Monkeying around and horsing about on a hill station

While going through my old stuff, I happened to find some pictures of a trip which I had been meaning to write about for a while but didn’t come around to it anytime. Murphy states “Anything that can go wrong, will”. This was a trip where several Murphys were working overtime and I was mainly at the receiving end.

It was in the summer of 2006 (or around that time –plus/minus a year or two) that me, Ash and Mike decided to head to the hill station of Matheran for the weekend to escape the heat in the city. It was late evening that we reached Neral station and we started our trek to Matheran without sparing a moment so we could get a place to stay. Adventurous that we were, we had not pre-booked our stay and the convenient apps to book a stay didn’t exist during that time. The trek to Matheran was pretty uneventful and though we reached the Matheran gates around 11pm when everything around was pitch dark and all places closed, we found some locals who directed us to someone who had rooms to let. The room that the person offered was small but it served our purpose since it was enough for the three of us to get through the night; not to mention the slim chance we had of finding another place. This was a non-AC room but the weather was so pleasant that we threw open the windows and the gentle breeze was enough to keep the room cool. Since we had to rise up early the following day to go exploring, we decided to hit the sack early too. We patted the mattress, got the Old Monk Rum out along with the finger food and fixed our drinks… before we could call it a day. And when we did, we left our windows open to welcome the first of the disasters waiting to strike. The owner of the pad had not warned us about the monkeys that attack a room with windows open. I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of monkeys  screeching. There were about 7 to 8 monkeys on the table next to the window where we had left our unfinished food.  I looked around to see Ash was snoring on his side of the bed and Mike who had decided to continue drinking for some more time was slumped in a sitting position with his glass of drink still in his hands resting on the bed while leaving the lights in the room on. My immediate reaction was to shoo away the monkeys; however instead of scooting, they got annoyed and took an attacking stance, to which I backed off. I slowly moved towards Ashwin and shook him, slightly at first and then a little more violently. He opened his eyes, looked at me as if to ask ‘Why the heck have you not gone to sleep yet?’ I whispered to him “Don’t panic, but take a look at the table yonder. He shifted his gaze and he freaked out only to realize what I did earlier that the monkeys get annoyed with any action directed at them. Of all the breathing creatures in the room, only Mike was at peace with himself oblivious to the action scene brewing about. He was also closest to the door and Ash nudged him so he could wake up, open the door and we could bolt out but any effort to rouse Mike paid no dividends. Finally Ash slowly crawled across the room and opened the door. The moment the door was open, all the monkeys dashed out of the window with whatever food packs that they were holding. I jumped at the window to close it, but in jumped one huge mo’fo, grabbed the only pack of chips that was left behind and bolted. We kept the windows shut for the rest of the night, only glad to escape without any monkey attack.

Mike was the first one to be up and in good spirits (pun intended). He got us up and didn’t seem interested at all in the narrative of the night before incidents.  Once we had freshened up, we headed to one of the sight-seeing points that offer a wonderful view of the expanse from the hill station. Little did I realize that I was welcoming another disaster-in-making when we hired horses for going trotting about. We selected our horses; the owner of the horses told us the names and asked us to speak to the horses for some time to get accustomed to them. My horse was Raja and I spoke to it about the weather, its well-being and what-not for a considerable time. We mounted our respective horses but were soon wanting for some more adventure and we requested the owner if we could get the horse to gallop. After much cajoling, the owner relented, on one condition (Thank Heavens) that he would guide the horses on a gallop while we enjoy the ride. He briefed us that we should not be seated and should be literally on the stirrups with knees bent slightly while the horse gallops. We said “cool”.

