Varanasi Part II

So, I left off at the point where we had just arrived at the station close to midnight. By the time we reached our wait-listed tickets had been cancelled. At this point of time one of my aunts and I really wanted to board the train, as otherwise the jobs of 3 people and the business of another 2 would suffer. As for me, I just wanted to be back by Monday evening. But I also backed down when I realised that there was a slim chance of us getting tickets and I was equally happy to hire a cab in the morning. But maasi still went to talk to some official at the station who gave us tickets in a compartment and told us we'd get seats 2 hours later. Oh well! Somehow through the bickering and sullen faces(mostly by my cousin) all of us decided to wait for the train. There were still a few minutes till all hell was to break loose. And then the train arrived. One look at the compartment and there was a united claim of "I'm not getting into that, no matter what". Amidst talks of acting foolish we exited the station, only to wait for our cab for another half an hour. When we finally got back past 2 am, all we wanted was to eat and sleep.
We had my kind of plans for the next day. Sight-seeing, walking around the city kind of stuff. At the same time my excitement was dulled when I heard we'd board a train from Lucknow the next day, thus making it impossible for me to reach back by the time I wanted to. I got mad because it seemed shopping had become more important than anything I wanted to do. And since I lack the self-control to hide my anger, everyone knew I was pissed.
Our day started off with a visit to Sarnath, a place of religious importance for Jains and Buddhists located a little over 12 kilometers from the city. The first place we visited was a temple that was built by and is currently managed by Tibetan monks. This was followed by a visit to the Mulagandhakuti Buddhist shrine and the Chaukhandi Stupa. With the evening came plans of witnessing the famous aarti that takes place everyday at the Dashaswamedh Ghat. We reached with enough time to spare for a boat trip to most of the other ghats. Well-lit, dark, bustling, deserted-there are all sorts of the ghats along the banks of river Ganga. Our boatman was a friendly fellow who kept telling us small history tidbits. While I would have hated to miss out on it, I can't honestly say that the religious ritual which attracts hundreds to the river bank everyday was my favourite part of the trip. We called it a day pretty early as we had to take a cab to Lucknow the next morning.
When our sullen cab driver arrived almost an hour late in the morning he turned up without a luggage carrier. This meant that the 5 hour journey wasn't going to be very comfortable. We had no choice then except to make do with what we had. The journey was slow, time wasn't on our side and neither was our sleepy driver. By the time we got to Lucknow we would have reached the train station half an hour before schedule, which to me made a lot more sense than visiting that one very important shop that my aunts had visited some time back. But not to one person in our group. And somehow we braved the city's traffic, visited the shop and would have made it to the platform 10 minutes before the train had to depart. But things never happen that easily, do they? 
A newly built part of the Lucknow station has 6 platforms a little way away from the main station. We were blissfully unaware of this fact. So while I was running towards the platforms I saw my mum rushing towards me to inform us that we were at the wrong station. At this point we had about 7 minutes to board the train. My cousin found a coolie who found a hand-cart to load our luggage. It was a situation of complete pandemonium. Bollywood comedy movie kind of pandemonium. She was rushing behind the coolie. Her mom was running behind them. My mum and two aunts were driven in the cab to the other station. I ran past them all after receiving instructions to pull the chain, if I board the train. Yes, we knew it's a crime. No, we didn't care. I couldn't see our train for a few moments and I thought we'd missed it. Then I saw it was at the last platform. It seemed like we might just make it. I ran like never before, thankfully found the ticket checker and started blabbering about how my mum is at the other end of the platform and she has a knee problem(both of which were true) so could he please make sure that the train would leave just a minute late? He seemed unsure so I got into the train looking to pull the chain. And then I realised there wasn't one. I ran out to find the others, went past my maasi who was bewildered by seeing me run in the opposite direction and then I ran back with mum. All of us entered different compartments and just as all our luggage was dragged on and the coolie jumped off(God bless that man) the train began moving.
Finally we settled down and by the time we deboarded at the New Delhi station we knew one thing. Despite the ups and downs there wasn't a single incident that we would want to change about our trip. Except maybe the next time I visit the city, I might not have the guts to go saree-shopping.

VARANASI Part I

VARANASI. That has got to be the most insane trip I've ever been on.  I've been on quite a few vacations with friends and family but this was nowhere close to being what I expected it to be.

