Rafting in Rishikesh

Wind in my hair ..
sunlight on my face..
without a care ..
we set our pace ...
as we drive the road
freedom is near
it's in the air ..
but only we can hear ..
The smiles come quick ..
the miles go slow...
yo baby ..yo baby .. Rafting we go .....
to splash and plunge and laugh and shout
Till my heart tells me to come out
sand on my face, sand on my clothes,
sand everywhere ...
it sings in my ears ... it's in my hair ....
oh the river ... so wild and so cold...
oh the cliff jump ... I didn't know I was so bold...
white water rapids... the river's kiss
heartbeat pounding ...muscles stiff ...
laughter echoes .... memories made .. pure bliss

A Coffee at Jaisalmer

A dusty, cob webbed, fan above me twirls languidly,
swaying from the ancient tin ceiling, from a century ago....
There is longing arising in my heart
Like an old song floating on AIR radio....


Eyelids are heavy, throat dry and head saturated
the draw of caffeine is calling out from every vein.....
rub drooping eyes, put on the jersey, pick that wallet
waverly walking, reach that corner coffee shop again....


Welcome sir, welcome again ....good morning
Let me wrap your mind in warmth, let your senses thrill .....
yes please, please, the essence of dark roast, the heating within
with lingering aroma, let my soul and that mug fill .....


The gloom of this cloudy, dreary morning of this old town
when will the spying eyes of sunrise find me on these barren lands....
wavering through the chairs, like a fine delicate lace
Enveloping my senses, melted velvet darkness...comes to my hands..


So much more than flavor, this reddish gold and caramel
is a slurp of clarity, from god and his innocence ....
With liquid gold, I am a dreamer, I become a bee,
rain begins, heart brews, aahh this soulful essence ....

between each sip, each burst of taste, I think I am blessed
my eyes take in the beauty of this desert, mile after mile....
a tear trickles down my cold, sunburnt cheek, my heart is joyful
I close my eyes, bend my head, later see, the waiter smile ....

वो सवेरा ...और वह चाय की प्याली ...

उसके नाज़ुक हाथ...
ठंडी रेशम ....
नशीली आँखें ....
उसके वो गुनगुने ख़याल ....
वो खयालों की गहराइयां ....
वो एक आवारा लट ...
जो आँख का नशा और भी बढ़ा रही है ....


बीत चुके हैं ....
कई दशक ...
लेकिन वो नशीली आँख ...
आज भी कभी ...
डूब जाती हैं ...
यादों के समंदर में ...
और लौटती है एक आंसू के साथ ...


एक चांदी की चम्मच ....
चाँद को मिलाती ...
उसकी चाय की प्याली में ....
कुछ सफ़ेद चांदनी ...
डुबाती उस चाँद को ....


वो जानती है ...
की आज भी ...
वो उसे याद करता है ....


समेटती है ...
अपनी नाज़ुक उँगलियाँ ...
एक काले कप पे ...
अपने नाज़ुक होठ ...
सिकोड़ती हुई ...
आँखों में नशीली मुस्कान ...
फूंक मारती है ...
उस चाय की प्याली में ...
और चाय में से ..
भाप के रूप का ...
वह उसका दीवाना ....
नाचता हुआ ...झूमता हुआ ...
चूमता है उसके होठों को ....
और समा जाता है उसके होठों में .....
 सदा के लिए ... सदा के लिए ....

Black Tea ....Memories of Love ...& some French connection

13th Feb


Tring tring … tring tring; It’s my phone’s alarm. It’s dark outside; there is only a dim light of a street lamp entering the room through the tinted glass of my window. I switch on the light; the eyes take some time to adjust to the sudden burst of light. The empty whisky bottle is lying in a corner and the plastic glass as if drunk; is banging himself against the wall.
Smoking a cigarette also doesn’t make the "morning-ritual" easy, it’s too early for the stomach I guess.


Here I came to shit, but only farted.
Had come happy, but leave broken hearted.


I tie my bag on the rear seat of Chavi (my Bike) and start riding. It’s 5 AM now and I am headed to Pondicherry. I will be passing through Hosur, Krishnagiri, Thiruvanamalai, Gingee and Thindivanam. In total about 300 Kms.
Chavi is happy to be out at this time, she always is. She must be feeling cold for she coughs a few times, but only to remind me of the ‘off’ fuel tap.


There aren’t many people at this time on the road, only a few call-center cabs, sleepy looking car chasing dogs and a few joggers. It’s foggy this morning and I see my ghostly looking shadow in front of me in the air every time a car approaches from behind.


At 6:30, I am welcomed by the humble looking orange sun in Hosur. There is a small shop open and I drink a cup of tea boiled to sticky sweetness in an alluminium vessel. A dog standing next to me wags his tail and I share my bun with him. Chavi looks at me with an “I am hungry too” look and she is also given a tank full of petrol a few minutes later.


The sun glitters on the chrome of Chavi and she is happy for she knows it’s time I open her throttle. With increased visibility we speed up a little and reach Krishnagiri at 7:30. At a small shop I decide to eat something. A loaf of bread is gulped down with a bottle of local cola named “love one”. The air is filled with sweet smell of burning wood used in chullah, a farmer is going to his fields and another one returning, elderly women broom their courtyards, a few crows nibble at a dead rat and kids go to school on their bicycles (occasionally waving and smiling at me). I notice, all of them have green color bicycles. Must be some “go-green” concept.


With a few breaks, I continue riding further. Chavi isn’t too happy now as there are a lot of potholes here. Still, she doesn’t complain and continues.


Why am I going to Pondicherry? This is where I was last year when lot of things in life started getting worse. This city has a lot of memories buried under it’s sandy beaches, a lot of emotions drowned in the it’s waves. They have to be revisited.


Early morning, the breeze blows,
I, on the bike weep…..
Ride to forget the sorrows,
To heal the wounds so deep…..
Thanks Chavi, for being there,
Far, far away, take me somewhere…..


At 11 AM, having crossed paddy fields, coconut grooves, hay laden bullock carts, farmer’s bent on their waists in their fields, herds of goats, Luna’s driven by men wearing lungi and no slippers and lot of kids going to school on their “green bicycles”, I am now about 250 kms away in Thiruvanamalai.
I stop for a small break at a road side shop to rest my sleepy buttock and am told that the green bicycles are donated by Government to school kids.


