I rejoined the classes. Everything was changed this time. From hundred students to just fifteen were left. Now, I started talking to fellow students. They helped me in coping up with the syllabus. Tanár (teacher) helped me in understanding the lessons that I missed. Events were not happening much but this time I became almost (I was still missing some classes) regular with the classes. I now knew what kept me glued to this course and not leave it in between. It was because of our professor Ms.Margit Köves. Her patience and sweetness encouraged me to keep attending the classes. Wondering how? Well, as I said that I wasn’t regular with the classes so I didn’t know much of the things in the class but then she was always patient and never scolded me for not knowing the things. This motivated me to put more efforts to understand the things. She is from Hungary. No, I absolutely didn’t want to point out that she is not an Indian teacher. winks 😀 You got my point right! Right?

I also want to mention names of few fellow students whom I grew fond of and will miss them. Ramesh ji, legöregebb student of our class, he always reminded me of my father and our times together in Italian class. Gopal Ji, legvidámabb (most cheerful) student of our class who always made us laugh with his wittiness. Inderjeet,  úriember (gentleman) of all students who always made efforts to arrange food. wide smile Food makes me happy! Anjali, legfiatalabb (youngest) student of our class. She is also a student of Italian at Delhi University. Aman, a sportember(sportsman) who was always keen on learning. Sen ji, our fondness over Tagore connected us well and he found his forty years old friend from his school days who happens to be my neighbor. World is so small! Prashant ji, who was always keen on sharing knowledge of his field with me. Then there were Karan, Vinay, Manoj, Indraneel, Rehan, Sukhvinder ji, Vasundhra, Nisha and Divya(I hope I remember her name properly) who I didn’t talk too much but then it was a lot fun with all.

Now all those questions that wandered in my mind about free classes were answered or may be at least I understood them better. So conducting free classes is their way of promoting their language and connecting with people. What a noble thought! Human connection is something that today’s man craves for. We hook up to our smart phones for hours but we don’t like talking to or making connections with the person sitting next to us. I’m glad that I got an opportunity to join this course that not only opened up my mind and tuned it to accept the culture of another country but also made me rejoice the human connections with all the fellow students and our dear professor.

Oh! And I almost forgot to tell about Csoma, pronounced as ‘Choma’. Sándor Csoma de Kőrös was a philologist and the author of first Tibetan-English dictionary and grammar book. He was called ‘the foreign pupil’ in Tibet and was given the title of Bodhisattva by Japan in 1933. His journey in the Himalayas has intrigued me and I’m keen on learning advance level of Hungarian.

Beautiful Goodbyes!

I want to grow old with you
I want to die lying in your arms
I want to grow old with you
I want to be looking in your eyes
I want to be there for you, sharing everything you do
I want to grow old with you

Her phone played this song from her playlist when she was struggling to concentrate on her studies. Her mind wandered back to the day when she shared this song with him. Good old days! It was just five months ago when Kabir confessed his love for her. She had thought herself as the luckiest girl on this planet. Showing him her favorite things, reading to him her favorite stories and poems, going to her favorite restaurants, eating her favorite food, making him listen to her favorite songs; she showed him her naked soul. It was the first time she opened up that much with anybody. Though they started on a condition but soon that condition seemed like a past and he himself said, “Zafu, every time I meet you I get more attached to you. Just the thought of us not being together frightens me. I just want us to be together forever. I love you!”. “I love you beyond this universe”, she would say back. Whenever he used to think of separation, his eyes would be filled with tears. Zafirah was strong but one thing she couldn’t do was to see her loved ones crying. She used to hold his hands and say, “hey! I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. Okay? And I’m going to stay forever, till eternity. We will wait for each other’s parents to agree to it. Okay?”. She meant it, every single word. She knew her parents will never allow her to do this but she has always been like this. She knew what she wanted in life. Kabir was more than her wish. Kabir was her life. She once told him, “Kabi, within very less time you have become as important to me as my parents”.

In spite of all this togetherness and happiness, there was one thing that constantly kept her worried. She was elder to him by six years. It’s just six hears, she would say to herself. Kabir will take care of it. Trust him, believe him. Within last six months she has indulged herself in lot of self-talking.  She was a rebel from heart and she always thought of doing things differently. She has led her life on her own terms with the principles and values given to her by her family, her father and mother.

