For miles just sand. Camels and goats feeding on the sparse grass around. The sound of silence can be heard… not even a leaf moves. Just some bare and rough shrubs around.
Then there are the huge dunes, hovering at the horizon, threatening to swallow everything… like guardians of the mystifying desert. They are like slow moving waves which come cascading down when the wind picks up.
Away from the maddening crowd, noise and millions of electric lights, in the midst of nature, under the sun, moon, millions of stars and the open sky, just sitting, lost in a world of dreams and not even the rustle of a leaf… the silence is deafening and soon descends over everything. The sound is so satisfying, yet there is an emptiness. A lonely feeling comes over you as you realize, you are all alone… you would do anything for company.
Then you begin to seek solace in trees and animals. You realize how much you have missed. Their colours have never been so beautiful, their demeanor, never so graceful and their presence, never so important. Then slowly you begin to reflect on your own thoughts and feelings. Altogether, they are as wide as the desert itself. Suddenly, loneliness doesn’t matter anymore and you want to stay away from the place you left. You are no longer lonely. Your two best friends are with you– nature and yourself. You can play in the lap of nature… in its unending deserts and its life saving oases.
And then, when you do have to return to civilization, you will miss your new friends and know that you will get lost in the crowd. The same kind of lonely feeling settles over you as it did the day you left civilization!
You can be lonely in a crowd, yet in good company alone!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Magical Mountains
A full moon hovered just above the peaks, the moonlight romancing the white snow amidst twinkling applause from the stars.
As a ten year old, I had seen a picture of Mount Everest on the cover of a magazine. It was amazingly beautiful and kindled in me a desire to go there someday. The towering presence of the mountains, softened by the white snow, made them seem fragile. The rays of the golden sun, bouncing off the carpet of glaciers, lending an aura around the entire mountain, beat any painting I’d ever seen. The Himalayas mesmerized me even before I had ever seen them standing right before me.
The experience of trekking in the Himalayas begins from the moment you begin preparations to get there. Each time you run on a treadmill, panting and sweating, you are aware of how much your body needs to be able to take once you are in the mountains. Each piece of equipment makes you aware of the risks you will be taking. All this just heightens the sense of excitement.
The trek began after close to 50 hours of travel by train and bus, from Mumbai. Each of those fifty hours was spent in getting to know the others who would be trekking with me. It was definitely a group of amateurs, with experienced guides to make sure we get the most of the experience, with the least of complications.
Dead beat from the travel, many chose to sleep in the bus as we made way to base camp. But while trying to catch up on missed sleep, they missed catching the first view of the snow clad peaks. A turn in the road suddenly revealed to us the guardians of the North. That view was truly breathtaking! Most of us forgot to breathe.
That was when a strange thought came to my mind. You can never conquer the mountains, you can manage to get to the top only if they permit you to, because they have the power to wipe out your existence without any effort. It was a moment which actually reminded me of my place in the world.
With great respect mingled with my excitement, I settled into my tent at base camp. As Nature showered us with welcoming rain, and temperatures began to drop, I turned in thinking about just how the past day had changed something in me. I was looking forward to growing up in the lap of Nature over the next ten days.
Morning came with a flash- literally. I was among those who were late risers. We woke up at 6am. Since all the others were up, they wanted to get a picture of the ‘sleeping beauties’ and so they decided to wake us up with a yell and then click us as we sleepily looked back. The picture still brings a smile to my face.
All packed and ready, we went for a short three hour trek to the village of Trijuginarayan. This village is said to have been the place where Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati were married. There is a ‘havan kund’ where the sacred fire around which they had taken their vows is still burning. The priests have kept it alive over the centuries.
It was fun, as we got to know one another, and at the same time, much needed for our bodies to acclimatize to the altitude. At the end of the climb, we had an exercise of trust. All of us stood in pairs at an arms distance, closed our eyes and fell behind on our partners without bending our knees, completely trusting the other person to hold you. Initially, a lot of people could not fall back because it is not easy to completely let go and fall on someone, but we continued the exercise till each one of us were able to trust our partners completely. On a mountain that is so unpredictable, trust is very important and often the only thing that will save you.