Crossing Thindivanam in a hurry with a quick lunch, at 2 PM I reach Pondicherry and check in at a hotel on the way to Cuddalore and freshen up.
Evening is spent at Chunnambur beach and then at Kailash beach, both on the way to Cuddalore.


Chunnambar beach is also known as Paradise Beach and is reachable by a short ride on a boat. Kailash beach is not popular among tourists; it is basically a fishermen colony. I sit alone for a while and read “Khalil Gibran” until the visibility forces me to close the book.


At Kailash beach I meet a fishermen named Suresh, we talk about various things. He understands Hindi (which is rare in Tamil Nadu) because he has spent some time in Mumbai as a construction worker. I am invited for dinner and I humbly accept it. He says he leaves for fishing at 3 AM and returns at 6 AM, I promise him to meet tomorrow morning at the beach again. Dinner is a very delicious fish curry with rice on banana leaf. We eat sitting on the floor. The house smells pleasant with freshly burnt incense sticks. His family is poor but very generous. He has 2 kids and they both go to school. They don’t have green bicycles.


At night I go to ‘Le Café’ on the rock beach. I buy a cup of black tea with no sugar and sit on the rocks with a cigarette. I take every sip slowly; very slowly with closed eyes, humming the song “Lehron ki tarah yaadein, dil se takraati hain” (like waves, the memories crash against my heart). With every sip my face is sprayed by salty water from the waves crashing against the rocks.
It was the early morning mist in Shimla which was on our faces when I and Paree (my lost love) had gone to Shimla together.


The last one year has been painful. Oh, the heartache, those sleepless nights, the feeling of being lonely, the unsuccessful search for peace.


With time, I hope, the sharp painful edges of the rocks of memories will smoothen, like the waves have smoothed these rocks on this beach.


A little far, under the dim light of a street lamp a couple sits, lonely, without much talking, hand over shoulders, enjoying the breeze and togetherness. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.


Buying a bottle of port-wine I go back to the room and sleep at about 2 AM. Chavi is parked outside. Thankfully this place is not very cold. She will be comfortable.


14th Feb.


With sleep deprived and wine rich red eyes I wake up at 5:30 and go to Kailash beach to meet Suresh again. The morning is so beautiful on the beach, the colors, the music of the waves, the smell, the feel of sand under the feet.
I watch the sunrise and click a few photographs and after a few minutes see Suresh return on his boat with a net-full of fish. It hasn’t been a good catch today. I share a cigarette with him and bid farewell to him. I give him 2 T-shirts which I had purchased yesterday evening for his kids. He refuses initially but later respects my feeling.


I walk on the streets of the fishermen colony for a while and am offered a cup of tea while taking photograph of a girl making Rangoli in front of her door. This kind of hospitality has died in big cities. How good are these people, how much love they have within.
I buy a lotus from a old lady and gift it to my beloved Chavi. She is happy. A tear trickles down her cheek. I kiss her gently on her belly.


Later in the Noon, I spend some time walking on the streets of the French colony (while Chavi enjoys sunshine at the hotel) going over lot of things in my mind, realizing a lot of things about life, love, money and happiness. How mad have we become running behind the worldly things. We have forgotten to live and to love. Most of us are dead already and waiting to die. How true is OSHO in saying “Everyone wants to be somebody … but no one wants to be nobody”.


I visit the Aurobindo ashram and am filled with a peaceful feeling. A little later, I eat Chicken Salad at ‘Le Café’ as lunch and enjoy the sea and the crowd again for some time. There are lot of couples here today with red roses in their hands. With moist and closed eyes I picture Paree with a red rose in her hand. She is smiling, she must be happy. I go over the last Valentine’s Day and let the tears roll down my cheeks until the waiter comes with the bill.


AT 4 PM I go back to the room to start back for Bangalore. Chavi is happy to see me and starts in half-kick.


I get lucky to see a “KA-03” Tempo Traveler in front of me just after coming out of the city. This becomes my ‘escort’ for the rest of the journey and with effortless driving and just 1 break, I am back in Bangalore at 12 midnight. I drink the leftover of yesterday’s wine and sleep. At 3, I am awakened by a dream. Paree has sent me a Valentine’s gift. I try to reenter the dream but it’s difficult now.

The bucket list

The bucket list so far ....
1. Pluck an apple from a tree and eat.
2. Milk a yak.
3. Trek alone in the zanskar for a month.
4. Accompany a sadhu in his travel.
5. Follow a river from it's origin to the end.
6. Learn sign language.
7. Meet a person with donated eyes.
8. Teach computer to kids in a village school.
9. Go on a road movie vacation in rajasthan's villages with my projector.
10. Meet a terrorist and talk.
11. Meet Medha patkar and Arundhati roy.
12. Spend a night under open sky in jungle.
13. Go travelling with no money.
14. Work in a movie.
15. Gift someone a honeymoon.
16. Attempt the everest once atleast.
17. Master one music instrument.
18. Learn horse riding and ride in a meadow in hills.
19. Read a namaz inside a masjid.
20. See indian border from 4 sides.
21. Dance naked in moonlight.
22. Visit Baroda and sit in my old school's ground.

Religion ... What's that? haven't they murdered god already ?

Could it be possible that god is dead ..
Yes ... Could be ..or may be he is dead ...
Oh yes ....he is infact ...didn't you hear ..the high-court told us he was born somewhere under a demolished mosque ... He ''was'' born ...and he ''is'' dead ...
God bless his soul ..may he Rest in Piece(of land) ...sorry..Peace...

यूँ ही ज़िंदगी ज़ाया गयी ...

सुबह का सूरज देखा ... वह भी गुस्से से लाल था...

सुबह की ठंडी ओस अभी भी बालकनी की रेलिंग पे थी लेकिन किसी ने महसूस न की थी....

आज फिर हवा दरवाज़ों के बीच "पक्द्दम  पक्द्दाइ" खेलेगी .. पर कोई न देखेगा.... 


आज फिर शाम को बारिश की बूँदें खिड़की के कांच की 'फिसलपट्टी' पे फिस्लेंगी ..पर कोई ध्यान न देगा ...

आज फिर रात को चांदनी, छत्त पे 'छुपन छुपाई खेलेगी ..पर किसी को फुर्सत न होगी ...

क्योंकि सब घिरे होंगे बेमानी फ़िज़ूल के काम करने में .....


और पता भी न चलेगा कब यूँ ही ज़िंदगी ज़ाया गयी ....