Mike displayed exceptional talent as he completed his ride and I was all kicked about my ride. I spoke a few gentle words to Raja again and I was ready for my ride. The first 10 to 15 seconds were phenomenal and my adrenaline was all pumped up while Mike, Ash and other passer-bys cheered AND THEN, Raja skidded slightly on some gravel on a bend. He regained his composure in a moment, but I got a little thrown off balance and the reins slipped off my hands. With nothing to hold, I grabbed Raja and hugged him around his neck while he continued his gallop. Before I realized, my legs were out of the stirrups and I tightened my grip around Raja holding on to dear life. It was only seconds but it felt like a lifetime when the owner brought the horse under control and to come to a standstill. I was shivering as I dismounted, when Ash comes up to me guffawing, pointing out to me that my legs were flapping about furiously when they were out of the stirrups and gave the impression that the horse had sprouted wings to transform into a Pegasus gearing up for a flight. I looked at him and if my eyelids weren’t shivering too, he would’ve recognized the intensity of the glare, but it evaded him and Mike joined him in in laughter too. I thanked God silently. We decided we had enough excitement/sight-seeing for the day and we headed to a restaurant for food and Old Monk Rum to set the evening up before we leave homewards.

By the time, we checked out it was 6 and the sun was almost down. We decided to trek it down to the Neral railway station as well, since we had plenty time on our hands to catch the last train to the city. We prepared our ‘Tribal Mixes’ for the way back. Now, ‘Tribal Mix’ is a term we use among our circle and it refers to Old Monk mixed in the Coke pet bottle. Darkness set in rapidly and we were enjoying our ‘Tribal Mix’ and conversation on our trek down. We even stopped to enjoy a waterfall and by the time we were back in dry clothes, we were pretty buzzed. Somewhere along the way on a dark patch, Mike claimed that he saw a ghost-like apparition and that he sensed it following us. I told him that it was all rot and very soon we were arguing whether he was bullshitting or not while Ash remained neutral. Mike challenged me to walk behind away from them if I rubbished his ghost instinct. I said okay, simply turned and started walking in the direction that we had come from. Now, Mike was holding the only flashlight that we had and just to prove myself I continued walking even beyond a bend in the road. I stopped when I realized that it was way too dark and sat down by the side of the road chasing my Tribal Mix till these guys came to fetch me. In ten minutes, when they still weren’t around, I decided to walk back to them. In zero visibility, I didn’t realize when I had reached the far side of the bend and suddenly the gravel beneath my feet gave way, my Tribal Mix shot out of my hand while I slid on the slope from the edge of the road and I grabbed the first thing that my hands could grab and it turned out to be some root of a plant or a shrub (I do not remember which) and my fall was halted. I could sense that I had hurt my ankle in the fall. I didn’t venture to climb up because I could not see a thing. I shouted “Help!, Ash, Mike” and when no response came back, I decided to wait it out. I was filled with disgust that I had also lost my Tribal Mix that could’ve eased the anxiety while I stayed put. After about 15 minutes, I saw a flicker of the flashlight in a distance and then Mike and Ash calling out to me. I responded till they found me sprawled over the edge. They leaned and pulled me up. I had hurt my ankles real bad and limped across all the way to Neral station with support from my friends and sips from their Tribal Mix. We missed the last train and had to wait at the railway station for the first train next morning.

When we got back to the city, a visit to the doctor confirmed a hairline fracture. I was and am still grateful that nothing really bad happened during the trip, when things could’ve taken a turn for the worse on many an occasion. Ultimately, the trip felt like a pilgrimage where I had atoned for my sins with some penance albeit in the form of some bruises and a broken leg. And despite many a fight/argument during that trip, the bond of friendship between me, Mike and Ash was strengthened and we remain thickest of friends till date.

Finally Ozzy-ed… Almost Timberlaked

At last I get to watch the legend Ozzy Osborne perform live. I just cannot control my excitement as each passing day gets me closer to the event.

I was the last in my group of friends to book the tickets for the Black Sabbath concert to be held at Abu Dhabi, as it almost seemed certain that I would not get to go. However things fell into place and I grabbed the first opportunity to book my ticket. However, when I tried to book my ticket online on the ticketmaster.ae site, I just kept getting an error that my ticket could not be booked. Out of desperation, I reached out to the ticketmaster team on their Facebook page and they got back to me promptly. A customer support executive called me up and took down my details on the phone and after confirming the personal details he said ‘Ok. So I am booking your ticket for the Justin Timberlake concert on 23^rd May ….’ The words left me stunned for a moment, but I finally found my voice and bellowed into the phone in a pitch I didn’t know existed. ‘STOP. STOP. STOP.’ I cried out and proceeded to tell him that it was not Justin Timberlake but Black Sabbath ticket that I wanted to book. The CS executive coolly replied ‘No problem. Please wait’, this without probably an iota of an idea of the havoc he had wrecked for a moment unintentionally. Got to admit though that he was helpful throughout and finally here I have my ticket for the concert.

