Saturday, October 01, 2011
Thursday, September 01, 2011

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Monday, August 22, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Tuesday, August 09, 2011

Monday, August 08, 2011
Day-1 - waiting, waiting and waiting
I had some work to be completed. Even I didn't want to miss this trip, it was important deadline not to be missed. So I worked- day in and day out to complete it. The flight to Calcutta would take off at 6:20AM - with or without me and since I was not very good with alarms, I thought of not sleeping at all! It was raining in Mumbai when I left the campus, fortunately I didn't have any umbrella with me. So reached the airport all drenched. The so called elitist people of the society were giving this weird look which literally translated meant " where did this trash come from?". According to my pea-size brain, the only reasoning that came out was "Hey mate! I am a student". Once inside the flight, I forgot all these woes. My flight was kingfisher and I love Vijay Mallaya, he knows how to keep his customers happy. The cool daddy -parliamentarian-liquor baron provide the best in-flight breakfast and soon I was dozing off.
We reached Jaigon,India around 6:00 in the evening and Phuntshoeling,Bhutan at 6.01.
I had few close Bhutanese friends in my college. One of them was posted in Phuntshoeling who had done arrangements for our lodging and the logistics. I was surprised to find that room rent in Bhutan is really cheap. We got a nice cozy twin accommodation for around 600 bucks - which is not at
My friend is a wonderful guy and we were really grateful to him for creating a itinerary for us. According to the plan, we get a road permit to Thimpu and then permit to Paro from Thimpu. The whole point of this trip is to visit Taktsang, one of the most sacred place in Bhutan and one of the most picturesque place in the world.
Next day morning, my friend arranged us a cab to get around Bhutan. Later, this was going to be pain. The driver turned out to be a friend of my friend. To make the matter worse, he was his childhood friend. More about this story later.
We reached Thimpu in the night. Another friend of
Memorial Chorten also known as Thimphu Chorten is monuement made in the memory of 3rd majesty of Bhutan. It is a Tibetian style stupa with a golden spire crowning it. One of the fascinating thing about Bhutanese is their openess and ability to trust each other. At 11 in the night, we entered the chorten and it was desserted but still open. In India, you can never see such site. And even if it was open, the site would have been vandalized beyond recognition.
I along with one of my friend(others were not sober :)) went in the morning to have extensive look at Chorten. The place had transformed. It was buzzing with activity. Many had come to offer their daily prayers. It was a nice feeling to go around the stupa in the morning, reminded me of the pradikshna that we used to do while at home. My friend entered the shrine and I followed him. I was stunned to see what was inside. All the incarnation of Buddha was depicted on a single sculpture. The most fascinating among all of them was that of ardha-pannani. Later, i came to know about the meaning of that representation. It meant the the unification of male and female by overcoming the duality. If seen, one would sit there and think over this unique representation of Buddha.
After a heavy breakfast we went to see the view of Thimphu from BTS towers which is like a lover's point. Though I guess the youth in Bhutan has many important things to do other than playing love games on the country side (I miss those days :)). So it was deserted. From there we went to see the national animal of Bhutan - Takin. Its one of the strangest animal. A cross between a mountain goat and Yak (I guess). Watching it was funny as it resembled one of our friend. So we changed the name Takin to Mr. X. If somebody had placed Mr. X and a Takin side by side, he would sure die of laughing at nature's naughtiness.
Day 4 - The valley of Van Gogh!
A day is always going to be good if it starts with
Day 5 - Beautiful valley of Paro
We roamed around streets of Paro to shop some exquiste Bhutanese antiques. But I must say they give very less importance to Indian tourists. And the reason being the lofty bargaining nature of our bloodline. So my MBA friends from the elite college of India conjectured this theorem - Charm the lonely shop lady. We scouted the entire area for shops which is not crowded, which is not dimly lighted, and shop owner being a lady. The tricky part is there will be a lot of shops where ladies handle the things but you need to catch one where lady trading is the owner! As an added icing to our cake, it was closing time for shops. We found our prey. The next process is charming and luckily one of my friend specialized in it. The first thing he picked up in that shop was a phallus! We didn't know what he was thinking. We started laughing and to get it worse, the lady got offended. Before she could react, he started scolding us. As per Buddhist tradition of Bhutan, a phallus is often regarded as divine symbol for fertility. Women who have issues to conceive are blessed with a phallus. Often you can see phallus dangling at door steps of Bhutanese homes. When my friend explained with supreme confidence, we were awed and our lady shopkeeper was smiling. She was trapped. Now he asked us to shop at our will. While we were doing this, he was talking to her, charming all the way in and how glibly he did it. And then he put nail on the coffin. Instead of discounting on the total, he started putting discount on individual pieces. Now what he did was putting extra discount on each pieces so as to reduce marginal profit. To make things more easier he put more discount so as to prolong the bargaining process. It was fun to see my friend asking articles for price and the lady refusing with smile. This went on for around 20-25 minutes and since it was closing time, he just increased his asking price by a small percent and she was ready to sell the whole stuff. We came out of that shop really happy!