Travel tales: Rishikesh triveni ghat

I am at Rishikesh, The sun has taken its dip in the horizon, the air is thick with the assorted smoke of various insense sticks. Beggers beg at various places,
Ganga is covered in a blanket of mist and just when it's about to get dark, a lot of people prepare to start the evening aatri of the holy ganga.
I park myself in a corner to watch the holy daily ritual.
A pandit starts chanting the aarti and along with it starts the circular motion of the huge lamps.
I notice a small boy wearing a white torn shirt which by now has become pale, a black jeans with enigma written on one thigh and a knitted white skull cap on his head in one corner, safely away from the hindu crowd.
I wondered how he arrived here, fearless as he seemed, curiously watching the whole thing. And as the aarti finished, he moved slowly towards the exit, removed his skull cap and his shirt and started begging along with the other beggers there.
I watch him from a distance for some time until he is lost in the crowd.
I saw him again that day while walking down a old street, eating chowmein at a roadside stall.
I wanted to talk to him but could not think of a possible way to start the conversation.

Learning to 'LIVE' ...

A mechanic, a cup of coffee, a story and a question

I am sitting at a mechanic's shop to get my bike repaired from a mechanic (a mechanic ''by choice and not by need) named Nandan. While the assistant fixes a few nuts and bolts, I ask him to join me for a cup of coffee at the shop next door. He politely agrees. Prolixity is not alien to us in India and we start talking. While chatting he tells me an impressive story.

Here it goes ....

Once upon a time, there lived a king in a small kingdom. The king had a pet Dog named Tommy. The king loved Tommy a lot and Tommy loved the king a lot. They both just could not live without each other. There wouldn't be a single day when the king would skip Tommy's evening walk. There would be 3 servents to clean after Tommy. No matter what the kingdom has to eat, Tommy would always get the best of the meat. Even if there is a draught in the kingdom, Tommy would get the best to drink and his evening fresh water swim. There would be the best, only branded stuff for the dog to wear.....smallest details like the hair brush would be taken care of with great attention.
One day the king comes home in the evening and he is upset about something, may be he had lost a war with nearby kingdom or may be he had a fight with the queen. Upon seeing the king coming, the dog ran towards him wagging his tail and hanging his tounge, the king kicked the dog hard and that's it, the dog went flying for a few meters and hid under a bed for the rest of the day. He didn't dare to come out.

In the same kingdom there was another dog, a stray dog, he gets to eat if someone has offered him food, gets loved if someone plays with him, he gets to drink if there is some water alongside the road or near a water tap. He gets wet when it rains, gets scorched in the sun on a sunny day, shivers when it's cold.

and at the end, he asked me a question.....Which dog would you choose to be??

The trap ....a little philosophy ...

Sometimes...answers come from the most unexpected places.
This time it was from a story about a monkey and a hunter, I was reading for my niece.

Ever wondered how they catch monkeys in madhya pradesh's jungles?? Easy....they tie a glass bottle to a tree and keep some peanuts inside it. The neck of the bottle is just enough for the monkey's hand to go in. The monkey comes and while trying to get to the peanuts, he puts his hand inside and grabs the peanuts. But alas...the bottleneck is not wide enough for the fist to come out ... Its just wide enogh for the empty hand to come out. However, the greed of this little extra peanut is so much that he just cannot let go of it.
He sees the hunter coming to catch him but still, he doesn't let go of it. He sees him getting more and more closer and screams and shouts but doesn't let go of it. He knows he will be imprisioned for life...but still ......... He knows everything but just can't get to the idea that he has a choice ...he can leave the peanuts.

It just reflected upon me that this is how most of us are nowadays. No matter what ... We don't leave the fistful of peanuts, and our peanuts are in the form of white collar job, greed for money, status and luxury, relationships....and what not......
I see my job doesn't allow me time for anything else, including the much needed time for the loved ones, but no, I can't settle for a lesser paid job which would allow some time.
The car I drive gives me back-ache but I am consious about my status and would never travel by a metro train or the local.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 13

We get up early and start riding in rain itself.
At about 9 we stop and a dhaba to have breakfast. Our bikes are parked outside and an innova stops by, a sardar driver comes out of the innova and looking at the bikes asks 'where are you coming from'?
From Leh, I reply.
Oh great, lucky guys, he exclaims.
Yes, lucky that we got a chance to do this trip, we smile, and reply.
Oh no, not lucky that way, but to have come alive, he said with strange look on his face.
Why?? It's not so difficult, we reply looking at each other with looks saying ''sardar paagal hai kya'??.
Now, the sardar says, ohh, so you don't know the news. Leh had a cloud burst yesterday and hundreds have died, there were flashfloods that washed away everything....
WHAT??? We stare at each other and then stare at the sardar who is smiling now at our innocence.
What just happened?? We escaped death again....narrowly ...

Worried about our fellow riders and with a really weird mix of feelings we left this place and called our homes to inform them we were safe and out of Leh.

We could not reach Delhi the same day because of rains and bad weather.
Stayed overnight at some place after jalandhar and by next day afternoon we were at Delhi.

Finally at home I say to myself .... ''this was definately a ride to heaven and back .... Through hell'' .... I recall reading somewhere a scripture from Buddha ... The way to heaven is through hell ... I stand as a testimony to it today....

Bus yun samajh lije....ek aag ka dariya hai aur doob ke jaan hai .... Jo nikla so doob gaya...aur jo dooba so paar ....

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 12

Lazily we get up after sleeping for 12 hours in the damp tent, there is loud devottional music blaring out of lodspeaks everywhere, somehow my experience with all the hindu devotional pilgrim places has been very bad, they are all filthy, crammed and people have no civic sense, be it haridwar, rishikesh, tirupathi, kumbh or this amarnath. We go out and again have free tea and biscuit.

In some time we are informed that the next convoy will leave in some time and lot of empty buses have arrived at night to take away the stranded passengers. We prepare our bikes and load the luggage and stand in the front for the convoy.