Ozzy! Ozzy! Ozzy!

A Beery Merry Christmas of 2011

With Christmas 2013 just around the bend, I was reminiscing about the Christmas 2011 celebrations in our office and I wondered why I had not blogged about it earlier. So here goes. Now, if you are wondering if the intensifier in the title was meant to be 'very', you better have a beer and come back.

Just days before Christmas, someone among us suggested that we build a Christmas tree with beer bottles. 'Why not? Why not? Why not?' was the general consensus and you can't blame anyone rooting for beer when opportunity knocks. That's where it all began.

We decided that we'd consume Beer as much as required to build the Christmas tree... and we did. Come 23rd December, we stacked the office refrigerator with beer bottles and it was only after work when 'we' started chilling. When we began, every beer we drank contributed to establishing the base for the Christmas tree, and as the tree shaped up, we drank more beer to complete it.

Our creative team came up with an idea that we should reward a crate of beer to the people who guessed the number of beer bottles that the Christmas tree was made of. Since I was instrumental in building the tree, I was the only one who knew the correct answer.

Of course, yours truly didn't participate and nor did my colleagues; the contest was thrown open to our clients and our friends. We had filmed the making of the tree and the edited version (the video in this blog) was displayed on our site to the people at large. We created an emailer for this contest (also included in this blog) and sent it to all our clients and friends. Though we kept this fairly within our known circle, we received over 1000 entries. I had many friends who tried to bribe me with sharing the beers (prize) for disclosing the true figure, but to no avail.

On 29th we disclosed the number and it was just as surprising that among all the entries, there was only one winner and he turned out to be from among our clients. We announced the number of bottles and the winner: the crate of beer promptly sent to the winner. There is no doubt he had a blast for the New Year 2012 celebrations. As for us, we enjoyed drinking the beer while making the Beery Christmas Tree.

P.S.: the winner was one of our clients (name withheld on request) and the number of Beer bottles that contributed to the Christmas Tree was 134. And below is the mailer that sent to clients and friends inviting them to guess the number beer bottles that went into making the Christmas Tree.

Of all things yellow.

The yellow box in front of me is the only bright object that I can today. Everything is dark and gloomy. I stepped outside the office expecting sunlight and even the weather appears to be brooding. It’s like the sun has stepped outside wearing a cloak with the intentions of staying incognito.

Now I am back to the only object that appears bright today i.e. the yellow box and I am apprehensive of what it holds in store for me. I am sceptical in my approach to open it. I can only hope my mom has packed chicken or mutton … or egg for that matter, for my lunch in my yellow lunch box and that just might save the day.  

A tryst with the Dentist

I am very intimidated by dentists. So much so that every time I go to church for a confession of my sins, I pray to God beforehand that the priest may not send me to the dentist for my penance. I think I owe this unpleasant visit to the dentist to Preeti, my sis., who convinced me that, among others, we should also take good care of our teeth. I am still not convinced that I should thank her for the advice.  