Amidst all this there came a very tough time on her and her family. Kabir was there, all the time. She grew more close to her. From good morning messages to goodnight kisses, they shared each and every moment of their day with each other. They were irresistible! She hated going to malls but she planned her every meeting with him in a mall thinking it’s him who is important and not the place. She had travelled world on her own. Her favorite place was amidst mountains. She always dreamt of having a small house there. But she thought she could live anywhere on this earth as far as Kabi is with her. She was ready to sacrifice her dreams for him.

It was different now.  They had decided to part ways. Kabir’s mother didn’t agree to their relationship and he wanted to end it. She was broken! She kept quiet. She didn’t say anything to him. Just two words, “I understand!”. Actually, there were things which she never understood. Not that why his mother didn’t agree or why he ended it but something else. It was something else that disturbed her.

After few days of last call, he finally called her up to meet him last one time. Reluctantly, she got ready because she herself wanted this to end on a sweet note. She wanted to keep good memories of this relationship. She knew that Kabir had already moved on and she was a girl who would never force anyone to stay in her life. She was loving, humble and kind but she was also very stubborn.

Finally, they met at a restaurant in CP. No holding hands, no hugs, no kisses; just a formal hello. Hiding her tears behind her smile, she asked him about his family and he asked her about her parents. There was an awkward silence. She still thought that Kabir would hold her hand and say “Zafu, let’s run away. Everything will be alright after some time”. This was just her thought. Kabir then broke the silence by saying that “I’m sorry. I feel guilty”. His voice wasn’t trembling. There were no tears rolling down from his eyes. Her mind drifted to his words which he said few weeks back with tears filled in his eyes. She was confused. Her heart was in a dilemma of trusting to what he said earlier or what he was saying now. She had been a good listener always. She kept listening to him. He just had one thing to say that we started on a condition. Condition, that if our parents will agree then only we will get married. She had lot to say but she wasn’t able to bring words out of her mouth. She kept listening. When Kabir was done saying whatever he wanted to say. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, “But ma never met me, Kabi. My age cannot make me less good or less kind. My age cannot make me a bad person. You could have at least made her meet me. This way I would have thought that you made efforts to keep the relationship. You moved on very easily. I once told you that I was like a bridge on the river that stayed and you were like a passenger who crossed that bridge. My words were true. I loved you, Kabi. And a part of me will always love you.”

She then asked him if she could drop him to the metro station for one last time. He agreed to it. Before he could get off from car, she released her seat belt, turned towards Kabi, gave him a tight hug, kissed him and said I love you. She wanted to cry out loud but she controlled herself. He stepped out of the car, came near window and said “I loved you too. I’m sorry”.

It was a beautiful goodbye for her. Unfortunately, it was just in her mind. He never called her up to meet. He never made an effort to at least protect the friendship they shared. I’m standing by my words even after you are gone.  I once promised you to give my words and I’m doing it even when you didn’t stand up to your promises.

 

 

Art of sharing

Lately, I’ve learned that everything we do is an art. There’s art in sleeping, talking, speaking, walking and in every action that we do. I’ve also come to believe that each of us as a human being is a piece of art in itself, created by the Supreme power. And we all are beautiful in our own way, irrespective of our shape, color and caste.

Of all the arts, I loved “Art of sharing” the most. I call it an art because it is not less than any art. It just not comes like this. Like all other arts, one needs to practice this art. Sharing may be anything; knowledge, time, money, food, just anything. In the process of sharing, you might feel hurt or betrayed. Don’t worry! Pain is temporary. Do not let anybody stop you from learning and growing. It might take a life time to learn how to share even when you’re hurt but continue to do it anyway. That is how you’ll emerge above all the shackles of hatred and that is what will make you feel alive. Hatred or jealousy kills you little by little. Being alive is a miracle! You’ve to love life and sharing is the most important part of it. I’m in process of learning this art and I hope that some years from now I could say that I’ve learned a little bit of it. 🙂

The little girl and airplanes!

When Zafirah was small, under the winter sun of every 26^th of the January month, her father use to take her to the terrace of the house and show her flying planes, the fighter ones. Since then the flying planes in the open blue sky and sound of it has always fascinated her. She smiles whenever she sees the one in sky!

Today, standing on the terrace of her office, amidst all the noises around, she could hear only the airplane sound. It made her smile! She reminisced those days of watching the planes; clapping and jumping with happiness. She has grown up now and doesn’t like to let the eyes of people around to fall on her by over reacting but inside her heart there is still that little girl alive who jumps and claps with the sight of planes. She is the little girl and airplanes under the open sky still give her immense pleasure.

Glimpses of sacred Pushkar!