In a few minutes, there are three army trucks full of ammunition clad fierce looking overtired soldiers with their guns pointed outside in front of us. A few civil vehicles and then again a fully loaded truck of Army, this was to escort us safely through Srinagar....or not as we discover later!!!!
Riding slowly behind the army convoy we reach srinagar's border when we are stopped and vehicles seperated for jammu and for srinagar airport. This takes time and we finish our free lunch at a langar nearby in the meantime.
Post lunch, we are asked to follow the army trucks again and these will lead us through srinagar to jammu. The situation did seem extremly delicate with army present on both sides of the road. With the 'shoot at sight' words in mind it appeared even worse, good news was, the army was informed about the yatri movement and those roads which see yatri movement were guarded heavily but the sight of millions of soldiers with guns in their hands is scary.
We follow the convoy for some time and suddenly realize there is no army truck in front, shit!!! Where did they vanish!! Now, we didn't know which way to follow and we knew that only the highway To jammu is safe, but which is the highway, all roads look the same...other roads have strict orders. What followed was a mad rat race to cross srinagar, driving at no less that 80 and 100 we scurried through the streets and scared, tensed but sure thrilled, after 3 hours of riding came out of the 150 kms curfew affected area.....ohh man....what a relief it was to cross Jawahar tunnel, one that seperates kashmir and jammu.

We could not reach Jammu as we had planned due to heavy rains and landslides, we stayed at patnitop, 100 kms before Jammu.

FW: Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 11

Today with lot of apprehensions we start for Srinagar.

On the way we pay our homage to the braves at the Kargil war museum and witness the tiger hill and the war zone.
Crossing zojila we see the base camp of amarnath yatra and get allured by the free food and get drifted towards the parking.
We eat free lunch amidst Anup Jalota, Hari Om Sharan and Jagjit Singh and other confectioners, all of them simultaneously droning out from several different cassete players and load speakers. At one occasion I hear a devotional remix of the song ''choli ke peechey kya hai''.

As we return, a news awaits us, we are now part of the yatri crowd and can't leave without the army convoy and nobody knows when the next convoy will leave.

Agitated to the core we try convincing the CRPF, Army and the JK police but our requests fall on deaf ears and we come to know there is a 'shoot at sight' order issued in Srinagar and hence they are not allowing anyone cross it.

Unwillingly we convince ourself to stay here at the base camp until the next convoy leaves, it rains the whole day and we are confined to the small tent we have rented out.
The only fun comes from the free food and delicasies that are offered to the yatris, of which we are one now.
In evening, warming myself by an open tandoor, a yatri starts to chat with me, he complains about the high rates of the tents here which are managed by muslims(as this place has muslim local population). Automatically the topic changes from expensive tents to muslims and later from muslims to VHP and later from VHP to killing all muslims. These so called yatris, wear rudraksh, chant ram-ram, visit temples, abhor meat and alcohol but conceal murder in their heart. I wanted to ask him if he knew that the amarnath shrine was found by a muslim, but I stop myself.

We relish on free delicasies like jalebi, pakodis, poori, ras malai, aloo tikki, moong daal halwa and barfi and sleep under the blaring noise of Anuradha Podwal, Anup Jalota and all other T-Series folks.

FW: Rode to heaven ... Throuag hell-Day 10

Yesterday's adventure was too much on the body and I am also sufferring from flu. I am surviving on paracetamols and combiflams since last 2 days, thankfully the body is strong enough to take the roughness.
We have to decide which route to take to get back to Delhi, some say take the route via Manali but the road is bad and continous rains have caused frequent landslides and overflowing rivers, the streams we had crossed must have swollen into full fledged rivers by now.
Others say we take the srinagar route to see the beauty that side but then srinagar is on curfew.
We decide to take the Srinagar route, god knows for what reason.
For today we reach Kargil and stay there.

Riding dry for the first time seems blissful. Crossing the moonland like
Landscape we reach kargil by the evening and stay at a lodge.
Dinner on Akarsh's suggestion is at a maniac sardar's dhaba. A strange guy, he is an army retired, taunts you on everything, you sit down to eat and he says 'don't face that side'. You pick the glass and he says, use the other hand, you start to eat and he says 'did you wash hand', you wash hand and he says, wash it for minimum 20 seconds, you push your chair and he says 'you have blocked the pathway', you lift the water jug and he says....the list is never ending. We were briefed about this by Akarsh earlier and hence were having fun looking at each other.

FW: Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 9

We get up fresh and head towards pangong tso, a 125 kilometers long saltwater lake in the himalayas which spreads from India to Tibet to China. It is a clear symbol of natures craftmanship.

Virgin crystal blue water like a veil on a gorgeous fairy's face, with clouds hanging in sky like small angels of the fairy, tall mountains guard the fairy from everyone and slowly the lover sun, fighting against the mountains, starts slowly to gaze at the fairy's face, sun's rays hit the surface and reflect and the fairy as if blushing and shying from the sun's rays the changes colours from orange in early morning to greenish turquoize to deep blue and then for a few hours they remain as one, as a witness to this eternal love a seagull flies past and sits and pecks at a stone on the bank.
Again, no amount of words can describe the beauty of this lake.
We spend a few hours at the lakeside and drive back to Leh and spend the night here.
At night I wonder how the lake would look like on a full moon night and resolve to spend a night next year at the lake. I am sure fairies descend at night here and dance and make merry.

FW: Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 8

A few birds chirp outside my tent and as I come out, I see butterflies all around, red one's, green one's, the customary yellow with black patches,small one's, big one's ....ahhhh jannat....(aahhh heaven)....
We plan to go to pangong tso today ...the famous lake with its pristine blue waters. The map on Lonely Planet book says we have to cross khardungla and go towards Leh and then head towards changla and to pangong tso but a trekking map says there is an alternate route via Agam and Wari la, which will save us 100 kms. Upon enquiring from army we get to know that the road was built but has been washed away by river shyok. We ask army if they would help us in crossing it and are informed of dire consequences.

Anyways, determined as we were, we plan to take that route no matter what. We are six and can handle anything. Thanks to the indian mentality,'fati bhi hogi to friends ke beech mein nahi dikhatey hain ki fati hai'.