The next day we went to the most beautiful and sacred place in Bhutan - Taktsang Monastery or Tiger nest monastery. According the local myth, whosever visit tatsang attains moksha. The pecularity of this monastery is that its perched high on a hill. From the valley below its a majestic sight to watch. And my entire trip was to take one photograph- just one photograph. So that I can strike one line of from Bucket list. Yes, I am crazy!
To reach Taktsang, one need to trek for 3 hrs. Its a winding but lesurable path to the monastery. In fact for a seasoned trekker it would hardly take 2 hours. Instead we took almost 3.5 hrs to reach there. Thanks to 4 DSLRs we were having. It was a competetion to get the perfect photo on the way to Taktsang. The last stretch of path is breathtaking, one needs to go along the cliff side to reach the monastry. At around 2300 ft above between two cliffs there is small bridge that connects them. Prayer flags of different colors decorated this bridge and all the way upto monastery. When you are here, its a different feeling and truth to be told, I don't have enough vocabularyto describe them.
Taktsang monastery contains a series of shrines. We went to each one of them to get the blessings. And then we were on our way back.
The next day, we went back to Phintshoeling. The day started with a fight over taxi fare for the last 6 days. Bhutan was supposed to be a cheap destination but we ended up paying around 17k as the taxi fare. But our exciting journey didn't stop there. We had to catch a train to Kolkatta and then a connecting flight to Hyderabad and Mumbai. After putting special use of our geography skills instead of going to NJP, went to a station which was around 50 Kms away from Jaigon so that we can catch the same train but few stations before. When we reached there, we came to know that Indian railways was true to its word - The train was late and late by around 8 hours. The minimal odd suggested if take the train, we are going to miss the flight from Kolkatta. So we scouted for a taxi and driver who could cover 730 Kms in 13 hours. Finally we found one - a true descendent of Michael Schumacher.
True to his words, we were flying across rural areas of West Bengal. Thrice I saw death in front of me. Even though we put up a descent 80 km/hr on average, we thought we might not make it. In the last 1 hour we had to cover almost 90 kms and cover we did. When I saw the airport's departure lounge, it was like having a second life.
To visit Bhutan was one of the best decision I have made. And I would cherish it for the rest of my life. Once I reached back campus, another surprise was waiting for me there - a tour de Scotland :)
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
i met you and now i'm sure
this never happened before"
Friday, June 24, 2011
I put my steps with caution, thinking over and over again.
To or not to.
I am not sure of what the answer would be. But I feel like devouring poison slowly, drop by drop. And the agonizing pain that I endure can suffer no longer. I make my mind.
To or not to.
Confused to core I am, and yet, there may be no tomorrow. Bitter memories of yesterday when I waited haunts me and tell me not to repeat those nightmares again.
I muster that last ounce of courage and walk ahead.
To meet her.
And I met her and told her what my aches my mind, no.. my heart.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Life is only complex as the way we see it. Yet, I embark on answering what boundaries of science is not sure of. They say it is a complex problem. Not answered until now. But am I the right one to pursue it ? Because I don't know even the simple things that I see everyday.
I don't know why the water I drink is transparent.
Why do the smile I give when I see my friend is different from the one when I pose for a photograph?
Why is an apple called an apple?
Why is sea water salty?
Why do I dream; what are they actually?
If everything is made of atoms why are there different shapes?
What gives the light so much speed that we cannot see them?
Why are there only 4 seasons?
Why do grazing animals always come back to barn, don't they yearn for their freedom?
Why do I close my eyes while sleeping?
Why do it rain in drops not as a stream?
Why do the clock have only 60 seconds in a minute?
Why do ants always go as a monorail?
Why do tears come when I cry?
I see these phenomenon in my daily life, yet I neglect them or ceased to notice them. These are seemingly simple things that happens in my mundane life. And I delve a little deep, I find how complex life is.
I am conveniently leaving them behind so that some things in my life remain simple and unanswered as the complexity deprives it of that naiveness.