My friend wanted to spend her new year outside Delhi and I wanted to spend it at some quaint place so that is how Pushkar happened. There wasn’t a much hassle in selecting a place to stay in Pushkar, as zostel is there in Pushkar. This was going to be my second stay in Pushkar Zostel. Staying at zostel or any such hostel can be learning in itself. It allows you to open up to strangers in a friendly way yet maintaining your own space. Sometimes, you get to meet interesting people and sometimes you’ll bump into really funny characters but you’ll surely enjoy if you have the guts to take in anything with not much tantrums.

Sunrise at Anasagar Jheel, Ajmer

We started our journey on Friday night (best day to escape from the chaotic world of technological slaves: P). We were suppose to board bus from Bikaner House and upon reaching there I was excited to see famous Pandara road market just a few steps ahead to Bikaner House. Pandara road market is very famous among night riders in Delhi because some food joints (also the famous Gulati’s Restaurant) remain open late in night. The reason for my excitement was to hit the market unknowingly at night when lights were gleaming and people were in festive mood. We gulped in some hot badam milk to beat cold, located our bus and then finally boarded it. Journey from Delhi to Ajmer was a smooth ride in spite of the fact that there was dense fog on the way. We reached Ajmer with the break of dawn and waited for our friend who was supposed to pick us up from Ajmer and stay with us at Pushkar. On the way, he showed us various points which we would have missed otherwise like famous jogging point for Ajmeriites. There is nothing better than watching a rising sun and seeing the people breathing in fresh air and bucking up for their day. We too stopped for some time and soaked the freshness of it to revive our lost energy due to overnight journey.

 

Books and Tau @ Zostel, Pushkar

Entering Zostel is entering into a fantasy world! The colorful common area assures a comfort stay; paintings on wall depict various stories related to Pushkar. I especially loved the one which says “something in Hebrew” because there are many places in Pushkar where it is written only in Hebrew and not in any other language. Room was to be allotted at 12:00 noon, so we got ready in the common bathroom (of course one at a time :P) and headed to calm our taste buds with scrumptious street food. With so many foreigners coming to this place, one can easily find cafes serving multi-cuisine food along with Rajasthani food. I was surprised to see roadside eating joints serving middle-eastern food like Falafel & Humus and even more astonished to see locals talk in Hebrew so fluently. I guess the settlement of lot of Israelis have made the influence on both tourism as well as locals here. Anyway, we were more interested in trying authentic Rajasthani food and since there are many things you can try road side, I’m listing it here for the convenience of writing as well as for reading: 🙂

• Poha: We went to a famous cart in front of Varah ghat which serves Poha (a kind of flat rice). The man who serves Poha is Sonu and is very polite and sweet. He was happy to tell that some foreigner has already mentioned about his cart on google (internet). It was just for 10 bucks! We never had such tasty Poha at such a nominal price. The other food item that we tried at the same cart was Daal Pakwan. We named it as desi pizza! It was new and good in taste.
• Jalebi: After having delicious breakfast one can have freshly prepared Jalebi with Rabri.
• Lassi: It is prepared in a wooden whisk and served in earthen pots. Gulab lassi is also a hit among locals.
• Malpua: This is strictly not-to-miss dish which unfortunately we missed and will have to go back to try it.
• Mirchi Vada: Popular breakfast for Rajasthanis. Try it if you can handle the hotness of chilli that is filled with mashed potato, onion and spices.
• Fresh Juices: Do not forget to quench your thirst with freshly prepared juices.
• Falafel: Gorge on Falafel, Humus with Pita bread donned with garlic (to suit the Indian taste buds) at Ganga Restaurant. The owner here was fluent in Hebrew!

Magnificient Sunset @ Pushkar

After having heavenly food and feeling content, one can take long stroll along 52 ghats around the holy lake. That is what we did to digest our food and take in the city vibes in the best possible way. In the daytime, ghats keep bustling with pilgrims taking a dip in holy water (which is unfit for health but religious fanatics don’t mind about dirty water). It is preferable to wear slipper/chappal that can be removed easily as while walking on the ghats you’ll have to remove footwear at certain places especially when walking near lake. We saw lots of foreigners performing pooja (prayers) near ghat. In the evening we went to the sunset point to immerse ourselves in the hues of sunset forming reflections on lake, musicians playing ektara and nagara, town reverberating with the chants of Aarti. For me it was a beautiful evening to end the year with and hope for a peaceful 2017. By the night, town was surrounded with loud music (please read it as bad speakers) playing various popular Hindi, English and Punjabi, Rajasthani songs. Songs like “tip tip barsa pani” which tickled our ribs; but it was quite safe to roam around. We then took time to call or message our loved ones and wish them ‘Happy New Year’s 🙂

First Sunrise of 2017!