As soon as we start towards Agam we realise what we have decided to get into, no roads and no habitation for kilometers together. nobody, including vultures would know if we died here. There are no signs of roads at many patches and there are free flowing water streams everywhere, some of them are easy to cross like potholes and some are so huge and furious we all have to hold one bike at a time with full strength and cross while keeping ourself stable and forgetting about suffering hypothermia or severe cold feet.
Crossing these water streams, finding our way just by maps and crossing another horrfying high altitude pass Wari la where even the army has abandoned it's post due to the weather and less oxygen we reach a village Shakti from where we are told pangong tso is about 85 kms. After the gruelling and almost killing ride (or call suicide attempt) we reach Tangste about 40 kilometers from pangone tso.
We spend the night here as the sun has set.
Reflecting on the day I realize I should be thankful for being safe and a major thank shall go to Chavi(my bike) for sustaining through.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 7

Recovering from the altitude sickness but suffering from flu now, today we leave for khardungla and nubra valley.
Eating a quick breakfast we started towards khardungla which is the highest motorable road in the world, its at 18700 feet above sea level. At this level the oxygen is so scarce the motorcycle like a bullet has difficulty negotiating the steep climb in first gear. I fiddle with the carburator to let in more air in the engine. With full throttle and quarter clutch, burning the clutch plates we somehow manage to touch. khardungla and congratulate ourself for the torture finally being over. But was it??? Downhill was even more torture.
Sitting behind Abhishek and falling twice, once in water and once on rubble, we reach at the bottom hill of khardung la.
Surviving solely on paracetamols we continue riding through amazingly beautiful and slowly changing landscape. From snow clad mountains we descend towards river bed plains and get into giant red colour canyons and again into river bed greenery and as if out of 'aliice in wonderland' enter desert, desert like real rajasthan desert in the mid of himalayas, from yaks, the traditional animal changes to double humped black camels.
By night 8 we are at Khalsar in the Nubra valley. One bike has gone missing but we are able to find it after a little effort.
We stay at tirith camp, the most beautiful camping site I have ever seen in my life. A little expensive but right out of heaven, our tent is surrounded by exotic wild flowers of the himalayas and the camp is surrounded by snow clad mountains which shimmer gold at sunrise. The area where we dine is a small canopy of trees and apricots and apples fall from the trees. So many of them that people here don't bother to pick them, I pick plenty of them and eat till I am satisfied.
At night we all jumble up and share jokes and I take my last paracetamol for the day and am off to sleep.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 6

Reaching Leh we meet the 6th member of the group, Goldy, who has taken a flight to Leh due to the social pressure from his family considerate of the dangers involved in a motorcycling trip.
Goldy is an amazing guy with great sense of humour, you just love his company and his wit comes alongwith his caring nature. Just looking at this guy makes you smile, dressed in a green pullover and a denim jeans, he is a slightly plump, red cheeked guy similar to Vinay Pathak (a little more plump) from the movie 'khosla ka ghosla', a shy smile, hairstyle of Amir Khan (a little more hairy) from taarey zameen par and torso like Abhishek Bacchan(a little more in inches).

We plan to get the bikes serviced today for the days ahead. Sadly there is a strike due to hike in petrol prices and we have to push the trip to the mechanic to evening. With time in hand now we take a leisure walk to the shanti stupa, a time capsule with sealed scriptures for the future generations.
Back from stupa we head to the mechanic back on the road towards manali, I became extra carefull while overtakiing busses, I didn't want someones lunch over me as I had seen happening with a fellow rider.
With the bikes fixed, we head back to the hotel room and sleep.
Today was just a laid back day.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 5

With severe headache I get up and start the bike and move on. Again at this place we ran out of money and begged from a fellow group a 1000 rupees to pay for the accomodation.
The day has been most easy compared to the journey so far. Just a easy ride and by afternoon we were at Leh.
The road was good and the scenary just out of heaven. The scenary changes slowly from plains to hills to canyons around, the sky looks pure blue with pure white clouds scattered around. The land is barren but the soil has so many colours in it, from dark red it changes to shiny silver hinting the presence of mica in it, to purple like brinjal to brown to black to sometimes greenish....amazing work by god.... No amount of words can describe the beauty here. It can only be felt by one, specially by those who have for some time left behind the frantic hankering for wealth, fame, status and all other adman's fantasies and are unabashed in their love for life, travel and nature.
Occasionally one comes across villages, small old houses with slopy roofs, trees encircling the boundry, the courtyard shining bright orange with corn kept to dry outside, chinese looking faces, yaks, cows, shepherds, women carrying firewood on their backs, children with sunburnt cheeks playing alongside the roads, wheat fields, such laid back life, they have nothing to do with the outside world, they are self 'content', they have nothing but still everything...they are so different than us, we the up-market crowd in our Levis t-shirts, Woodland shoes, Wrangler jeans, Jockey briefcases.

I am especially touched by the Gaddis, the local shepherds. Their nomadism bemuses me. These short, colourfully dressed, benign-looking shepherds are on their way to home and just 4-5 months, they will be out again, winters in the valley, summers in the high passes and this has been their routine for centuries, embodying an old forgotten idea of content. Leading a simple and 'Happy' life.

Leh on the contrary is like any other hill station in India. It has nothing to be written about and I am definately not hurting my thumb punching details about this place on my cell phone writing this blog. No wonder almost every traveller uses this place just as a transit point to the places nearby.
Oh yes... I haven't told you... all this while I wasn't riding the bike but sitting behind a lunatic speedster named Akarsh(I hope he is reading this)....I have reached Leh in one piece and no amount of self congratulation seems enough for this.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 4

The mechanic took a grueling 6 hours yesterday...no,no...not on the bikes, but to wait for the turn. Eventually I had to fix half the bike myself. I realized, The route is a killer and almost 10 bikes at the mechanic shop had only 2 problems, worn out clutch plates and disc brake pads.

Thanks to the mechanic and the weather(it's cold and one doesn't feel thirsty), I get up with a hangover sort of headache. I drink a lot of water and take a tablet to avoid altitude sickness as we will be gaining a lot of altitude today.
Looking at the sky brings some relief and a smile, it's sunny.

A fly hovers around my cup of tea, a begger begs next to me, with one hand I shove away the fly and with other hand make a roll of my parantha and push it down my throat. My rubber gum boot bites me at 2 places and I imagine my feet having blisters like Karishma's on the saurkundi trek.

We are informed that the bridge has collapsed but the BRO (border roads organization) has repaired the road somehow to allow traffic to pass. There is a stream of water about 2 feet high to be crossed to continue towards Leh.

For next few hours it's only nice roads, dry weather and the thud-thud of bullet.
There are many bad patches of roads that we cross, mainly the pain is water crossing where you cross water streams of high speed flowing water about 2 feet high and 10 to 20 meters wide.

We are joined by another british couple who occasionally need our help at the water crossings.