However, I found myself waiting for my turn at the dentist’s hoping that it would never come. It brought back memories of another time and another place where I was summoned by the then Principal of my school for being caught while trying to escape the class with the intentions of bunking it. The wait outside the Principal’s office was more agonising than the juiciest of the cane hammering I was subjected to. When I began comparing, I preferred the waiting outside the Principal’s office to the one outside the Dentist’s. Finally, when my turn did come, I resisted the urge to gather my belongings and dash for the Exit door to the free world. The dentist welcomed me with a smile and when I told her that I had come for a dental check-up, she beckoned me to ‘The Chair’ and said ‘Let’s see what you’ve got.’ I would’ve misconstrued the statement altogether if I wasn’t so daunted by the sight of ‘The Chair’ that seem to come straight out of a sci-fi movie with all the gizmos attached to it. Once I was comfortable in ‘The Chair’ (I am using the word comfortable here for the lack of a better word; I should probably have used the word ‘seated’), the lights came on and I thought I saw horns popping out of her head. She asked me to open my mouth and when did, she peered in and after having a good look at the contents inside, she said ‘uh-huh’. ‘What do you mean uh-huh?’ I asked. She said I had more cavities than teeth. I said ‘uh-huh’ and she asked ‘What do you mean uh-huh?’ I said ok, to which she retorted ‘It’s not ok’. I wanted to say uh-huh, but I held back. She said a cave explorer could venture into my mouth for days altogether and still come out leaving unfinished business. And I think, just to prove a point, she prodded my teeth with some instruments which could just have well been a chisel and a hammer, for with every prod she created an intense pain that caused a convulsion so severe that I was rooted to ‘The Chair’ against my wishes of making a dash for the door. Finally when she was done prodding, she laid down the tools and started scribbling the notepad with a prescription for me before I could come to visit her next week. If I were to hazard a guess, she called me next week because she didn’t have the entire set of tools for cave exploring with her and she wanted to be completely prepared the next time around.

The entire ordeal was enough to give me nightmares. Yet, pay her a visit next week, I will. However, I am prepared with counter measures. On the evening prior to my visit, I will down a great deal of whisky. I will drink till my gills are pickled and I am sozzled. The hangover on the morrow should hurt more than what the dentist has in store for me.

Gonna fly now

First weekend in December, I was at Kamshet at the site and while I was grounded because of an injured foot, Ash and Anand were up in the sky flying at will. I was reduced to taking pictures and videos while they enjoyed the wonderful weather in the sky. Come evening and I removed the bandage on the foot (am I glad) and when I felt much better and comfortable, I made up my mind to fly the following day. This was to be my first flight after the flying season had resumed. Though my flight lasted only for half an hour, good thermic conditions ensured that we gained good height at above 1000 mtrs. One that will be cherished for a long time.

2011: New Year’s Resolution

The month of December holds a special meaning for me. Anything I see assumes the colour of green, red and white. Cds, primarily of Boney M playing Christmas tracks, other artists playing Christmas Carols and the likes begin to reappear on the top of the stack. Not unlike any other, I think about Christmas celebrations with family, followed by New Year celebrations with friends. This year is no different. However, the other day, it reminded me that a resolution I made when the year 2011 arrived was yet to be fulfilled.

I welcomed the New Year 2011 among friends at Ramesh’s place. After the clock chimed 12 and we wished each other New Year greetings, I reached out for my glass of whisky. And as I tasted the woody blend, I decided to make my New Year’s resolution. I held out my glass, looked ruefully at the drink and declared to my friends that I resolve to get myself a drinking permit. My resolution was greeted with cheers and the frolic continued.

Over the months, I had completely forgotten about my resolution. It was on the arrival of December this year, I recollected the resolution that I had made. With the very first opportunity, I headed to the Excise Department and procured a ‘Life Time Drinking Permit’. Mission Accomplished :-)

Exploits in Thailand

My Skydiving Video


Performing with a band at Pattaya


Skydiving at Pattaya topped our list, when me and Ivan had earlier chosen Thailand as one of the countries to visit. Little wonder then that we chose Pattaya as our first destination and soon as we’d checked into our rooms we headed out to enrol for Skydiving for the following day. Once committed, we set out to explore the place. There are bars aplenty and, women inviting you for a drink is commonplace. For a reveller, Thailand is Utopia and I won’t delve into this in my blog, but, on our exceptional exploits. We spent our evening at one of the bars on Walking Street, a lane which is abuzz with neon glowsigns and flocking tourists, that leaves an impression that you are a part of some carnival.

Next morning we were picked up from our hotel and taken to the drop zone where the Thai Sky Adventures conduct tandem Skydiving. Skydiving, as anticipated was an absolute thriller, where they took us to about 13,000 feet in a porter pc6 aircraft and then we just lean out and take a plunge. The moment you are about to leap out gives you an exhilarating feeling like nothing else. During our instructions, I learnt that a glider (not a parachute) is deployed after about 45-50 seconds of free fall, and I informed my instructor Frank that I am a Club Pilot in Paragliding. When he was convinced, Frank handed me the brake toggles to steer us to the landing before he took over for the final approach. The Skydiving video is one of the videos (thanks to Pradeep, our camera man) which I’ll cherish forever.