Next day was planned to hike to Savitri Temple which is on a hill top and is a sunrise point. I couldn’t hike till the temple and we decided to rest somewhere in the middle from where we could get to see a perfect sunrise. The time just before sunrise is very sacred especially when it is going to be first sunrise of the year. We were drowning in the moment when sun was rising. It was beautiful!

In the afternoon, we took our seats in Laura’s café and lazed there till early evening. People there at Laura’s café are really nice and sweet. Don’t miss to go there if you are in Pushkar. My two close friends drove down to Pushkar from Udaipur to meet me. I was overwhelmed with their gesture. It is all together a different feeling of meeting friends at a place away from your home.

Pushkar is also a home for only Brahma Temple in the world and a historical Gurdwara which was visited by tenth Guru of Sikhs, Guru Gobind Singh Ji. It offers peaceful vibes to the otherwise wandering mind of city dwellers.

Time spent at Pushkar was enchanting with lots of shopping done in the colorful by lanes of the town with a good start to New Year. I wish that this year brings more peace in the world. Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year! (a little late though).

Here goes the sneak peek of two days at Pushkar:

Poha Cart!

Gurdwara, Pushkar

Something in hebrew!

First sunrise of 2017!

Wall @ Zostel!

Ganga Restaurant!

Pilgrims!

Wall @ Zostel!

Sunrise @ Anasagar jheel, Ajmer

Wall @ Zostel!

Wall @ Zostel!

Streets of Pushkar!

Streets of Pushkar!

Pushkar Ghat!

Offerings!

Regret Nothing!

Wall @ Zostel!

Colorful Pushkar!

Wall @ Zostel!

Wall @ Zostel!

Sunset @ Pushkar

Sunrise! PC – Vaibhav Chikhle

Colorful Rajasthani Ladies!

Reflection!

Daal Pakwaan

Sunrise!

Blue and white!

Friends and sunset!

Friend!

Prayer offerings!

Wall @ Zostel!

Paragliding Paradise in India!

Winter has already knocked in! Bright sun is peeping through my window, spreading its warmth. Melodious Rabindra Sangeet by Shaan is playing, making everything in room to sway with it. And I’m earnestly eager to share my experience from my last trip. Though demonetization affected it a little but as they say “where there is a will, there is a way”, we managed it with all smiles. 🙂

Umm, the new adventure is about being a bird under the open sky. Yeah, you read it right, a bird. Befuddled? Well, let me clear myself. It’s about paragliding in mountains at the world’s popular paragliding site, Bir. And it makes one feel like a bird. 🙂 As usual, the journey started on Friday night. But before I start my blog I would like to mention about a

With Dragan! 🙂

day prior to our departure. It is about meeting a Serbian cyclist, Dragan Sibalic, few months ago in Himalayas who was on his North India cycle tour and we made acquaintance with each other. He inspired me big time not only with his audacity of riding in dangerous Himalayas but also with his kind and humble nature. After few months, we again met in Delhi on one summer evening, promising to meet again when he will be in Delhi after his 8500 km of travel covering North India and Nepal. Keeping our promise, we met again. This time I was his host to show him my city – Delhi. The day was well spent in his company showing him few of the beautiful monuments of Delhi that stands testimony to imperial bygone era. And just before our departure for Bir, I bade him goodbye, with a promise of meeting him again but this time unsure of our meeting as he was leaving for his home next day. I will cherish all the moments spent with him throughout my life. 🙂