And I call myself a researcher- what an irony!
Pic courtesy: me :)
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The snooze function on the alarm that allows to sleep 5 more minutes.
Chillness of the water droplets that trickles across the face while taking the morning bath.
The Calvin & Hobbs comic strip on the last page of the news paper.
The smell of the aromatic black tea during the breakfast.
Leaving the hands free while on the bike and gazing at the vast lake that passes by.
Smile on your buddy's face when you say "Good Morning".
Mails in your box which starts with a "Dear" and ends with a "Love".
The status message thats says "completed" at the end of the program execution.
Naughty jokes during the lunch and the 15 min power nap thereafter.
The last 1 minute to 5:00PM. And as an icing on the cake, it being a Friday.
Floodlights in the ground allowing to jog in the night than skipping the cozy morning sleep.
That 1 rupee reduction for the Pomegranate juice costing 16 bucks because of not finding change.
ATM door that opens with any card including the library card.
Guy who shares 1 TB of movies on the LAN asks for no "Thank Yous".
Creaking fan that sounds rhythmically to make it a sweet lullaby.
The sleep with dreams of tomorrow.
Monday, May 09, 2011
When I say this please believe me. I am sane and I am sober.
I have these déjà vu moments which are unusually large in number to be associated with an average human being. But my problem is not that I am having many of them rather I have stopped seeing what is going to happen nowadays. And thats strange.
Again iterating what I said before I am completely sane and sober.
What concerns me is not the fact that I am not able to forsee whats going to happen but the moment that the whole world conspires to set the instance of my life that I had for-seen coming true. Like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place, like a contrivance unfolding its secret, like a meandering river meeting the unseen ocean - an ecstasy of minute things working in tandem to create that destiny which you know would happen but didn't know how.
Life is now totally unpredictable which is nice as it is normal but I miss those exhilarating moments when something you saw already happens again.
I repeat for the last time, I am sober and sane.
Friday, April 29, 2011
In the darkest zone of your mind, there is this fear murmuring in the murkiest voice saying "What if". Sometimes grunting in between with a raucous sound making your heart beat more than 72 times per minute. And thats when you do your retrospection - "Did I make the right decision?". Like a demonic conscience pricking your heart for a self confession sort of, it further deepens the wound. You know nothing else can be done except to hope for the best. And thats what precisely what everybody else would say to you - "All is going to be fine". Bah! a voice echoes again from that darkest zone, reverberating across the same sanctum that you created while making the very decision you thought was a right decision but is being denounced now. Thinking that what you did all these years pondering and breaking your sweat and sleep over, sometimes, may never be appreciated by anybody except you.
But you live on as if you are deaf, doing the very same thing that you did yesterday as if that yesterday didn't exist at all. Hoping this nth time, there is a miracle.
And they say PhD is not a degree but a state of mind - well said whosoever that was.
Saturday, April 02, 2011
On that fateful day, 28 years before, tri-color flag fluttered high at Lords. I was then 0 years old! 28 years. Yes, a country of 1.2 billion had waited 28 years to celebrate the second anniversary of that great event.
If modern science count 4 years as a generation gap, then 7 generation have passed since that flag fluttered that high. Now I am 28, and yesterday I saw how it is to feel when that tri-color flag fluttered high again, at Wankade stadium, Bombay.
28 years. Average age of 2011 world cup winning Indian team. A team that posses a uncanny ability to fight back from the brinks of defeat. And fight to end till victory is theirs. Finally, we have a TEAM where there is not just one Sachin but many.

11 able men under the command of one, a leader is what made the history repeat after 28 years. A leader who is worthy to be called so in all sense. A calm and composed individual whose mind works like a jig-saw puzzle only to reveal the final picture when that winning run is scored. And yesterday he joined the ranks of those who were blessed to hold that great cup.
These men have united a nation of 1000 religions into one by just sweet loft of ball across the boundary line. A country which is day by day loosing its sheen to dirty politics of scams and shams wanted a moment to see their old self to believe again in themselves. And the men in blue have given them a fountain head which, perhaps, is a new beginning.
Pic courtesy: www.cricketnext.com
Sunday, March 13, 2011
അന്ന് മഴപെയ്യനുണ്ടായിരുന്നു.
പതിവ് തെറ്റാതെ അച്ഛന് കാറുമായി വഴിയില് എനയും കാതു നിന്നിരുന്നു.