Evening, we landed at Walking Street again to celebrate. We went to ‘Blue Sky’ where a Rock Band was performing to requests. Elated, as we were with our skydiving experience, we placed requests after request for our favourite tracks to be performed by the Band. When I was about 5 or 6 pegs of JD down, I had a sudden urge to sing and approached the band with the request if I could perform with them. They assented and the next moment I was up there on the stage lending vocals to the song ‘Creep’. Ivan could only manage to capture a small snippet for the video as the memory card in the camera got exhausted and could go no further. For me, this was the second thrilling experience of the day.

We stayed in Pattaya for three days before we headed to Bangkok for the final leg of our journey. The day we arrived in Bangkok, was spent in fun and frolic. The next day, we took off early in the morning for Kanchanaburi for the Tiger Sanctuary. By the time we reached the sanctuary, we could only manage to see the tigers at close quarters. If we’d have reached a couple of hours earlier, we would’ve got a chance to play the big cats. However, we found good friends in Jacek and Martyna from Poland on our way to Kanchanaburi. On our way back, we were delayed so much that we’d missed our last public transport from Kanchanaburi to Bangkok. And so, we were left with no alternative than to hitch-hike and fortunately we managed to hitch a ride in a pickup truck and the owner of the pickup was so helpful that, not only did he drop us off at the Kanchanaburi, but he ensured that we got an economical transport all the way to Bangkok. On reaching Bangkok, me, Ivan, Jacek and Martyna ganged up again to chill out for the rest of the evening.


Pandemonium on our way back.

We had only one day left for shopping for family and friends; we devoted the next day to it and, after all the rigmarole we decided to go ballistic that evening. We cleared our hotel bills, packed our travel bags in advance and set our alarms to 7am so that we could reach the airport the next day by 9am, for our flight was scheduled for 12. Needless to say, we were partying till the wee hours in the morning and I woke up to stare at glaring sunlight on my face. I panicked when I saw that the time was 9:10am. I battered Ivan till he was wide awake. We made good time as our cab reached us the airport at 10:45am and we managed to check in our luggage alright. While we were at the screening area for personal belongings, a lady constable accosted me and asked me to step aside. Much to my bewilderment, she emptied the contents of my waist-pouch on the table, and there popped out the empty cartridges of the fired bullet shells, we’d collected as mementos, from Vietnam. When I explained to the lady about the shells, she said that I could carry on, except the mementos would now adorn the trash can. It wasn’t an option presented to me and, my hangover notwithstanding I tried convincing her no avail. Finally I conceded and as I joined Ivan, he reprimanded me for being careless. He also refused to give me one of the mementos shells that he had in his baggage ‘checked in’. My loss coupled with the hangover was enough to get me morose and our connecting flight got us to Singapore where we had another four hours before we could board the flight to Mumbai.

The drama that ensued assumed gigantic proportions. I stepped out of the Singapore screening area while Ivan was now asked to step aside. Ivan had not ‘checked in’ the memento shells after all. While I was only confronted by a lady constable at Thailand for the blunder, Ivan was gheraoed and led to a cordoned off area. I tried explaining to one cop who wouldn’t let me in and though every cop seemed hostile in the beginning, they seemed more responsive when they realised it was only empty shells. The cop I had confronted earlier came back and informed me that it was only some formalities that required taken care of before Ivan could walk free. He pointed out to the lounge where I could wait for Ivan before he could join me within the hour, to which I retorted (understand this, I was still under the influence of alcohol or hangover, if it makes more sense) “Keep him for another three hours if need be” and to myself “while I catch up on some lost sleep”. Formalities done, Ivan walked scot-free and hammered me till I was wide awake. He proudly displayed the gum he’d been chewing all along while he was being questioned about the shells and I thought to myself “is he for ‘real’?” or is ‘he’ for real?” The rest of the trip from Singapore to Mumbai was all about reminiscing, hi-fi-ing and more Jim Beam on Singapore Airlines till we touched down.