After a brief session of breathing exercises and meditation, a subdued and tired group headed back to base camp. Evening brought with it a cool quiet breeze and conversations. Form first experiences of the past few days, to our veteran guides many stories, everyone was in good spirits.
After a quick dinner and an incident with a leech and a toe, a group of us headed for a walk in the moonlight. As fifteen pairs of tired feet started walking with torches in their hands, each trying to keep the other going, none of them knew the magical impression the Himalayas would have on them. Just like a bend in the road sprung upon us the beautiful snow clad peaks, another bend in the road revealed to us the treasure of the Himalayas that one can see only if one has been there.
A full moon hovered just above the peaks, the moonlight romancing the white snow amidst twinkling applause from the stars. It was an unforgettable sight. One that I don’t think any of us would ever want to forget.
As I watched the beauty before me, capturing it forever in my memories, some people tried to capture it on film. For me, it was impossible to capture such beauty on film. All those who tried, did so n vain because none of them got the picture when they printed the negatives; though the camera clicked, whirred and acknowledged the capturing of the picture, each one of them had another picture clicked over it and no signs whatsoever of the moonlight night. Sometimes, it is impossible to steal from Nature’s treasure box.
Next morning, we trekked up to Maggu, a village tucked away in the folds of Nature’s beautiful robe. We set up camp a little before the village and a few of us decided to clean ourselves up with a relaxing bath. The shock of the icy water on your skin can actually make you completely numb. The water was gently flowing but harshly cold. I learnt the hard way why it is important to be a bear with a thick coat of fur to jump in and swim in such waters. But it was an experience nonetheless.
As we trekked deeper into the mountains, away from the village of Maggu, we saw the landscape change from green grass and open fields to a forest of thick tall trees and finally to a white blanket of snow. Walking across sheets of snow that have covered the mountain slopes was quite tricky. The snow is soft and powdery and if you place your foot wrong, you can go slipping down a 300 foot slide with no way that you can stop yourself.
Crossing close to six such patches of snow covered slopes, we reached a ridge to go to a place called Panvali Kanta. We were supposed to make camp there, but a snow storm a couple of days ago had made the ridge very unsafe to cross. Just as we were turning around to go back, our Sherpa guide spotted leopard prints, around ten feet from where we were standing. All our disappointment was forgotten in the excitement that followed. The Sherpa identified the prints as belonging to a young male leopard.
Finally, as we headed back to camp, clouds that had been gathering all day long, decided to make their presence more strongly felt. We were caught in the middle of a shower of large, hard-hitting hailstones. The unpredictability of the mountains teaches you a lot many lessons. It just throws things at you (sometimes literally) and you have to deal with them.
Back at the village of Trijuginarayan, we had an evening to spare before our final descent and journey back to the bustle of city life. That evening, we decided to interact with the few inhabitants of the village. We had little interaction with them before this. We ha seen some work on their stepped farms and had spoken to some of the children.
It was with this interaction that I realized how very different our worlds were. I imagined myself to be as much a foreigner there as an American in Mumbai city. I saw their lifestyle with awe and disbelief. It was strange to think of the fact that we belonged to the same country, and even stranger to believe that we lived in the same period in time. The villagers were as amazed and curious about us as we were about them.
The lady in the colourful, hand stitched skirt and with layers of heavy silver jewellery scrutinized my friend in her jeans and t-shirt and decided she would probably look good in a hand stitched skirt too, and offered her nephews hand in marriage. Just as we heard this, we knew it was time to leave from there.
As a ten year old, I had seen a picture of Mount Everest on the cover of a magazine. It was amazingly beautiful and kindled in me a desire to go there someday. The towering presence of the mountains, softened by the white snow, made them seem fragile. The rays of the golden sun, bouncing off the carpet of glaciers, lending an aura around the entire mountain, beat any painting I’d ever seen. The Himalayas mesmerized me even before I had ever seen them standing right before me.
