Thursday, June 26, 2008


Abir started play school last week. The first two days I was there with them, so he was fine. After that, I had to leave him alone. He cried, somedays for almost twenty mins. The first time we left the kids alone, all the moms (and one dad too) stayed back for the entire duration of the class... we had our ears pinned to the door of the class room. Any noise of crying and we would be on alert, whose kid is it this time?!


I seriously feel that moms ( and dads!) need more counselling than the little kids. The kids know no better, they probably think this is the way things function in their world. You grow up a bit and then you have to go to school. Getting used to the idea that our dearest darling babies are going to be away from us for two hours, under somebody else's supervision is really hard to take. In Abir's school they dont allow you to talk to the teachers after the first week, you have to take an appointment and come if you have some special concerns. The thrity second meeting I have with his teacher when she hands him over to me, I try to read her eyes, her tone of voice, the way she looks at Abir to figure how it really went for the both of them inside the class! Call me paranoid - if not for this rule, I know I would eat the teachers head asking her what Abir did all the time! If he smiled enough, played with the other kids... managed to do this activity, act out the rhymes or not...!


So... this is now almost the end of the second week of school. Abir puked today, he does that when he cries very intensely, he has done it once before in the school and I had shared my opinion with the teachers that this is normal and I wont be too concerned if this happened again. Still, the teacher called me and said maybe Abir is unwell so he puked? Oh well... this naughty, cheerful kid I left at the school door was definitely not unwell. I went to the school, waited and as I expected, he was fine after some time.


The owner of the school told me that along with the moms even the teachers have become a little paranoid! Hmm... now... really, whats one to do? So these will be stressful times, however hard one tries... there will be bumps and bruises on the way... Our little kids will grow up anyway, and hopefully, become the way we want them to, with some jarring edges here and there - how can I forget how much I troubled my mom when I was growing up? So I really can't expect to be not troubled by my son later on... I wont. But still, will I take it in my stride... maybe - maybe not..... its all hit and try here... but its fun all the same!


Gotta rush to pick up Abir from the school... more later!

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

a day in the life of abir gupta!







abir out on the lane... taing a ride behing a boy whose bike he took a fancy to... playing with paddy - the dog in the lane who wears shoes! kissing the li'l baby who comes out for a walk with his grandad... and talking to a delivery boy! he has the most interesting life...!

bombay port trust road


found both these pictures on the bombay port trust road... dunno how we landed up there, so many roads were closed coz of water logging... so one wrong turn led to another and god knows how we reached town that day! the good thing were these pics! love them both! shot them from the car, so they really are, found pictures!

pigeons

you go this way
i go that
somewhere
we'll meet... i am sure...

Sunday, June 8, 2008

leaves reflected


there goes the mind... frolicking... lakes... deep... mysterious... shadows mislead... show us things that dont exist...

stay here awhile wont' u?

stay here a while... wont u? the river is wide, deep and endless... here, there is quietness... the roar dies down here... and i can stay still in my mind...its like each moment has its corners pinned down... stay here awhile... wont u?

the lakeside series


literally dug out these pics from some old forgotten folder... maybe thats how precious things lie... hidden... there is a time to find them... i did'nt know i shot these till a today! its like these pictures came with a story to tell... i just shot them... somehow they have come together... harmonious, whole...delicate... saying things like never before... i am listening... i am here... say what u want to... the other voices... are quieter now... i can hear the smallest voice, the faintest whisper...

Bloody Gulmohars by Ajay

Every drop in an ocean contains the water of all the rivers that flow into it.

The pain was at its peak now, and strangely sweet. Like when you catch a leather ball on a winter morning. It is so intense that the only way you can handle it is by looking forward to it again.

He had decided that he wanted to be in his forest house. Alone. Well, almost alone. He had surrounded himself with his past – all of it - whether warm or frightening. Old letters. The first western music album he had heard. A well thumbed children’s fiction book he had not returned to his school library.

At 47, you have already lived many lifetimes especially if you had a seeking gypsy spirit. To contain all those lifetimes in one room was a ridiculous thought, at least in hindsight. You could not blame him altogether though, he had no precedents to go by.
He had read about these moments, seen them on TV shows, but nothing had prepared him for what was coming up.