So, finally five girls all excited about their two days trip to Himalayas and being a bird, boarded bus from ISBT. To our astonishment, we had five last seats of Volvo. Thanks to the person who did this blunder while booking tickets. I was forgiven with their laughter :). Before even the bus started, two girls gulped in the Avomine tablet in order to not feel giddy of sitting on last seat. Keeping in mind all the adversities and awkwardness of the back seat, we adjusted to our best ability; singing, talking, and making fun to start our trip on a happy note. At around 2:00 am, after being scolded by a lady for singing loud, I managed to doze off only to wake up at a sudden jerk and seeing a friend of mine slipping from her seat, I held her though but imagining her lying on the bus floor made me laugh. And she is definitely going to beat me after reading this. Bus stopped twice, one for dinner break and second for a tea break. It was colder than Delhi and holding hot cup of tea in hand was more soothing than sipping it with a loud slurp. We reached Bir with the first light of the day. Morning and air in mountains make me high, makes me smile without any reason. I’m happiest under the mountain sun! Bir does not have a proper bus stop and in fact there are not many direct buses. Instead you need to take bus till Baijnath and take a taxi from there to reach Bir. We were lucky enough to get direct bus. Our hotel was in a small hamlet called Chougan which was a small trek down the road that hosted beautiful monasteries of Bir on one side and fluttering colorful prayer flags on the other side. The sight of it had a calming effect on mind and soul, and I knew that we are going to have a great time. After few calls and asking for directions from the locals, we finally reached hotel and got our keys. Infused with enthusiasm, we forgot the last night’s back seat journey, and planned to get ready and head for breakfast. I was told by a friend that one of her friend will be joining us for breakfast. He was really very handsome  and to my disappointment he was only 9 years younger to me so I stopped my mind from wandering in wrong direction and concentrated on food rather. At breakfast, Mr Chandan Bhatia Sir also joined us. Mr Chandan was an acquaintance to us through “Himalayan Club” on facebook. And he is absolutely one gem of a person who not only took care of us but also booked paragliding for us at a very nominal price. We can’t thank him enough for what he has done for us.

Friends!

After having breakfast, we left for Billing (launching site) which is 14 km from Bir, in Chandan sir’s car. Road to Billing is really steep and oxygen level is also low thus making one feel like nauseating but going up and watching parachutes against azure blue sky took us in its awe.  We were given time to acclimatize to the weather before we could take a flight. We utilized time in clicking pictures, soaking mountain sun and making memories. We cheered fellow people who were ready to take their flight, bucking up ourselves to take the flight. I’m scared of heights but my father has always taught me to face fears with all my strength; it is his belief and my faith that gives me courage to take anything that comes my way. Here is a small poem that I wrote while preparing myself for the trip, shooing away all the negative thoughts and imbibing all the positive energy inside me.

Sitting on edge, with eyes full of dreams,
All set to para-glide, shout and scream
To fly under the open sky,
Above the mountains so high.
Ticking one more from bucket list,
Taking with audacity the air twists.

Finally, it was our turn to fly. With tensed face I wished good luck to all my friends and started chanting God’s name to keep me safe. I was the last one to fly. I took a flight in second attempt. I fell on stones in my first attempt and this reason was enough to terrify me. After few seconds of running and taking a flight, I was in air under the blue sky. It was ecstatic! After few minutes in the sky I was comfortable and talking to my glider but as I looked down it scared me again so I decided not to look towards ground, closed my eyes and let cool breeze touch my face and I got drowned in its howling sound remembering my grandma, brother and his wife, missing them and praying for them. I also felt the presence of my faith, rising behind the mountains and telling me to calm and enjoy the moment. I was in the air for around 30 minutes and after landing on the ground, my friends came running to me, one of them saying – “Gur, we did it. We all are alive!” I was so much elated to hear this that gust of tears came rolling down like a ferocious waterfall. We then celebrated this little achievement by feeding our empty stomachs with some food and watched the sun that changed the hues of the horizon as an artist fills his empty canvas with strokes of beautiful colors, before setting behind the Dhauldhar range. After dropping us all near our hotel, we said goodbye to Chandan Sir who was heading home which was a 2 hours drive from Bir. Bir is a very small town that has very limited options of restaurants which closes maximum by 8:00 pm. Hence, we were left with the option of having food at our own hotel which was decent enough to satiate our hunger. We then took a stroll on the narrow hilly roads under the moon which was supposed to be the largest and closest to earth. At last we came back to our rooms and dozed off to get up early next day and watch the rising sun.