The experience of trekking in the Himalayas begins from the moment you begin preparations to get there. Each time you run on a treadmill, panting and sweating, you are aware of how much your body needs to be able to take once you are in the mountains. Each piece of equipment makes you aware of the risks you will be taking. All this just heightens the sense of excitement.
The trek began after close to 50 hours of travel by train and bus, from Mumbai. Each of those fifty hours was spent in getting to know the others who would be trekking with me. It was definitely a group of amateurs, with experienced guides to make sure we get the most of the experience, with the least of complications.
Dead beat from the travel, many chose to sleep in the bus as we made way to base camp. But while trying to catch up on missed sleep, they missed catching the first view of the snow clad peaks. A turn in the road suddenly revealed to us the guardians of the North. That view was truly breathtaking! Most of us forgot to breathe.
That was when a strange thought came to my mind. You can never conquer the mountains, you can manage to get to the top only if they permit you to, because they have the power to wipe out your existence without any effort. It was a moment which actually reminded me of my place in the world.
With great respect mingled with my excitement, I settled into my tent at base camp. As Nature showered us with welcoming rain, and temperatures began to drop, I turned in thinking about just how the past day had changed something in me. I was looking forward to growing up in the lap of Nature over the next ten days.
Morning came with a flash- literally. I was among those who were late risers. We woke up at 6am. Since all the others were up, they wanted to get a picture of the ‘sleeping beauties’ and so they decided to wake us up with a yell and then click us as we sleepily looked back. The picture still brings a smile to my face.
All packed and ready, we went for a short three hour trek to the village of Trijuginarayan. This village is said to have been the place where Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati were married. There is a ‘havan kund’ where the sacred fire around which they had taken their vows is still burning. The priests have kept it alive over the centuries.
It was fun, as we got to know one another, and at the same time, much needed for our bodies to acclimatize to the altitude. At the end of the climb, we had an exercise of trust. All of us stood in pairs at an arms distance, closed our eyes and fell behind on our partners without bending our knees, completely trusting the other person to hold you. Initially, a lot of people could not fall back because it is not easy to completely let go and fall on someone, but we continued the exercise till each one of us were able to trust our partners completely. On a mountain that is so unpredictable, trust is very important and often the only thing that will save you.
After a brief session of breathing exercises and meditation, a subdued and tired group headed back to base camp. Evening brought with it a cool quiet breeze and conversations. Form first experiences of the past few days, to our veteran guides many stories, everyone was in good spirits.
After a quick dinner and an incident with a leech and a toe, a group of us headed for a walk in the moonlight. As fifteen pairs of tired feet started walking with torches in their hands, each trying to keep the other going, none of them knew the magical impression the Himalayas would have on them. Just like a bend in the road sprung upon us the beautiful snow clad peaks, another bend in the road revealed to us the treasure of the Himalayas that one can see only if one has been there.
A full moon hovered just above the peaks, the moonlight romancing the white snow amidst twinkling applause from the stars. It was an unforgettable sight. One that I don’t think any of us would ever want to forget.
As I watched the beauty before me, capturing it forever in my memories, some people tried to capture it on film. For me, it was impossible to capture such beauty on film. All those who tried, did so n vain because none of them got the picture when they printed the negatives; though the camera clicked, whirred and acknowledged the capturing of the picture, each one of them had another picture clicked over it and no signs whatsoever of the moonlight night. Sometimes, it is impossible to steal from Nature’s treasure box.
Next morning, we trekked up to Maggu, a village tucked away in the folds of Nature’s beautiful robe. We set up camp a little before the village and a few of us decided to clean ourselves up with a relaxing bath. The shock of the icy water on your skin can actually make you completely numb. The water was gently flowing but harshly cold. I learnt the hard way why it is important to be a bear with a thick coat of fur to jump in and swim in such waters. But it was an experience nonetheless.