നൂറില് പരം കുടകളുടെ ഇടയില് നിന്ന് എന്നെ കണ്ടു പിടിക്യാന് വളരെ ബുദ്ധിമുട്ടാണ് . മഴകാലത്ത് , തൃശൂര് തോമസ്സാറിന്റെ ക്ലാസ്സിന്റെ മുനില്ലേ സ്ഥിര ദിരശ്യം ആണ് ഞാന് പറയുനത്. അത് കൊണ്ട് തന്നെ ഞാന് കൂടുകരോടെ അതികം കുശലം പറയാതെ കാറിന്റെ അരികില് എത്തി.
“കുട്ടാ ഇത്ര പെട്ടന് കഴിഞ്ഞോ ?” അച്ഛന് സംശയം.
“അച്ഛന് ഇവിടെ വന്നിതു പത്തു മിനിടിഅല്ലേ ആയിടുല്ലു, ഞാന് ഒന്നര മണികൂര് മുമ്പ് ഇവിടെ എത്തി ” ഞാന് ചിരിച്ചു കൊണ്ട് പറഞ്ഞു.
“ഇന്നി എന്താ പരിപാടി , ഇന്ന് സംസരിക്കുനില്ലേ ?” ഒരു ചെറിയ കളിയാക്കലിന്റെ സ്വരം അതില് ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നു.
ഞാന് പതുക്കെ കാറിന്റെ ഡോര് അടച്ചു.
“ഇന്ന് വേണ്ട ...മൂടില്ല ” ഞാന് ഒഴിഞ്ഞു മാരന് ഓരോ കാരണങ്ങള് തപ്പി കൊണ്ട് ഇര്രിനു.
“ഇന്നിക്ക് അറിയാം നീ ഒന്നും മിണ്ടുള്ള എന്ന് , നീ നിന്റെ അമ്മേടെ മോന് തന്നെ ” അച്ഛന് വളരെ ഗൌരവത്തോടെ എന്നെ നോക്കി.
കുട്ടുകാരെ പിന്നിലാക്കി കാര് മുനോട്ടു നിങ്ങി
“അല്ല , ഞാന് സംസാരിക്കില എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞില്ല ലോ, പിന്നെ എന്താ പ്രശ്നം . ഇന്ന് വേണ്ട അത്ര മാത്രം.”
“നിന്റെ നാളെ ആവുമ്പോഴേക്കും അവളെ വല്ലേ ആണ് പിള്ളേര് കൊണ്ട് പോവും, എന്നിടു നീ ചാവകാട് കടപുറത്തു മാനസ മയില് പാടി നടക്കും ... അത് വേണ്ട , ഞാന് തന്നെ മുന് കൈയി എടുത്തോളാം.” അച്ഛന് എന്ടോ ഉറപ്പിച്ച മട്ടില് പറഞ്ഞു.
“അങ്ങനെ ഒന്നും അവള് പൂവുല്ല എന്റെ fathereeee ..” ഞാന് എന്നെ തന്നെ ആശ്വസിപിക്ക്യന് നോകി.
“നമ്മുക്ക് കാണാം ”
Horn അടിച്ചു പത്തു കാര് മുന്നോട്ടു നീങ്ങി . ഹോര്നിറെ ശബ്ദം കേട്ട് മുന്പേ പോക്കുന നാളത്തെ എഞ്ചിനീയര്ഉം ഡോക്ടരുമാരും വഴി അറികലേക്ക് ഒതുങ്ങി നടന്നു.
പച്ച ചുരിദാര് അവള്ക്ക് നന്നേ ചെരുമയിരരുനു. കുട മുഖം മൂടിയിരുനിങ്ങളും അവളെ എന്നിക്ക് നല്ലേ ദൂരത്തു നിന്നെ മനസിലായി . അച്ഛനും മനസിലായി.
അവളുടെ അരികള് എതിയപോള് വണ്ടി പതുക്കെ പോകാന് തുടങ്ങി .
“ഒരു ലിഫ്റ്റ് വേണോ എന്ന് നിനക്ക് ചോദിച്ചുടെ ?” അച്ഛന് വളരെ ലാഗവത്തോടെ എന്നോട് ചോദിച്ചു.
കേട്ടപാതി കേല്കാതെപാതി , ഞാന് ചില്ല് താഴ്ത്തി ചോദിച്ചു “ഞാന് ശകതന് വഴിക്ക്യാണ്, സ്റ്റാന്ഡില് വിടാം , മഴ കൂടകയെ ഉള്ളു എന്നാണ് അച്ഛന് പറയുന്നേ” ഞാന് വച്ചു അടിച്ചു.