View picture at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=277800&id=686198445&l=9fe053a9de

Cambodia: Of Temples, spiders and birds…

Video of me devouring an entire bird in Cambodia ;-)


Day 10: Sept 13

We reached Phnom Penh at around noon and as we alighted we were surrounded by a swarm of tuk tuk drivers who swooped on anyone that resembled an alien entity. After we managed to extract ourselves from the chaos, we headed to the bus station from where we had a pickup to Siam Reap. The bus to Siam Reap would drop us at our destination at around mid-night and so I headed to the nearest Liquor shop to buy some Cambodian whisky. When I returned Ivan excitedly pointed to a lady selling roasted spiders and asked if I was interested in devouring one. “Goes without saying” I said as I made my way to the lady and bought a couple of roasted spiders. Among EEW’s and Yuck’s from our European co-travellers, we bit into the spiders and frankly speaking it tastes nothing different from dried fish and it’s a good drink accompaniment. Enroute to Siam Reap, our bus halted at a restaurant for dinner where one of the accompaniments to the meal was what appeared to be a small bird that was roasted entirely, including the beak and claws. I couldn’t resist helping myself to one and among more EEW’s and Yuck’s from our European co-travellers, I relished the bird. We reached the Jasmine Lodge at around midnight and arranged for a tuk tuk to take us to Angkor Wat.

Day 11: Sept 14

We were advised to reach the site as early as 4 am to beat the crowd and we did just that. While Ivan got around to setting up the camera on a tri-pod to get that perfect shot, I engaged myself in counting the number of tourists who alighted the steps while gaping at the magnificent structure, clearly not noticing the puddle at the foot of the steps and stepping into it and out of it clumsily. As the count increased, so did my excitement; and I knew that it was going to be a terrific day after all. Angkor Wat needs no description; the magnificence has to be experienced. So were the other temples that we covered during the day i.e. Bayon, Banteay Srei and the Ta Phrom temple. Each temple was unique. At Ta Phrom, Ivan appeared interested in the gigantic trees more than the temple itself. However, by evening after we reached the Jasmine Lodge, we decided we’d had more of temples than we’d asked for in Cambodia and we decided to depart for Thailand the following day. Evening we engaged in a game of pool with other tourists from the hostel and it turned out to be a long night as our bottle of whisky came out.

Day 12: Sept 15

After checking out, we bade farewell to our new-found friends, especially Mr. Kunh, the gentleman who owns and manages the Jasmine Lodge, creating an opportunity for young kids to work there and earn for specifically paying for their own education.

By now, we had crossed borders via air (flight), water (speed boat on the Mekong delta); we had decided to cross the Thailand border via land at Poipet. Even though the visa charge for Thailand is nil, the fact that we had got our visas done from India itself made every border crossing much easier.

Saigon

Day 9: Sept 12

We checked into a hotel in Ho Chin Minh only for the purposes of safeguarding our luggage and headed out for the tour of Kuchi village. Having read about the villagers of Kuchi who were peasants by day and Vietcong by night, we could not wait to visit the village. Mr. Lan, from Delta Adventures, was our tour guide and even as he talked about how the simpletons of Kuchi, under the leadership of Uncle Ho, fought the heavily armed US forces, it sounded incredible. At Kuchi, we were told about how the Vietcong built tunnels in three levels and how they survived the enemy by staying crouched inside the tunnels to ward off enemy attack. It’s only when we were shown one of the many such entrances to the tunnel that the magnanimity of the experience struck us. The camouflaged entrances to the tunnels were hardly one and a half feet in length and breadth, just enough for a person to enter only if slithers inside with hands raised. Once in, it only offers you breathing space to go down on your fours and thereon crawl to enter the passage way into the tunnels. Mr. Lan offered us a chance to try and enter one of the tunnels. I grabbed the opportunity and almost got stuck while entering. One minute inside and as I came out, I felt cramped all over. Further on, Mr. Lan held the audience captivated as he explained the guerrilla tactics employed by the Vietcong. Various trap doors and weaponry, crafted from wood and with sharpened bamboo sticks integrated as spears, designed to kill or maim the enemy, kept us in awe. Finally, we arrived at the destination that was one of the key reasons for visiting Kuchi, second to its historic past of course, i.e. the shooting range. Here, one could buy bullets for AK47, MI 16 et. al. and fire it in the shooting range. We bought 10 shells of AK47 each and took our turns to fire them. Fantastic experience. We took 2 shells of the spent bullets as souvenirs. Little did we know that these spent bullet shells will later tell us a different story later on.