Soon, a burst of joy in an infinite sphere entered him. Bright blue joy. With that the smell of fresh mangoes on a summer afternoon. The smell was a strange mix of green and yellow, he wiped his brow. The fan had stopped working. Through the window, a breeze brought in the girl-smell of a sweaty teenager carrying a large school bag. One of the books was a love story. The character was like him, detached yet loving. She had often sat with him on the steps near the school playground, asking him about what he wanted to do with himself. Salvation was more than a song on a young boy's lips. A large tape player was spooling a rock track. He was trying to decipher the lyrics. He could see from the eyes at the back of his head, someone pouring out from a half empty whiskey bottle. Still so hot, he wiped his brow once again. The taste was foul, and he pretended to go out for some fresh air. He poured out the drink into the pot outside in the porch. Sweet Gulmohars, lanes washed with blood red flowers. Freshly strewn about by the stormy monsoon.

Three thousand aeons in a moment. He smiled to no one in particular.

There is no particular moment that you can recall when you can recall when your name, body and form are associated together in your mind. It’s probably difficult to establish whether that degree of objective self awareness is possible at all. However, this is that moment when all your wisdom is brought out and challenged to a test. You have to give up a forty seven year old identity, and faith is your only crutch. Faith that you are merely getting off on one of the stations. For a restful cup of tea. You can reach out to the top tier, pull out a jacket, take out a pack of cigarettes from the left pocket, or was it right? And get off on a cold, very cold platform. Its foggy outside, and the vendors are calling out half sleepy. In a strange accent. You can barely see your hand which is anyway mostly hidden inside your jackets pocket. It’s thrilling to wait for the train to start moving, thrilling to know that you might have to miss it. And not know when the next one will come.

What will it be like to have to stay in this unknown town for an unknown period? What if this town has only blind people? Like in the telefilm he saw when he was young. And the only person with sight is the beautiful daughter of the priest. What if the price for marrying her is losing your vision for ever? What if..

His thoughts are jolted by the distant whistling of the train. He looks outside his window. The last leaf is barely clutching the thin branch. The monsoon breeze is flapping around the leaf, now almost brown.

He takes one last breath. The leaf sways downwards and goes deeper and deeper into the valley. White silence now.

Monday, February 25, 2008




We were taking a walk down marine drive when we came across these really beautiful flower girls. There were four of them... and all of them looked like supermodels! One of them resembled Boticelli's Venus so much I have uploaded one of his paintings here for comparison. The resemblance is quite unreal! I could write loads here... but I'd rather let the pictures speak for themselves...









Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Its funny, one of the things that I can recall so vividly about our yearly trips to Delhi are the kolhapuri chappals I used to ask mom to buy for me. They obviously had to last me the entire year… I loved how they used to hurt my feet when they were new… and how, slowly… they would smoothen out… and become almost like second skin. I don’t think there is anything in the world more precious than old kolhapuri chappals! Just the thought of them makes me ache for them! I don’t know why I don’t buy them anymore – I find it tedious to wear them out. The very thing I used to love as a child.

Nani’s house in the summer… in the scorching, mind numbing Delhi summer. That small house sure had a big heart. It could take in endless people… I have seen it so full of family during my aunt’s wedding… they just fitted in… God knows how, they just did. Now that I think of it, that house was really small. If I tried going there again, I’d feel like its caving in upon me… it was small and dark and lovely.

We used to live for a couple of years in this really back of beyond town in the tip of what is now Chhattisgarh. There was no railway line there, so one had to drive 300 kms to the nearest big town to catch the train to Delhi. I remember once me and my brother were so excited to leave, we could not sleep… so we bathed and got ready in the night. Then just stayed awake all night… to leave…