Now I knew from the time we had planned this, that I might not be able to accomplish all that I would like to on the trip. The reason for this was that out of the 6 women who were going(my mum, three aunts, a cousin and myself), 4 were going for the sole purpose of shopping, 1 was equally inclined to shop and get some sightseeing done and 1 wanted to just explore the city without entering any shop that sells sarees. The one divided between the two activities was my mum and the last one happened to be me. Add to this the fact that the only other person in my age group LOVES shopping and that we've never been super close. We don't hate each other; we've just never interacted much.

So, we were scheduled to leave on the evening of 11th December, the day of my last exam for the semester. I wasn't particularly happy about this because like most people I wanted to go out with friends post the exam. What made me even more unhappy was the fact that I would have to miss a dance class. If you're one of the very few people who know about and read this blog, you know me well enough to know how much I hate having to miss a dance class. But I made my peace with both these things. But as soon as I got out of college, I got to know that our train got delayed and was scheduled to leave 10:30 p.m. Because of certain 'logistical' issues, I still couldn't attend class but I managed to meet a friend for a steaks lunch. And then there was another delay. Our train was scheduled to leave around 4:30 a.m. With barely 2 hours of sleep we were halfway to the station when we got a message that the train would now leave at 7:30 a.m.! This game was no longer any fun. But finally we left for Varanasi at 7:35, after an 11 hour delay.

The talk during the journey mostly revolved around the details of an upcoming wedding in the family(hence the shopping trip). But for me it was about catching up on some much-needed post-exams sleep. What struck me most when we arrived in the city around 11 p.m was the bustling road. It could have been 6 in the evening for all anyone knew. This was pretty much it for the first day. Well this and a really bad car ride from the station.

Our day began quite early on Saturday. My aunts had done their research and zeroed in on a few shops. We landed up in the first one before most shops had even opened. And then it started. The looking through innumerable piles of sarees and picking only a select few. This could have been bearable had I not been expected to drape sarees to help in the selection process. A couple of hours later the owners, who are relatives of a friend of my cousin's, told us that they'll get some more stock for us in a few hours. Truth be told, I think they just needed a break. But did we? Absolutely not. That is, except for me. Then onto another place. I can't call this one a shop. It was more of a cross between an office and a maze. Spread over 3 floors it had 7-8 glass-panelled rooms on every floor, each stocked with something different. There were secret rooms and corridors and too many racks lining the corridors. And a reception. This one was followed by a quaint little shop which isn't very easy to spot. By this time I was mentally too tired to even be annoyed by all the shopping. It was 7 p.m and we were right back to the first shop to pick up our stuff. Before this day I never fully understood the depth of the dialogue from Dilwale Dulhaniye Le Jayenge "Haath thaka diya tabse sariyan dikha dikha ke". And then the high point of my day. We were served 3 different types of chaat that one finds only in Banaras. Aah! That is all a hungry, tired, bored, street food lover needed.

Finally the shopping ended and we had to rush back for dinner before catching our train. Miraculously we had some time to spare so we decided to visit the most famous temple in the City of Temples. The approach could really use some work. It's a winding alley that is poorly lit, wet and full of dirt and muck. But once you get to the temple it's a different story. I'm increasingly becoming an agnostic so my reason for being there wasn't completely religious. I love monuments and architecture. And this temple seemed to radiate the very idea of Kashi as we think of it. The city that's been around forever and has it's own niche somewhere between the fast evolving metropolitan cities and the still rustic towns. The covered courtyard, cold stone paths and multiple idols in the Kashi Vishwanath temple all seem to radiate a certain strength that is only built over time. We happened to be there in time for the last pooja of the day, which was absolutely worth attending. A large group of people chanting at their loudest would stop to periodically ring all the bells in the temple continuously. And there were way too many bells to even estimate. That 15-20 minutes long ritual was unbelievably invigorating.

Post this, we reached the station around 11:30 pm. Now this is where the craziness began because as it turned out, we didn't have confirmed tickets. There was still a way to board the train, there were other ways to get back home and there was a group of ladies with divided opinions. We knew we were in a mess. What we didn't know was that there were going to be fights, tantrums, screaming matches, a lot of rushing around, loads of laughter and an unexpected stopover. All of that in part 2 of this crazy extended weekend! 

GOA DIARIES

This happens to have become one of my favourite photographs recently. Not because of great photography(I'm not even sure how good it actually is) but because every time I look at it I smile. It takes me back to a beautiful morning spent at a beach in Goa, watching the slightly chilly night lighten to dawn and finally to a beautiful sunrise. It reminds me of having tea at 6:30 a.m and running into the water, trying to save a slipper from floating far, far away. Just thinking about it makes me want to be there all over again.