Next day started as early as 5:00 am, we got ready and strolled on the unknown streets in the wee hours when we were joined by four dogs wagging their tales whom we gave names as – Tiger, Snowy, Brownie, and Kallu (all according to their colors. I thought ourselves as being racist but could not think of better names than these 😛 🙂 ) Tiger being the most quiet and innocent, stroked a immediate connection with me. They joined as soon as we started our walk and remained with us till the end. In just two hours, we got attached to them. We got to see the sunrise from somebody else’s home which we first entered to click the picture of rising sun and eventually took permission to enter their courtyard and spend some time. We walked laughed, clicked pictures and experienced many wow moments together. While on our way back to hotel, I found a secluded place where colorful prayer flags were hung around trees, sun was coming up from east, and mountains were at the backdrop; I decided to stay back and meet friends after some time at hotel. I was accompanied by friend’s friend, the same hot guy who was nine years younger to me. We talked so much about ourselves that when we returned from that place, we were in a relationship. A relationship of being elder sister and younger brother! After having our breakfast, we hired a cab to visit the largest monastery – Sherabling , around Bir. The monastery is grand and beautiful. It stirred that corner in all of us which was holding some pain and it came out in form of tears. We were also lucky to visit a school there and meet little monks. Ohh! They were damn cute. I wish I could have adopted one. We also were lucky to see mask dance at another monastery near our hotel. We had a bus back to Delhi at 5:45 pm so we couldn’t see more around Bir. There are so many places – trekking points and monasteries that were left; and I will cover them in my next trip to Bir.

The trip ended witnessing a beautiful red sun setting behind Himalayas and lots of cherish able memories. Here goes the photo blog:

The cherry tree!

Bangalan!

Mishra ji!

zostel Wall Painting 1!

zostel Wall Painting 2!

zostel Wall Painting 3!

Girls and first light!

Selfie with Chandan Sir!

Sisters!

Tiger Love!

Solitude!

#flyinghigh

Red Sun!

Cherry tree and snowy!

Monastery!

Happy Moments!

First Light!

Preparing!

Granny!

Sun – kissed selfie!

Mishra ji again!

Zafirah And A Stranger!

Zafirah was waiting at Mumbai Airport to board a flight for home to Delhi. She had gone through the security check and was waiting for boarding signal for her flight. She never travel alone! She always have a loyal company of a book with her. Taking a seat in front of the notice board where flight schedule was displaying, she made herself comfortable and took out a book from her bag, “Forty Rules of Love”. The more she reads, more she gets drowned in Shams words and his rules. Not noticing a stranger by her side, she kept on turning the pages of a book.

“Hello”, said the stranger. Bringing book down from her eye level and looking with amusement at stranger! There was a tall, fair, slender man with unkempt hair. He belonged to a foreign land!  She said, “Hi”.  “Going to Kochi?”, asked Stranger. No! I’m traveling to Delhi, replied Zafirah. Later realizing her mother’s words of not giving any details to strangers. He is a foreigner (she thinks), Mom said to be careful from strangers from India. She laughs on her thought and starts reading again. “What are you reading?”, asked stranger. Ohh! It is Forty rules of Love by Elif Shafak, replied Zafirah. Hmm! Another love story!, stranger mumbled. “Oh no no! It’s not a love story. I mean, yes it is a love story, but it is about eternal love.”, said Zafirah. Aah! “Eternal Love”, said stranger laughing. “Where are you from”, asked Zafirah. “I’m John from Land of Midnight Sun, Finland”, replied Stranger. Wow!, exclaimed Zafirah. Her little eyes filled with excitement. She wanted to know more about Finland, but kept quite instead. She didn’t want to show her excitement to John.

“So what all places you have seen in India?”, asked Zafirah. Oh! I have seen Delhi, Agra, Hampi, Orchha, Gwalior, Amritsar, and many more. I’m in India from last 6 months on a spiritual rejuvenation, replied John. Zafirah was impressed with John. She wanted to ask him about his travels. While she was thinking of ways to continue her conversation with John, he asked her to join him for coffee. Today God is listening to me (she looks up and smiles). Two cappuccino, John ordered as service boy came to take the order. How do you know I like cappuccino?, asked Zafirah. Well! you like books. And readers have old connection with cappuccino!, said John. Ahan!  I see (quite impressed).

I forgot to ask your name, said John. Zafirah, she replied. Za-fee-raah! I liked the sound of it. So tell me what do you think of love?, asked John. Zafirah laughs and after pause of few seconds, she says – For me love is a feeling which fills a person with kindness and purity. Love and life exists in everything on this universe. The outer beauty may lose its charm with age, but love will only grow with age. Nice! Do you love someone? You can ignore my question if you think it is too personal, said John. I have a wild dream of seeing the world and I don’t have time to get into a relationship. When Zafirah was replying to John’s question of loving someone, she had only one name on her mind.

Announcement for boarding for Mumbai to Kochi was made. John paid the bill and got on his feet to board his Kochi flight. He leaned towards Zafirah and mumbled in her ears – You are a girl with a dream and you need a man with a vision. He then left, waving his hands, and saying Good Bye to Zafirah. Zafirah stood frozen there, thinking about John’s words.