There is something so special about these trips to Nani’s place. It felt the same when we were in the same city. It was not just about going to another city. I remember the older RK Puram house… strange things I remember of it… this grape vine running along one side of the house, it felt so exotic then… getting my ears pierced by one of these men who used to roam around with a wooden box with them… and had these really pretty ear-rings in them….the first ear-ring I wore… a gold string with a tiny red and black bead in it…Benji, the big white pomerarian jumping on me soon as he saw me (he came from a long line of poms that we bred at home!)… the really pretty pink lace material nani gifted me… I remember the exact moment she turned to open her almirah and showed me the cloth… and the dress I eventually got made after that… the trips to the RK Puram market… the small library nani got her Mills & Boons from… the ice-creams and masala dosa she always treated me with…the long chats my aunt had with her friends on the street… the Chinese van that my aunt’s pal owned… and the yummy food we got to eat there!....fish curry on Sundays… my mom standing on the main door of the house after she got her first stylish hair-cut…mama’s Yezdi…

30th January, 0035hrs.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Just the other day, A fell from the stairs... both of us saw him roll down and fall on the ground. Luckily, miraculously he was unhurt. But that scene just keeps playing and replaying in front of my eyes. Its probably the scariest sight for me. To see your little baby falling down and not being able to do anything about it.

Isn't it kinda representative of the uncountable other times when we may have to see him going through something that we can't control? God alone knows the kind of circumstances and situations that he will have to deal with. We will never be able to really prevent them from happening... all we can do is after the fall... after the hurt. We can be there for him only after the pain. Makes me realise that we really can't control the lives of our children. They will go through what they must. What they bring towards them will affect them, good or bad. I hope mostly its good, but sometimes the bad will also come. I know how much the bad times have taught me about life... he will learn like that too.

I hope A knows that he can always come to us after the hurt. And we can assuage the pain. Tend over the wounds.

Children broaden our view of life so much. Its like the switch between windows option on the computer... for a second all that you have been through as children comes in front of your eyes. And then, we can act, maybe with some degree of understanding from our own past experiences as kids. Did our parents think like this too? I wonder...

AB; 22/Jan, Bandra

Sunday, January 20, 2008


Four of us were sitting in Hard Rock... thought of doing something interesting... so wrote this chain poem. Somehow reveals our states of mind... even without us knowing it. Interesting
exercise...

1.


aj: once again I am under the spotlight

db: ...and a million miles away...

sd: I am cluless, but i know i belong here...

ab: so many years I've been drifting... and finally here...

aj: my blues forgotten - though i remember the shades

db: ...of an ocean that looks like a thousand diamonds
strung strung out from the land within...

sd: lets be children again lets play with marbles...

ab: ...the sun, the sand, the sea... why do they all seem so new to me?

aj: maybe its supposed to start again with the light at the end of the tunnel - I am coming home

2.

sd: and yet again the strings have started to take charge of me...


ab: different vibrations... each string has its own little story to tell...


aj: ironic - the puppeteer has become a puppet...


db: and the accuser the victim...


sd: but I am still not me..
my "me" is playing hide and seek...


ab: kuchh bhi soch lo...
"soch" nahin yahan...


aj: is baar aandhi mein patte
udte hain ban_ke dhuaan


db: mano is dil ke bikhre katron ke samaan...
dobara jod dete_in hain trahi huye sansar ko...


sd: chalo bikhre tukdon ko dhoondein
par kam roshni hain...
chalo kuchh roshni udhaar maang laate hain...
lamp-post se.......


ab: katron mein shayad na mile vo...
vo jo antaral ke theek pehle...
na jaane kab chala gaya...


aj: kal subah ke akhbaar
ki surkhiyon mein kahin
dhoond lena mujhe!


db: miloo_n nahin to mastak ko
apne ambar ki o_r uthha kar
charchit huye un taaro_n
mein ghule mishran
ki aas mein...
lahu bankar daud raha
hoonga main...


sd: is waqt ko lifafe mein band kar leti kaash...
aur phir kabhi koi yun-hi-sa nam din
aata to u_s lifafe se
ek-aadhi hansi
nikaal leti...


19th/20th jan '08 at Hard Rock, Mumbai...

Wednesday, December 26, 2007


Can't deny that the Khajjiar meadows were picture perfect!

A shepherd on the road...