Sometime in the second week of March, a day after my birthday I left for Goa along with 2 friends of mine. Seems like a small group but after a crazy number of changes in the plan and the people going, we weren't in a mood to cancel. Apparently, there were also going to be other people i knew on the trip, but that's something I got to know about half an hour before boarding the train. It was an interesting journey and a great trip, where I ended up running into quite a few people.

But this post isn't about all the experiences I had there, but rather about everything I learnt in that one week. So here, in no particular order, are some things that sleepless nights, lazy days and memorable train journeys taught me:

1. Accommodation is the least of your problems: It's something that you learn when your trip organiser can't exactly be described as efficient and you start looking for alternatives so that time isn't wasted being stranded in a hotel lobby. It's the easiest thing to book a decent and inexpensive place, specially in a tourist hub like Goa.

2. Be willing to meet new people-it's a lot of fun: A Deutsche couple who had been to Goa 6 times before, a couple of guys from Mumbai, a guy from Dubai(I think) who spent his college years in Hyderabad and a friendly waiter at a shack who thinks girls from Delhi eat too much and readily gave us his insight into cultural differences are some of the people I remember meeting in the 4 days that we spent in Goa. It's not even about learning what different cultures are about; it's just the experience of talking to someone you've never met before and making a pleasant memory out of it.

3. A little planning is okay but don't go overboard: So you didn't cover that one tourist spot you wanted to go to or you didn't try a particular dish. Big deal! It's good to go to a place with some knowledge and to have a to-do list, but don't go crazy trying to accomplish everything on it because more often than not you'll like a place more than you thought you would and you'll spend too much time there or there will be a difference of opinion or you might get to know of some other place which is worth a visit. It's worth the effort to try and do everything you want to but to rush and not enjoy anything is a spoiler.

4. Food is important: Train meals-not the best. So when this realisation dawned upon us we were pretty grateful to all our mothers for having forcibly packed food for us. Delicious breakfast, lunch, dinner-check!

5. Company is even more important: I'm all for solo trips, but when you're out in a group the company has to good. It has the power to create great moments and make the simplest moments memorable. Bad company equals irritability, moodiness, raised tempers and wasted money. I wouldn't be writing this post had my friends not made this a trip to remember.

6. A hint of safety is necessary even in adventure: First night there we had no clue that transport isn't a strong point of the state. As a result when we finally decided to head back to our resort our only initial option was walking. Thankfully we got a cab eventually. But it taught us to make arrangements for travelling to and from places, because no matter where you are, drunk, shady people aren't the company you want.

7. It doesn't take much to have fun: One of the best memories for me on the trip was when we were sitting on a part of a wall at Fort Aguada overlooking some wilderness on the hill and an unending expanse of the Arabian Sea. It might have been a hot afternoon but chilled drinks, moderately warm pizza, phone cameras and a slight breeze were all it took to drive away the heat from our minds.

8. Earphones: When you get tired of making fun of a compartment full of girls ruining every song they shout, sorry, sing earphones become magical devices that remind you that there is still melody in this world.

9. Do stuff you can't tell everyone about: This is probably the most fun part of a trip. When you really want to talk about an experience but you have to stop yourself, there's a really good chance that it was tons of fun. Well either that or really embarrassing. Or both.

10. Travel is a necessity: In one line-new place, new experiences. And if it's not a new place for you, there is still scope for new experiences. And if not that, it'll give you content for a blog post :P

On that note, all I want to say is that I want to travel more often because I want a lot more of such pictures that really do say a thousand words.  

The Metro Isn't All That Bad After-all

Spending 3  hours a day, 5 days a week commuting in the metro surely has its cons. The technical snags, overcrowded coaches, unwanted looks and comments and people fighting over a seat do not figure in my to-experience list. But I've grown to really like the metro journeys, mostly. 

Firstly it's perfect for catching up on some lost reading time if you're travelling alone. If not then it gives you time for that one serious, long conversation or many light short ones. The only place that beats the metro for the long conversations is a relatively uncrowded metro station. Eat and chat.

If you manage to actually get a seat, specially a corner one it's perfect for a siesta. Also it means that you're either really swift or really lucky. When I'm rushing from college to a dance class this is where I get a break.