Our target for today is Pang and by 8 pm we are just about 10 kilometers away from it when we see there is a patch of road about 20 meters wide washed away by water. There is a whole river flowing where a few hours ago used to be a road. I try to step in to see how deep the water is and am almost swallowed by the river. The water is only knee deep but the flow is so fast I can't stand there for a second. The water is super super super cold and terrible fast flowing and if this was not all, we are at 15000 feet and oxygen is scarce. Ever blown at an ant sitting on your hand and itching you???? We felt like that....We have just 2 options, cross it risking life or die here of hypothermia.
We park our bikes on this side and form a human chain and one step at a time cross the stream heavily panting and thanking ourself we are alive.
Now all 5 of us grab 1 bike with full force at a time and with slow and firm feet cross the river stream, come back, take the second bike(which almost fell off), come back take the third bike (and everytime my gum boots get filled with ice cold water and I empty them again and again and cry with pain from cold) and this whole process takes half an hour and my feet are numb. They are so numb I can't feel them(those who did saurkundi trek with me will understand) and request my t-shirt to be burnt with petrol to get some heat, unfortunately the match box is wet and the lighter doesn't work due to lack of oxygen...ggrrrhhhh.....I scream out at god for few minutes....
Half dead I reach Pang and like god was listening to my painful groan, there is a stove lit outside the tent we plan to live in. I warm my feet and since I can't feell them, I actually end up burning them a little....
Dinner and sleep, forget about them ..the lack of oxygen is working on us, almost all of us feel all the symptoms of altitude sickness.....including the bikes.... The combustion inside the bikes is half done and this has reduced the bullets to a mere hero-puch at this altitude.
I sleep but with cold feet and difficulty in breathing.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 3

Naggar is a small silent town, I have loved my stay here. It's a little off the map for Indian tourists and one finds mostly foreigners here. Thankfully there are no honeymoon couples, no mall road, no fast food joints, no beggers, no roadside stalls selling shiny trinkets, no glass boxes marked STD-ISD-PCO, no raunchy posters of third grade movies.

It has been raining non stop for last 24 hours, Harish, our local friend says it has never rained so much here, I blame it on the global warming.
It's about 4 in the morning and we have to leave now to reach the desired destination by sunset.
We are now 5 people on 3 bikes.
With sleep deprived and rum rich red eyes we start our bikes and start riding through rain, fog, slush and wind and to add to the irony, Bryan Adams is singing in my ears ''the summer of 69''. There are apple trees like weed here, Almost every 30 seconds I see an apple fallen on the road and want to pick it but nobody else stops.

We plan to reach Sarchu today.

Driving at this time is a pain and like 'cream on my cappuchino', I have 'water inside my jacket'. I have only heard from people about the road to rohtang pass and it sure sounds scary, I will experience it first hand today.

Riding through rain and fog and bad roads we reach a little before Rohtang pass and see trafic piled up. Guess what!!!! There is a land slide and we see a whole hill slowly sliding down in parts on the road ahead. naaahh...if you thought we would stop here.... You are wrong. Like idea out of emptied bottle of whisky, 2 of us decide to stand on either side of the landslide and signal the bike riders to cross in a jiffy to avoid falling rocks. This done, we start again but the road is pure hell now. Imagine this, get one truck load each of water, loose gravel, mud, large rocks, cow dung and some sharp stones and you are asked to ride through this and not just this, on one side you have a deep gorge waiting for you. This was the sort of road we got.
Abhishek has had some 4 falls in just 3 hours of riding. The road is bad and the bikes are taking a toll because of the altitude and the roads or better say 'no roads'.
Ruchir had no idea before starting from Delhi that the trip will be like this and he is extremly unhappy but haa to stick-on with us now. He says .... ''kamino, tumney merey holiday ka adventure banwa diya'' he doesn't know this is just the tip of iceberg.

The exuberant melodious thumping of a royal enfield bullet trudging up the steep roads is the best sound you can hear in the hills.
Slowly but continously and agonizingly riding we reach Keylong and decide to get the bikes fixed upon knowing there is a mechanic here. As we park our bikes, a group of people standing on a corner of the hill facing the road to Leh scream out ...''beh gaya...oye beh gaya'' ...washed away oye washed away ..we ask them ...''what???'' and are told, the bridge has been washed away by a landslide. Awestruck, we look at each other's face not knowing what to say ... We would have been crossing that bridge had we not decided to stop at the mechanic. What did we just do??? Escaped death once again.
Now that the road is closed we stay at night at Keylong in a hotel. This is when we realise we are short of cash because nobody remembered to withdraw cash at Manali. We beg money from fellow riders and promise them to pay at Leh.

Escaped danger at rohtang pass landslide, keylong bridge collapse, begged money from passing by motorcyclists and sweetheart, this is just the begining.
Oh man....what a day!!! I am off to bed like a dead body and later have a dream of being hit by a truck and thrown off the hill into the river ...the whole night I see eagles and vultures hovering over my head.

Rode to heaven ... Through hell-Day 1 & 2

Tring tring ... It's my phone. It's 4 in the morning. It's still dark outside, only a faint light of a street lamp enters the room through the tinted glass of the window. It's silent except the noise of the ceiling fan, a dog barks outside, the laptop's blue light blinks every 2 second telling me it's in sleep mode. The room is still scatterred from the packing last night. The bag looks very small for going to ladakh but it has all the things I need. I take the bag and move out silently leaving the door unlocked, they would understand I have left.
I meet Akarsh at 5 in Delhi and start off with a target to reach Manali by evening.
My joblessness doesn't allow me to ride the bike. I am giving the bike on sort of rent for the trip to avoid the petrol and bike's expenses, however this means I get a chance to see the beauty of the valley without worrying about the driving, not a good tradeoff though if you are a motorcyclist.
I meet Akarsh, Abhi, Ruchir and start riding. We have the Indian tricolor on our bikes and seem to be attracting lot of attention.
The roads are good and after a long exhausting ride we reach Naggar (near Manali, where we stop at a friend's place) by night 8. We eat some dinner and are off to sleep.
The next day is also spent in Naggar relishing some local food and a small trip to Manali in the afternoon to buy some essentials for the trip.
Manali has a general purposelesness hung heavy in it's atmosphere. It's crammed, new and ugly.
I am under impression this is going to be a cake walk, only to have a face off with reality later.

A question from "Samaaj" ...

Well.. this one is for the "samaaj" ....I was asked a question related to my so called "joblessness" ...
"So ... kuch kamana wamana hai life mein ya saari umar naukri chod ke he baithna hai?? koi goal hai life ka?"

I didn't think about it at that time but later in the evening the following thought striked... don't know how to expalin this to them... anyways.. they won't understand ...