Fifth June, 1600 hrs.,2005 (Ajay)
After negotiating a hard fought vacation of no less than three weeks from my corporate humdrum existence, I finally set off to Delhi along with Ambika, my wife of no less than three years. Well, actually, a little less than three years. We have quite a travel bug, the two of us, and it seems to visit us very periodically. I guess we haven’t got a permanent cure for it, which I suspect is a good thing after all.

It was the peak of summer in Bombay, the monsoon promising to deceive. It was fifth of June when we set off for Delhi in the Rajdhani. Darn, we got the side berths again! After what seemed to be yet another long unwieldy journey we reached a hotter city, if that were possible. A different kind of heat- one that could kill you faster.

Sixth June, 2000 hrs.
We spent a total of two evenings in Delhi; the first one was accompanied by a very Delhi sandstorm. The wind was as fast as eighty kilometers per hour, or so the Hindustan Times reported the next morning. We were safely drinking in the confines of the Palam Defence Officers Mess. Ambika and her Wg Cmdr uncle were on Royal Challenge with Soda, and me on Ciplox, Rum and Water. The less said about the Ciplox the better. When the showers that followed the storm ceased a bit we ran off to Nirula's at Vasant Vihar, near Priya. Hmmm, the salami Pizza remains the same as I first had in School, way back in the last century as does the HCF(Hot Chocolate Fudge, for the unfortunate uninitiated).

Seventh June, 1500 hrs
Its 5th June now, the Celsius which had dipped almost 10 degrees to 24, is back where it enjoys best, and we are hidden away in PVR Saket, trying to get scared by the return of the Ring. Naomi Watts is nice, the movie not so. Anyway we are raring to leave now. A brief last minute trip to a convenience store is in order. I can only think of Cheese Slices and Cup'o Noodles. Ambika is much more creative I guess. By the time we reach the check out counter, our bill has run up to almost seven hundred bucks - mostly essentials we must grant her.

Eighth June, 0500 hrs (eew!)

Jagdish and the double blower Qualis are parked outside. Jagdish is our polite Haryanavi driver, who has supposedly seen all of Himachal and then some. Bags are in and we are off to Dalhosuie. It’s a long drive via two states - Haryana and Punjab. We will hit Ludhiana, Jullundher, Pathankot and then the hills. A distance of almost 600 kms. We pay Rs 7.5 per km, a good deal wrangled out of a "connection", and you know what that means only if you are from Delhi. This way we are curving in to Himachal from the top left corner, after which we will gently slip down over the next thirteen days.

Around 1300 hrs, you hit the outskirts of the Jullundher cantonment. Theres this uber hip place called the Haveli which promises authentic Punjabi cuisine, and does it deliver. The Mutter Paneer and Rajma are out of the world. Tummies fed we are on our way again only to be briefly stopped by a Surdarji cop ( he could scare off Sunny Deol on any given day), apparently for jumping a light. Fortunately, its India, and a hundred bucks go a long distance.

The hills can be seen a few kilometers after Pathankot. Just a little hint and then full fledged. From Pathankot, Dalhousie is almost seventy kilometers, the last thirty odd through hills passing small villages (Banikhet and some equally non descript ones). A mini tempo has hit a Scorpio bringing traffic to a complete halt. After a lot of ineffective pleading and crowd pressure which doesn't help in getting either vehicle off, Jagdish squirms the car out of what seemed like a space insufficient for even a Maruti 800.

We are pretty tired now, and desperately in need of a hot bath. Entering Dalhousie, half of our tiredness is washed away. There is a breathtaking view of snow capped mountains, and the day couldnt be clearer. Its around an hour and a half from sundown, and we promise to shoot the mountains on reaching the hotel.

We try at a couple of hotels (Surya - 800 plus taxes - full, XXX - 800 -taxes waived off - dirty), and then spot Himdhara. Its on the same road as the others, the one leading to Gandhi Chowk (where the GPO and Mall road lie). A flight of steps down, and you enter this small hotel which overlooks the hills. The sound of the screaming kids from XXX is distant here, and you get a panoramic view of the valley and the mountains afar. We quickly settle to a room tarriff of Rs. 600. Clean beds, geyser and home like food, Sounds like a deal.