Observe people. When you're bored just look around. You'll find one person reading 50 Shades of Grey and another one reading Chowringee(which by the way is a really good book) and you can't help but judge them. Then there'll be that one guy busy acting like a rock star who doesn't realise that the music is blaring from his phone, so people know that he's listening to Honey Singh and not Metallica.

Also, I think it's a great chance to know what's happening in the city. There will be enough people talking loudly about an upcoming event or a great new food joint. You'll hear about everything from a DU fest star night to a crazy sale. On the downside you'll also have to brave people talking about pointless things and whining, a lot!

Now 2 of my favorites: meeting new people and running into old friends. I love running into acquaintances and friends. Talk  for 10 minutes, catch up on the highlights of what's going on with the other person and that's about it. The funny thing is it almost always ends with "let's meet up sometime soon" and rarely does that happen.

And now for the last one on this list. Sometimes you meet people in the metro, find some common ground and interact with them. You don't know them, you may never see them again but that one metro journey becomes memorable.

Once when I was going home after watching a play, someone else who was also there recognised me and we started talking about the play. This person was a part of the National School of Drama team and had been closely associated with the production of that play. It was a short but interesting conversation.

This one time on my way to college the girl sitting next to me and I were both reading the same book, Inferno by Dan Brown. When we realised this we starting discussing the book and it's author. My usually long journey to Rajiv Chowk seemed to last for quite a short while that day.

Another time on my way back home, a really interesting guy came and sat next to me. You could hear somewhat faintly, good music playing from the huge headphones that rested on his curly black hair. Thankfully he could pull of the goatee he had decided to sport and he carried a guitar case in one hand and a sketchbook in the other. He started working on an incomplete monochrome sketch in red. I personally hate it when people stare at the book I'm reading but this time I couldn't take my eyes off that sketchbook. He noticed and I let him know that usually I wouldn't stare like that. We got talking for about 10-15 mins, during which time I got to know that he was working on a poster about city life. We talked about his art and music, my dance and not very successful attempt at learning how to play the guitar. He asked me to be careful while travelling late and I de-boarded.

I'm not saying that the metro is a magical place. Honestly, there are days when i absolutely hate it. But if you look beyond the technical snags, overcrowded coaches, unwanted looks and comments and people fighting over a seat, it isn't all that bad after-all.

It's What You Do In Those 2 Minutes

The smoke from the smoke machine hits your face and goes right in through your nostrils. The blue lights are roving all around you as if trying to spot an escaping criminal. Looking at your feet while crouching you become aware of the 20 other people standing around you in a cluster and a over a couple of hundred looking on. Anticipation, nervousness and excitement mingle in the air around your head. You hear faint music which starts to grow louder and mentally you counting up to the moment. 5..6..7..8..and then

It explodes right out of you ! It's not even been 10 seconds since the smoke hit you and you became aware of the lights and the people around you but it feels like forever. Suddenly you find yourself doing a routine you've worked hard at for over a month and a half. You realise that for the next 2 minutes you own the stage and in that moment the blaring music is all that matters. And this is exactly how i felt while performing on Sunday.

It wasn't all easy. I'd practised really hard for this with people whom I've come to regard as really good friends. There were moments of ecstasy when we had been praised, those when we felt down in the dumps because we JUST COULDN'T get that one step! 

But we were a confident chattering lot when we met for the dress rehearsal on Saturday because not only did we have a great last class, we had all also run into friends at the venue. But that was till we went on stage. And when we were done with what we thought was the final rehearsal prior to the show we were shocked, because for some reason that we couldn't identify, we were terrible. We were so bad that for the first 15 minutes after the act our choreographer/instructor didn't come to us because we had embarrassed her and she didn't want to be associated with us. And when she told us this it hurt, so bad. She told us that we had to go and rehearse as a team.

So 2 and a half hours after leaving the stadium we all met up at our studio for an unofficial practise. And it was a good rehearsal. All of us wanted to be brilliant on stage, not just for ourselves, but also for our instructor. And the next day we realised it was totally worth it.

We were nervous and confident at the same time. But we had worked hard ! We had a unique track and probably the prettiest costume :P When we came off stage everyone congratulated us but we were all waiting to hear from our choreographer. And she was overjoyed when we finally met her! Apparently we were one of the best batches on stage. Felt like in a span of 2 days we had gone from being really good to being underdogs and being (if i may say so myself) brilliant again.

It was a good journey, these one and a half months. But it all comes down to those 2 minutes and what you do then, when your adrenaline is pumping. And this is what we did

The Thrill Lies In The....?