അച്ഛന് കാറ് നിര്ത്തിയുടുണ്ടയിര്രുനു. ചിരിജുകൊണ്ട് എന്നോട് പുറകിലത്തെ ഡോര് തുറന്നു കൊട്ടുകാന് പറഞ്ഞു.
മഴ അന്ന് രക്ഷിച്ചു. അവള് കാറില് കയറി.
ഞാന് വിചാരിച്ചു ഇന്നി ഒരിക്കലും അവള് എന്നെ വിട്ടു പോവില്ല എന്ന്. അച്ഛനും.
പക്ഷെ ഞങ്ങള് രണ്ടു പേര്ക്കും തെറ്റി. വര്ഷങ്ങള്ക്ക് ശേഷം എന്ന് മാത്രം.
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Memories. Can they be washed away?
Like sands on the shore, cast away into the depths of sea. Never to return, or to return when least expected. But in the face of millions of such particles, can a single grain standout? Eclipsing all others that lie besides it.
Shades of black and brown interleaving and interluding and laying like one, yet can it be possible while the foot leaves an impression of your existence on them, that one grain of sand calls you. Echoing in the silence of cathedral that you created by blocking every other sweet nuisance of life. This violation of sanctum is what memories bring in. And precisely the thing that I like to cast away where nobody can find.
"As long as time flows forward, the future which we are so mesmerized by is nothing but an untouched past". I read these lines somewhere and I feel sorry that I don't remember. Remembering something that needs to be remembered is the greatest boon and bane of man. Fact that you need to forget to move forward makes you wonder because you are forced to remember that you need to forget it. That is the boon but fact that you need to remember makes it all the more difficult to forget. That is the bane. A perfect example of Godel's strange loop.
Life moves in circles. No beginnings and no ends. Once forgotten will always come back and soon will be forgotten again. Steps of many, motioned in unison, to a unknown symphony guiding just to path ahead. Only to remind, that, you passed through the same years before.
Memories. Can they be washed away ?
A note: The song included was the inspiration behind this post. In my arrogant attempt to learn a language every six months, I came across this beautiful song in a movie called Gitanjali. Superb rendition by SPB and melodious Hamsanadam raaga by Tyagaraja forced me to vent out my hazy emotions. Pardon me (to all those who read it) :P
Saturday, November 27, 2010
The stage is the epic war of Kurushethra between Kauravas and Pandavas.
For the last 13 days, many battles were won by both sides, but the verdict of the mother-of-all-wars was still unpredictable. The victory swayed into both side like light feather.
Duryodhana had become concerned as what that was left was of the 11 cavalries that came from northern plains of Ganges, only few Aryan kings were left to wage the remaining war. After the great Bhishma was slayed by Dhanajaya, Drona was in command of Kaurava fleet. Duryodhana kn
On the 13th day, Drona, ordered kaurava fleet form Chakravyuh, the lotus formation. The peculiarity of this formation is that only few men knew how to enter and successfully suppress this formation. It was a offensive formation which provided with a natural defense: If you need to attack it, you need to enter it and there is only on entry point. Moreover, the lotus rotates making only few men able to enter it behind the main attacker. For the rest of the army the entry point would have got closed even before they could realize it.
I know how to enter it. But I don't know how to come out of it.
Abhimanyu, son of Arjuna and Shubdra, who was only 16 when Dharmraja asked him to enter the chakravyuh to stop Drona's carnage. A staunch follower of Kshatriya dharma, Abhimanyu had to enter, irrespective of knowing that he wouldn't come out of it alive. It was a brave and necessary act.
I just don't want to be the Abhimanyu.
But.
Abhimanyu attained moksha only because he didn't know how to exit the chakravyuh. Krishna deliberately didn't reveal the way to successful foil chakravyuh when he was telling shubdra about various tactical moves practiced in the battle field. He knew that Abhimanyu's soul belonged to a yaksha and this was the reason he didn't knowingly complete his recital about the conquering chakravyuh to shubdra.
I want to be free but does that mean that I would be required to take the attire of Abhimanyu.
But I guess, I need to fight.