We have to figure out what all to see tomorrow, plan the Khajjiar trip and yeah - the hot bath. In all of this the shoot schedule is skipped. The food is made to order - Zeera Aloo and Dal Makhani it is for us. Having got the food ordered, we walk up to the Mall (Jagdish is absconding) - a five minute climb. There is a small market, lest the word Mall remind you of the one in Simla.
We bought some music for the car, and sipped a quick cup of black coffee. Bodies are tire d and its getting mildly chilly. Its about time to hit a small Rum, with the hot food following. We gulped down the food quickly, watched over the lights in the valleys and retired to a very deserved sleep. Good Night.
-------------------*-------*-------------------------

Ninth June, 0930 hrs (Ambs)
First thing I remember the room was flooded with light. Bright mountain sunlight. I was sure it was eleven or twelve in the morning - something about the mountains just messes up my sense of time – it was only nine o’ clock in the morning! Good thing we woke up early, somehow the body clock works more accurately when you are close to nature – in the city I can be sleeping till twelve and I would not really know!

The mountains outside were clear – snow capped peaks in the distance, crowning the vista. Something about the hotel we were staying in was pretty homely – it hardly felt like an alien place, even the town felt kinda known. I don’t know if the place espouses you or we – espouse the place – but the mountains sure do things to your psyche. I know for sure I have wanted to build a home in each of the mountain towns I have visited.

Breakfast was in the town, in the so called Mall. We went to Cafe Dalhousie, right in the beginning of the Mall, it had a nice bright ambience and lemon yellow wrought iron chairs outside. Quite inviting! The petunias hanging on the doors made it even more so! Nice, clean place, but no guarantee what the food would be like. So we try. I am a bit adventurous so order Paneer Parathas, Ajay goes the simpler, tried and tested way so orders bread and omlette. As expected, his omlettes were good, my paratha oily and made of refined flour instead of wheat, so basically terribly unappetizing! I get these funny looks from Ajay coz he had warned me and I end up with the wrong food orders pretty often! Well – I expect too much from piddly restaurants I guess! The mention of paneer parathas in the menu almost got me salivating coz they reminded me of the yummy ones I used to have at home! So anyway, I tried some vada sambhar after that, it was almost tolerable!

We had thought of looking around Dalhousie town, the churches and a particular graveyard in the hills we read about in the travel book. Somehow, we lost the enthusiasm to do that after seeing one church in the middle of the town square, it seemed pretty ordinary and the doors were tightly shut. I like to see the interiors of churches… I got the feeling here I would not be able to do that, so the town tour was dropped. Instead, we did the Khajjiar trip today. On the way was the Tibetan refugee village, one of the several small settlements in the country offered to the Tibetan people by Pandit Nehru.

There was this huge school building right at the entrance of the village. Bright orange asbestos rooftops almost shocked the eyes in the bright sunlight. A little kid was running off to school – round, podgy faced – just like the rest of the kids we saw there!

We tried to ask for directions to the Tibetan Craft Center but neither English or Hindi seemed to work for us. The Tibetan kids just smiled back or whispered something to each other. Walking further ahead, we got some men sitting and chilling out, who pointed out the temple to us. There is a small temple, and a big one, the latter a bit of a climb. We satisfied ourselves with the smaller one, going all around rotating the prayer wheels.

The village/settlement is quite sweet, clean and peaceful. There is interesting Tibetan music streaming from here and there, which Ambika tells me is going to be all over Mcleodganj, where we are headed tomorrow. She got going shooting some wildflowers and some Tibetans in a car passing by asked if we were enjoying ourselves. Good natured lot these.

Onwards to Khajjiar of which we have heard mixed reviews though mostly positive ones. The drive was a bit scary, through thin circuitous roads. We pass by a small detour to Kala top promising to visit in on our way back. This area is marked as a sanctuary though Jagdish says he has never seen or heard of any wild animals there.

Khajjiar was a complete disappointment. Well it is a pretty little meadow, with a floating island amidst a small pond in the center. It would have been beautiful if it was short of some two thousand people. Making a touristy mess as usual, buying balloons, taking pony rides and creating a general hell. When we asked the driver what there is to do here, he pointed out to some huge balloons in the distance and said – woh balloon hain na wahan! – right!