Life has no aim .... Life's aim is life itself. Higher life, deeper life, more life but life itself.

Life is the aim of everything. Hence, life cannot have an aim other than life itself.


We all carry a hollow inside us. Like my hollow is for travel. . .as long as that hollow is not filled . . I will be restless.

When I listened to my heart and shut my mind down ...

Not all was going well in life and when this happens, you start thinking much about life.

A thought struck me that when I die, god will ask me just one question ... ''son, I gave you a life...did you live it'' ...and I knew the answer was a big NO. I decided that I would listen to what my heart says and stop thinking from the mind. I decided to start living my life the individual's way not the crowd's way now and do things that make me happy. Travel was one thing that has always kept my spirits high, so I decided to travel, only to realize later that this was just the beginning of a very joyful life.



To start with I decided to travel from bangalore to delhi on my bike. On the way, I stopped in Mangalore in the campus of NITK Surathkal with few friends for 5 days and decided to do a trek in Kumara Parvata and it was fun, great joy and peace was over me. We spent a night in the forest on the peak and since some calculations went wrong, we were without food and shelter there. We somehow managed to light a fire to avoid any wild animals and slept under the open sky. After a really really long time I saw the night sky in full glory, oh, what a scene to behold it was. I tried to sleep but was woken up at about 2 am by a nightmare of wild animals surrounding us. As I woke up I looked towards the forest and saw that the sky had come down on earth and the stars were twinkling right next to me and they were scattered all around and it was really very pleasant, I don't know if there is god, but it sure was an experience of godliness, and then as I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, I realised that it wasn't the sky but these were a million fireflies in the dark of the forest displaying their magnificient show only for me (until I woke up others). It was ....it was ... Words are so bad ..you can never find a good one when you need it. While returning from the trek we stopped at a river bank and ended spending a full day there doing nothing. I realised on this day that doing nothing is very difficult because you never know when you finished.

I left mangalore and headed towards gokarna with a plan to spend a night there on the OM shaped beach. This was another beautiful experience.

Further on my travel I stopped for lunch at a place called Jhulwania in MP and met a few people who looking at my bike guessed that I am a traveller and asked me to visit a nearby place called bawangaja, there qas nothing here of interest and I ended up spending the night in a small town called Bhidwani. In a dramatic turn of events I met Medha Patkar and Arundhati Roy here. These are 2 people I have been wanting to meet from a really long time.

This was the day I heard my heart talking to my soul and saying ... . ''listen to the heart and I will keep you happy...forever..... Mind will give you money and material pleasure....but heart will give you eternal joy''.

Just a week out on travel and I have spent a night in open, trekked amazing peak, felt godliness, spent a day at river, met people like Medha and Arundhati and above all....felt content....

Of lost love and Life ahead ...

In unchaiyon se meri bhook mite,
In jharno se mein trapt ho jaon,
Yeh pawan azaad hai, chanchal hai,
Is pawan sa ho jaon, kuch aisa kar do....

Is parvat pe mera dam nikley,
Is shweth barf mein dafn ho jaon,
Woh shweta thee, shweth thee,
Is shweth mein samaa jaon, kuch aisa kar do....


Is phool sa mehek paaon,
Is fal se mithas paaon,
Yeh paed sharaabi hai, madhosh hai,
Is paed sa jhoom paon, kuch aisa kar do...

Is titli se udna seekhon,
Is bhanwarey se khush hona seekhon,
Woh kaaran thee, astitva thee,
Is astitva ko jee paaon, kuch aisa kar do...

Chai Chilam Chappati Charpai

A cow moans outside the window and I am woken up. The room is still dark and it's cloudy outside. It's eight in the morning and I desperately need a cup of Chai.
I am in Manali... just the name strikes a few chords inside. This is a place with something to offer to every soul. I have myself been here 4 times and have found something new every time. Life here revolves around four things, chai, chilam, chappati and charpai.
Get up in the morning, drink a nice piping hot cup of Chai, eat something (Chappati) and then there would be definitely someone to offer you Chilam, smoke it, and go to bed (charpai) and ‘repeat’. Oh man ... isn't this the life everyone wants to live....




I was referred by a friend from Delhi to his friend in Manali and that's it, my stay and food for one week has been free and on top of that as the 'pahadi' culture has it, he has taken great care of me. He has shown me the local joints and places which otherwise would not have been possible. I have made some really good friends in the market.

One day, I was invited by a friend into his shop to talk over a cup of chai and I see a photograph amidst the photos of gods in his shop, the photograph of a lake, a lake like I have never seen before. Upon asking details he says this is Parashar lake, It's about 60 kilometers from here and this is a holy place with a temple on the bank of the lake. There used to be a sage with name "Parashar" and the locals believe in him and the temple was made by the local king during his times. There is a yearly fair that happens on the lake.

The next day I pickup my day pack and head towards the place. I am told to board a bus upto Bhutar and from there ask for lift as no public transport goes in that direction. I get lucky to get into a truck, which is being used to carry stones for building the road very close to the lake. The truck driver turns out to be a very nice guy and drops me off about 12 kilometers from the lake from where it's an easy trek. He also offers me his water bottle and a few apples for the trek ahead.

The first glance at the lake and I am short of words, there is just a shriek moan that came out. I rush down to the lake and park myself just a few meters away from the lake. Ahh, the beauty of it....

I stay here for a few hours and eat the tastiest 'daal-chaawal' at a small canteen nearby. I returned with a heavy heart back to the place where the road was being built and again someone drops me at the road on Bhuntar. Another 4 hours by bus and I am back in Manali.
I smoke a chilam and am off to bed. I am told in morning next day that I was smiling the whole night, they thought it was the extra charas in the chilam... but I know what it was ............

Hangover of some heavy reading ....

While I start writing this blog, I want to tell you that sometimes a mixture of photographs and words speak more than words alone. I am not a good writer, neither am a good photographer. But I request you to read this and then look at the photographs to get a feel of “Reason behind writing this blog”. Please spend at least 5 seconds on each photograph and try to submerge yourself in the place, people, sentiments and the ambience. Try to imagine yourself behind the lens of that camera which clicked the photograph.To see ALL the photographs please click below :

http://picasaweb.google.co.in/bhogvanp/SoloRideOfSouthernIndia?feat=email#

Not everything in life was going fine, a lot of things had messed up terribly and there was a constant wrestle of thoughts inside me and this was giving me sleepless nights. I was at a point where you start questioning yourself, Why live? For whom? Why do you need money? Where will I be 3 years from today? I was getting weak, mentally and physically; both. I knew I had to get out of this and give a sincere effort of looking at life from a different angle. With a passion for Motorcycling, I thought there would be no better way to travel. Travel to run away from thoughts and memories.