Monday, November 08, 2010
നിന് സ്നേഹമൊരു സഹയാത്രിയുടേതോ അതോ ഒരു സഹപാഠിയുടേതോ
അറിയില്ല എനിക്ക് നാള് ഇതുവരെ
അറിയുവാന് ഉള്ള മോഹവും വൃഥായെന്ന് എനിക്ക് അറിയുമെങ്കിലും
ഒരു ദശകമായ് നിന് പുഞ്ചിരിമാത്രം എന് മനസ്സിലേന്തി
നാള് ഇതുവരേയും യാമങ്ങള് തള്ളിനീക്കി
പറഞ്ഞതോ ഓര്മയില്ല കേള്ക്കുവാനോ പറഞ്ഞതുമില്ല
ഇനിഒരുനാള് കാണുവാന് മാത്രം മോഹം
മോഹമാം മോഹമായി, മിന്നിമായുന്ന ഓര്മകളുമായി
യാമങ്ങള് ഇനിയും ഞാന് സഞ്ചരിച്ചിരിക്കും
നിന് ഉത്തരം സഹയാത്രിയുടേതോ അതോ ഒരു സഹപാഠിയുടേതോ
എന്നുമാ ചോദ്യമായി എന് മനസ്സത്രയും
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Delhi, I hate this city. It has always cheated me.
And this time too, it held to its devious past.
Treachery 1 : Took me all the way to Gurgoan's Rajeev Chowk instead of Connaught place Rajiv Chowk from airport that too at wee hours.
Treachery 2: Sold overpriced ticket from Delhi-Manali in the worst ever bus that I got into of my life.
But thats fine, I expected more from this city. I was happy that it got over with just those incidents.
Delhi to Manali is a 17hrs trip. The mercury was at its peak. The whole of Northern India was burning and because of my friends insistence, we were trapped in a 1960 Leyland transport. The only respite was the Sikh conductor who entertained us with stories about cities that we passed on the way.
It was around 12 in the midnight when we reached Manali. It was freezing out there. Without looking out for finer details we settled ourselves at a shady Hotel. The most entertaining fact that I noticed over there was just one thing - There was no fan and there was no mosquitoes
Our next day started with drizzle. We saw how much commercialized Manali was. As we hadn't equipped ourself with the proper winter clothes, we started our hunt for them. After lingering around in local stores for 2-3 hrs, we retraced our way back to a place called Bhunter. Bhunter is a small town before Kullu. Kasol, the base camp, is around 2 hrs from Bhunter.
Road to Kasol is one of the best scenic roads you could ever see in your life. You meanders through the sides of river Parbati and its a real joy to watch the river dancing below, following you like teasing you all the way. At that moment itself we decided to go for rafting across it.
Kasol is a small village on the banks of Parbati. The mainstay of the economy may be , I guess, foreigners and YHAI trekkers :P. One of the surprising fact that caught my eyes over here is the sign boards in Hebrew. Yes, its an Israeli getaway place. There is throng of them here and may be with foot not on the ground but with sense of immortal elation. Yes, kasol is also the mecca of “you know what”. All vagabonds would like Kasol, its just paradise on earth and cheaper paradise too.
The camp was on the banks of Parbati. There were separate tents for men and women. There were around 15 out of them. And like a luxury, there was a separate tent for the Camp Leader. was 60+ fellow who had climbed Mt Everest. The first day went fine. Everyday there was a camp fire organized by people from the previous batch. The people somehow shed their shyness in cold and misty air to show their cultural prowess. One particular aspect of life that I had forgotten when I left my school days was reminded to me when lights were put off at sharp 10. The camp was maintained under a strict military discipline. We also were convinced regarding the utilities of each and everything mentioned in the itinerary list. We had forgot to bring the torch and we were groping in the darkness to get place to bunk.
A typical day at camp starts at 5 in the morning. Oh god, I had forgotten when I had last seen 5 in the morning. And soon after a cup of coffee, we were off for morning exercise. I hated this part. By the time it was over, everybody had their body warmed up and lost a few unwanted pounds :). But soon it was made up for by a fantastic breakfast thereafter.
On the second day, an acclimatization trip was conducted. During this time, we were taken to a small hill near by the camp. It was around 1500 ft higher than the camp site. The hill was covered with pine trees and other flora which I tried to decipher from my old botanical days. But senility had spread my hairs grey, everything were stuck at the tip of my tongue. This was the time when we got acquainted with our tour mates. The crowd was a uniform mix. Some kids, some professionals, some oldies and some who apparently were old but forgot to grow old. Then and there I got the vibe of the forthcoming days.
That night, it was our turn to orchestrate the camp fire. I don't know how the other fellows managed to give an awesome performance. The camp leader was impressed to exalting heights. The day after we were finally going off to see the snow peaks that we could see now in the horizon.
To be continued.