We had a quick bite, food was completely not special. There are tons of daisies all over the park which we dutifully captured. And then set off. When we reach Kala top, we realize that rain could be around the corner. In Dalhousie it seems to rain every evening without much warning. The guards at the Kala Top road entrance say that cars can only go in lots of four odd, at a time and we will have to wait more than an hour. Walking is an option which we ignore given the rain threat.

We move back to Gandhi Chowk, where we give the churches a pass, and move towards this place called Panchpulla ( supposed to have had five wooden bridges converge here) . The promised waterfalls are missing, the place is not even worth spending ten minutes at. We let Jagdish have tea and pakoras, crib about tourist books being all hype (“ever since shooting started in Kashmir they started creating destinations in Himachal”) and then head back.

Got some rest in the hotel, it started raining, and we were wondering between wanting to eat in the town or stay put in the hotel. There was lots of thunder and lightening, made funny noises on the tin roof. Finally we went to this place called Kwality which was a pleasant surprise. Air conditioned, full of little Sardarjis and lots of butter chicken smell in the air. We resisted the temptation and had mutter paneer and chana masala. One kid had butter chicken and then almost finshed off an eight inch pizza. Whew, gave us quite a complex. Rain had cleansed the atmosphere, and we sauntered down hill to the hotel.





Hotel Ragini, Naggar - 16th June, 2005 - 2230 hrs, (Ambs)

Not written for two days now. Naggar turned out to be beyond our collective imaginations. We ventured out of Naggar both today and yesterday, only to return by late evening to the chilled out town, comfortably tired.

The treacherous road to Ladakh through the buried dead (Rohtang Pass), June 13th
The first thing that comes to mind is that I don’t wana leave! I am completely enchanted by this little town. Probably more by this particular part of the Himachal. The town is where we stay, the area around is where we spend most of our day. Ajay tells me we should leave day after tomorrow, for two reasons, ostensibly. One, Naggar is really far away from Delhi and we have to reach back on the 20th to save an extra days’ fare of the cab. Two, it disturbs his well planned trip. I would have happily stayed here till the 20th. I love the place…

Thoughts of Bombay are almost scary right now. Just thinking about it, a shiver runs down my spine. The first thought is, its so concrete, dry and alien. Here, its so warm, the mountains have a way of reaching out to you, no matter where you go. I remember feeling this way even when I was younger and used to travel with my parents. The hills felt like home. Maybe I will come back someday to make a home. I doubt the city will hold me in for too long.

The day began a little late for us today, I don’t know how we overslept, must have woken up around ten thirty or so, went out for breakfast only around eleven thirty. Did not feel like an elaborate one, so just went to the chai shop at the corner, with those friendly women. We had boiled eggs, bread n butter and lemon tea. Sounds exotic does it? Well, the lady at the chai shop was quick to adapt to our tastes, and without asking made us the lemon tea! It was quite nice – always feels better to eat in these small roadside joints.

We didn’t have a great plan for today, but somehow it did turn out to be one of the nicest days. Started off with a drive to Solang Valley. We had to go the same way we went for Rohtang Pass, so stopped again at the dhaba that made those awesome parathas. As expected they were great, probably even better today! The locals here are extremely friendly, they make us feel really at home. So twice if you happen to go to the same place they’d make you feel like you have always been coming there!

The Beas roared right outside the dhaba. Its backside was the river. The Beas is a roaring, boisterous river in this part, it’s enlivening to just watch it! I haven’t seen anything like it ever. I don’t know how the Ganga is nearer its source, must be something like this one. Beas is beautiful. On the way to Rohtang Pass, you could see these huge blocks of ice fa... (Looks like I trailed off here... maybe got busy with something else there or just plain tired!...Make what u will of it!)
Dharmkot, the pizza place...

They had these awesome painted posters inside the cafe in Dharmkot...


Cafe in McLeodganj... had the most amazing jacket potatoes with ham there!! Found absolutely nowhere else!!



