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.