As we trekked deeper into the mountains, away from the village of Maggu, we saw the landscape change from green grass and open fields to a forest of thick tall trees and finally to a white blanket of snow. Walking across sheets of snow that have covered the mountain slopes was quite tricky. The snow is soft and powdery and if you place your foot wrong, you can go slipping down a 300 foot slide with no way that you can stop yourself.
Crossing close to six such patches of snow covered slopes, we reached a ridge to go to a place called Panvali Kanta. We were supposed to make camp there, but a snow storm a couple of days ago had made the ridge very unsafe to cross. Just as we were turning around to go back, our Sherpa guide spotted leopard prints, around ten feet from where we were standing. All our disappointment was forgotten in the excitement that followed. The Sherpa identified the prints as belonging to a young male leopard.
Finally, as we headed back to camp, clouds that had been gathering all day long, decided to make their presence more strongly felt. We were caught in the middle of a shower of large, hard-hitting hailstones. The unpredictability of the mountains teaches you a lot many lessons. It just throws things at you (sometimes literally) and you have to deal with them.
Back at the village of Trijuginarayan, we had an evening to spare before our final descent and journey back to the bustle of city life. That evening, we decided to interact with the few inhabitants of the village. We had little interaction with them before this. We ha seen some work on their stepped farms and had spoken to some of the children.
It was with this interaction that I realized how very different our worlds were. I imagined myself to be as much a foreigner there as an American in Mumbai city. I saw their lifestyle with awe and disbelief. It was strange to think of the fact that we belonged to the same country, and even stranger to believe that we lived in the same period in time. The villagers were as amazed and curious about us as we were about them.
The lady in the colourful, hand stitched skirt and with layers of heavy silver jewellery scrutinized my friend in her jeans and t-shirt and decided she would probably look good in a hand stitched skirt too, and offered her nephews hand in marriage. Just as we heard this, we knew it was time to leave from there.
The Pearls of Gauribidanur
As each day passes by,
I collect memories like precious pearls.
In a small simple box in my soul,
Alive and ever present for all my years.
There are sweeping green fields,
With a halo of Golden flowers.
There are simple people,
You can talk to for hours.
People that I find
Simple and Loving.
Who find me and my camera,
Equally fascinating.
Young and old,
They all respect their work,
Working in the fields,
From dawn to dark.
The life of the village,
I saw etched in a woman’s face.
Bent double with age,
She still had strength, authority and grace.
People with cares of their own,
But always ready to lend a helping hand.
From offering food, to giving you a ride,
They’ll do anything, while you’re on their land
The wind hitting your face,
When you stand in the back of an open truck.
People laugh, ‘coz you’re a funny sight,
But you feel like you have all the world’s luck!
Eating the food there,
May never leave you the same.
But without its share of obstacles,
What’s the fun in the game?
Safe from the tarnishing of time,
In a place where I need no locks,
I place the pearls of Gauribidanur,
Back in my tiny little box.
I collect memories like precious pearls.
In a small simple box in my soul,
Alive and ever present for all my years.
There are sweeping green fields,
With a halo of Golden flowers.
There are simple people,
You can talk to for hours.
People that I find
Simple and Loving.
Who find me and my camera,
Equally fascinating.
Young and old,
They all respect their work,
Working in the fields,
From dawn to dark.
The life of the village,
I saw etched in a woman’s face.
Bent double with age,
She still had strength, authority and grace.
People with cares of their own,
But always ready to lend a helping hand.
From offering food, to giving you a ride,
They’ll do anything, while you’re on their land
The wind hitting your face,
When you stand in the back of an open truck.
People laugh, ‘coz you’re a funny sight,
But you feel like you have all the world’s luck!
Eating the food there,
May never leave you the same.
But without its share of obstacles,
What’s the fun in the game?
Safe from the tarnishing of time,
In a place where I need no locks,
I place the pearls of Gauribidanur,
Back in my tiny little box.
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