Kareri Lodge, Mcleodganj- 11th June, 2005 - 1700 hrs, AB

First morning in Mcleodganj. It was compfortable in the night, not too cold not too hot… far warmer than Dalhousie. We didn’t need to wear any woolens at all! Breakfast was at the same place where we had tea yesterday – Snow Lion Restaurant, I had come here five years back with my parents and frantically searched it out again, the food I remembered was absoloutely awesome. We were not disappointed at all. We had French Toast and Honey Pancake, the French Toast were really nice, the pancake, more like a thin soft cake, don’t know how they make it like that, it was nice, but kinda heavy. The restaurant is a haunt of all the young Tibetan girls and boys, and is usually full of them. The girls prefer having huge bowls of fruits, probably that is the secret of their slim figures. Yesterday as well as today a tiny puppy wandered in … he did not seem like a pet coz he was quite scrawny – but nobody seemed to mind his presence there. The restaurant has this small terrace looking out into the backs of the other buildings there. Quite a pleasant place to sit, but the tables are always full there.

I got bitten by a dog back in Bombay and today I have to get the last dose of my rabies vaccine, I have been worried all this time that I will not be able to find the vaccine in this small hill town, but I do, and also find a nice Doc who gives me an amazing painless shot, he almost jabs it into my but, like you see in the movies, and I did not even feel a pin-prick! Terribly relieved to have found my vaccine!

Dharmkot is the next destination, about 3 kms up from Mcleodganj. Ideally we should have walked it, but we are lazy bums, so take the Qualis.

Vipasana Centre, Dharmkot

Last time I came I remember seeing a sign for a pizza place, I was with my parents and you know how parents can be, when they don’t wana go somewhere they just don’t. So, I had made promises to come back right there some other time and spend all the time that I wanted to spend there. And here I was again, retracing my path. I did find it. It was this really quaint little joint, overlooking the valley and the snow capped Dhauladhar peak in the distance, which keeps playing hide and seek all the time. There are mostly foreigners there, and one odd Indian family, who came searching for the “Pizza Place” mentioned in their travel book. The son actually had the cheek to ask the guy if it was the same place – I think the guy just got bugged and said it wasn’t, there was another place in the town!

The pizza – hmm… quite amazing. We had chicken, garlic and olive pizza. It was better than any i’d had anywhere else, maybe I had better ones in Aurolville, but then they were cooked probably by Italians themselves! The entire pizza disappeared in less then ten minutes!

We have rested a bit now. Mutton momos are beckoning. The show today at 2115 hrs is “The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”. Strangely enough, you find it where you are least looking for it. The Sarvodaya Library at Pali Hill is always claiming it has gone out. i am pretty sure its not gonna be a disappointing film! Could it be that we also get to see “Motorcycle Diaries” tomorrow or are we expecting too much now??!!

11:45 pm –

Alright – saw the film – and the mind is in a tizzy right now! The “theatre” was small, warm and kinda suffocating, the seats were bad too, they were too narrow, so u really could not do much with it, could not put your feet up, could not even lean back and put your whole but on the seat! But the movie was so gripping that you just had to sit through! And it was fun – the whole experience and I think given the chance I would do it again. Tried deconstructing the movie, putting it into a linear narrative, maybe we cracked it maybe we didn’t. Don’t really know! Sometimes you deconstruct so deep that some flaws of the script mislead you. And most of these movies that mess with the memory and the mind have one or two minor flaws somewhere that completely sets you off into the wrong direction.

We rushed dinner as much as we could, Aj had a bowl of fruit, obviously inspired by the young Tibetan girls he is so much in love with, I had this huge bowl of chicken curry with Tingmo, which is steamed bread. Very nice but I didn’t have too much of an appetite and I was hurrying for the movie! Saw the tiny scrawny puppy again, today noone paid any attention to it, it just roamed around aimlessly around the place.

(These are parts of a travelogue me and Ajay wrote while going through some parts of Himachal... writing it all together will be too boring... so I am gonna keep adding bits and pieces once in a while from the travelogue)

Its been a while since I have really shot anything for myself. It seems all I can shoot and have eyes for is my son... ! It seems I get these jelly-fish like ideas... they slip away the moment I try and grasp them...
These pictures I took yesterday...