I have an exam in less than 9 hours. Have I studied ? No. Do I want to study ? You think ?! Am I going to study right now ? Definitely NOT. So instead I decided to post this.

A couple of days ago I came across this question on a subjective form “Does the thrill lie in the catch or the chase?”  Being a White Collar fan my first reaction was chase. What can be cooler than chasing convicted art thief/con-man/loads of other stuff? Actually I’ll let that be for another time.  But then I got thinking and frankly I couldn’t clearly pick one so here’s what I feel for both the sides.

The chase is the fun part for sure. We’ve all heard about enjoying the journey instead of rushing to the destination blah blah blah. But why is that? That’s because you are continuously anticipating what’s going to come next. There is a lurking suspicion just waiting to turn into an adrenaline rush. And what’s the thrill of a catch if there is no chase. It’s just another monotonous activity that you pursue with disinterest. And suddenly there’s the chase that gives you a real reason to go after the catch.

Then there is the catch itself. The chase is fun and interesting. Agreed. But it exists only to reach to the catch. The means is useless if there is no end. Also there can be nothing more frustrating than a wild goose chase. So certain people believe that as long you reach the goal the monotony is bearable. And I understand this thought process because sometimes all you want is the final result.

After note :

Having written this down in black and white (figuratively of course. Literally it’s still black..duh ! ) I realize that similar to what I felt earlier, I’m still tilting towards the chase. I need something to look forward to and though the catch always fills that position, there is nothing like a good old chase. Look at James Bond. Who would call him suave and classy if he just walked up and put the handcuffs on Le Chiffre ? I’ll tell you who. NO ONE. Or even better. Tom and Jerry. There is never a catch, only a chase. But you still enjoy it even though you rarely watch it. And it has been one of the best cartoon show of all times.

I think I’ve pretty much decided. Back to rooting for the chase.

History Does Repeat Itself

The recent case of brutal rape of a 23 year old girl in Delhi has led to reactions pouring in from all parts of the country and from people in all walks of life. This post is not about the disgraceful behaviour on the part of the legislature, executive and judiciary in the past or even today, though A LOT can be said about that.
As a person who observed the turmoil both on ground during the protests and on the television screen watching debate after debate, listening to various view points being presented, I made an observation.
I believe that all the people who talk about/act upon such issues or any issue for that matter can be demarcated into 3 categories. And these categories bear an uncanny resemblance to the people who lived in our country during the fight for independence. Listening to various personalities on panel discussions took me back to my class VIII history lessons on modern Indian history. You'll soon understand why. Now for the categories:

The Protestors: They seem to be the 21st century's version of Indian National Congress extremists. They are the ones who have had enough and have waited for long in vain for those in power to take steps for their welfare. Finally when they see no other alternative they take the situation in their own hands. Upon provocation they'll retort through violence ( Dec 23rd incident at India Gate)  but they are also mature enough to protest without any weapon in their hands except for candles to show sympathy towards the victim (Dec 29th-Jantar Mantar). They will also throw out the people they don't want without a sparing a second thought towards them( Delhi CM being sent back from Jantar Mantar).

The Political Class: An exact replica of the regresssive British authorities of the 1911-1948 period to the very molecular level, except that in those days their was no option of playing blame games and passing the buck across party lines. Then the loyalties lay with the king, today they lie with the respective party leaders. Addressing only vote banks, criticising members of other political parties, suspending public services at their own whims and fancies and most of all insensitivity towards the comman man and a lackadaisical approach towards reformation is what definies the core ideologies of our political class. When the citizens want to be heard they are out of sight, when people don't want to see them they appear and then only to gain political mileage.

And now for the most interesting and agonising lot of them all :

The Gutless : This group is made up of people who want to please both the sides, the ones who are either too afraid to take sides or the ones who probably got stuck in a time portal when the acceptable turned into the unaccepted and the prevalent metamorphed into the orthodox old-world order. They feel that women are justified in demanding a life of dignity but also support the politicians who have the audacity to say that women should be married off early so as to prevent rapes. It cannot possibly appeal to any person's logic that these two schools of thought are supported at the same time. This lot resembles the Indian National Congress moderates who tried to maintain peace because they were either easily satiated or too scared to raise their voices, the former being more likely.

It is not just in this instance. Whenever a mass movement takes place these divisions exist in the society. People continue to have different perspectives. That is not the problem. The problem is that in the fight to prove who has a more logical ideology, the main issue gets diluted and lost somewhere.