For some office work I had to travel to Chennai from Bangalore and this meant I had 4 days which I could use to travel. The itinerary was prepared as follows:

Day 1 – Bangalore to Chennai

Day 2 – Finish Office work and start for Pondicherry.

Day 3 – Start for Munnar.

Day 4 – Back to Bangalore.

So on Thursday morning 6 O’clock I and Chavi (my bike) started off for Chennai. Chavi was recently serviced and would serve a good company, good company as she talks to me at times; and when she doesn’t talk I get bored, so I carried my ipod also. The road is excellent till Chennai with few bad patches in Karnataka, once out of Karnataka you are driving comfortably without using much clutch or brake. With just one break for breakfast I was in Chennai at 12 noon and checked in at the guest house by 1:15 PM.

Evening was meant for Marina beach at Chennai. Once there I spend about 3 hours there looking at families, lovers, newly weds, old aged couples, evening joggers, dog walkers, yoga freaks, lonely kids, fishermen, lonesome guys, sunset watchers, dancers, beggers, gays, policemen on duty and etc etc. It felt good to park myself at a lonely corner of the beach and just watch all the above mentioned folks and think about them however this was again starting the typhoon of thoughts inside me, so I got up and walked further. Here I met 2 boys, probably from slum. They looked at me and asked for the Mirinda I was holding in my hand, handing over that and looking at their joy can’t be described in words. I spent a few minutes with them catching fish in polythene bags and giving them a chance to play with my camera. This made me happy and away from my thoughts for some time. I left these HAPPY kids with a question. Do you NEED Friends to be happy?

I also watched a couple sitting there with the sunset in the backdrop. Hardly talking to each other or even holding hands, but just the feeling of being together had the words “very satisfactory” written on their faces. We exchanged smiles as I passed by and realized, You NEED a Companion to be happy?

Next day morning after completing the office work I was free after 11 AM and once again I and Chavi were on the road to Pondicherry. Driving on the ECR (East Coast Road) was a good feeling. You drive on the road which is butter smooth and on your right you occasionally pass the sea beach. I spent about 30 minutes on a beach where I was the only soul. It felt good to be away from civilization for some time at least. I left this place with another question, Is Society NEEDED to be happy?

Just before entering Pondicherry, there is a site which spreads across many kilometers where they prepare salt from the sea water using evaporation. It was enlightening how they make this salt in very poor conditions with minimal use of machinery. They have designed a linked-channel system of many-many kilometers so that they can get salt water from the backwaters. You can only see their channels and salt as far as you can see. I spoke to one of the workers for about 30 minutes understanding the whole process, how they live life here, where their kids go to school, what their wives do, how tsunami affected them, how relief works were and all this without I knowing his language and he not knowing my language. I left the place with another revelation about life; you DON’T NEED to work on Computers or with Technology to earn your Bread.

From last few months I have been thinking “How much money is enough money”? Today I know the answer.Evening came in quick and I decided to stay in the small city where I was while the sun set. Got up early morning next day and once again both me and Chavi were on the road. I wondered if she was getting tired of me waking her up early in the morning from last 3 days, but I guess she was happy seeing the sunrise and the early morning breeze. I asked her if she was upset, she didn’t reply, I guess she was too busy enjoying the morning dew on her face. I asked her again if she still loved me and she again didn’t reply, I took the silence as a “yes”. A straight stretch of road lied ahead and she asked me “Honey, shall we?” and I obeyed her politely and was soon at 100 KMPH until she was happy. Riding continually for about another hour I felt that the right cheek of my butt was asleep, stopped, woke him up and after a break of 30 minutes was again riding.The ride until Munnar was pleasant with good roads, no butt blisters and with lots of lovely sights where Chavi would ask me to stop and take a picture of her with the background. She said “I feel at home today”.I always wanted to know “Is Love NEEDED in life?” … She gave me the answer today.By 12 Noon we were at the Ghat Road which is a uphill road and has 17 hair-pin bends and riding through all of them was absolute fun for both of us. I felt sorry for hurting her once, I rubbed her foot rest on the right side 5-6 times, I was getting too excited on the turns. She didn’t mind it though and gave me another question. Isn’t Forgiveness a GOOD thing?

At about 3 we were in Munnar and felt peace coming to this place. There was a serene silence here, the silence which once again brought back the tribulations inside. I rested myself at one of the view point overlooking the lovely tea gardens and the clouds playing hide and seek with the mountains.The evening was spent walking with my thoughts amidst the tea gardens and clouds. This was reminding me of a past trip to Shimla. We had been there 2 years back (WE here doesn't mean Chavi, I am talking about a sweet, pretty, lovely girl) and were walking hand in hand on one of the paths on a mountain. She got tired pretty soon and I was continually asking her to walk a little more, “ok, let’s walk upto that street light pole, that will be the last one” and this way we both must have crossed about 20 of them. Here in Munnar while I walked, it appeared as if these poles were asking me… “What happened, you alone this time? Where is she?” …I didn’t know what to answer them and continued walking ignoring them. I guess I felt a tear on my right cheek, I didn’t wipe it. The night came in quick and I went to my hotel room and slept.

Next day morning again I woke up 8050 at 6 o’clock and took her to the top most point in Munnar’s hills. She felt happy there, I guess she was weeping with joy, I saw a few tears on her face, I realized later that it was the morning dew.After this we were on the way back to Bangalore though the Chinnar wild life sanctuary. On the way I saw a place where a kid with his mom was selling oranges. From the smell I knew the oranges were sour but could not resist spending some time with them, so bought a few oranges there and played with the kid for some time. Left that place with a question. Is having a family and your kids NEEDED?

I know the answer is yes, just don’t know when god will answer my prayers.I left Munnar with a question. Do you need a Good Job, a Good Home, Good Clothes and Good Food OR you just need job, home, clothes and food.Riding for another 18 hours with a few breaks in between, I was back in Bangalore. It was an attempt to run away from memories and thoughts but I came back with more thoughts and memories and questions.

Questions still trouble me, Memories are getting stronger with days passing by, Thoughts still wrestle inside, All I can say to myself is, have hope and pray to Lord and he shall bring you peace.