Once the Kuchi tour was over and we were back in the city, we picked our bags from the hotel and headed to Chou Doc, from where we intended to cross international borders to Cambodia via the Mekong Delta on a speedboat. Come morning and we joined eight other tourists on the speedboat to Cambodia. Our boat dropped us off at the immigrations and from thence, after having done with the immigration formalities, we were picked up by another speed boat to Phnom Penh.

View pictures on http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=268085&id=686198445&l=ca82d649fe

Castaway in Vietnam

Day 8: Sept 11

On the bus from Nha trang to Ho Chin Minh, we whipped out our tribal mix i.e. Vietnam whisky in coke bottles, soon as we’d settled in our seats. Ivan’d had a restless night in the bus the previous night, was groggy even before he had finished his bottle and was asleep by 10pm, while I nursed my whisky at a leisured pace till I had lapped it all up and went to sleep a little later. I woke up in the middle of the night, around 2am, to realize that the bus had stopped to drop a couple of European girls enroute. I glanced out to see that the driver had stepped out for a smoke and his helper was fishing out the girls’ luggage from the luggage compartment. The stop was at a hotel and there was a dim light in the lobby and no staff around. The hotel itself was the only structure and it was surrounded by fields on all sides. My bladder was bursting at the seams and I saw an opportune moment to relieve myself. I called out to Ivan, but he was deep in a slumber and I decided against waking him. I got down and asked the driver the directions to the loo and he pointed it out to me. I went in and as I came out a couple of minutes later, I was baffled to see the bus nowhere in sight. Only the two European girls were around and I walked up to them to inquire about the bus. Even they expressed their surprise at the bus having started off without me. However they told me the bus had not gone ahead. The driver had reversed the bus and had stopped about 250-300 metres away from the place we were standing. They pointed out to the distance and I could see the bus’s headlights. The effects of whisky and sleep suddenly vanished and I was contemplating if I should walk towards the bus or stay put for it to come back. When the bus showed no signs of moving, I started walking along the road with only the waning moonlight and the bus’s headlight in the distance guiding me. As I neared the bus and was within 50 metres from it, the bus started moving. I waved frantically at the driver. To my utter disbelief, he just ignored me and sped past, while I was left wondering if this was really happening to me. To top it all, the sonovabitch didn’t even stop the bus at the point I had got off it. I started walking back through the darkness towards the only light in the vicinity and the European girls were still there. While walking back, I was weighing my chances of catching up with Ivan in the morning. Fortunately I had a good amount of money, in dongs and USDs, and my passport with me in my waist pouch. So I knew I could travel to Ho Chin Minh in the morning by the first transport available and call up Ivan on his mobile and meet him again. My only concern was, callous that Ivan is known to be, he was most likely to overlook my luggage when he got off.

The European girls had witnessed all that happened and they asked me my POA. They were as bewildered as me and I told them I had no chance but to stay put till I found some transport in the morning to Ho Chin Minh. They were apparently waiting for their hotel transport to pick them up. While we were chatting, my ears picked up the sound of a motorbike approaching and the next moment, I hastily excused myself and was on the road flagging the bike. When it stopped, I explained that I had missed my bus and asked the bike rider if he could help me catch up with it. He agreed and I hopped on waving the girls goodbye. It had been only about 10-15 minutes since my bus had left and I felt a surge of hope as the bike picked up speed and I egged the pilot all the more. A good twenty minutes later, we caught up with the bus and we flagged it to a halt. I alighted from the bike and headed straight to the bus. Now I was fuming and wanted to vent it out on the driver. As I approached the bus, the driver realized his folly and even as I yelled at him, he was apologising profusely and kept repeating only one word ‘sorry’. I calmed down, stepped out again and paid the bike pilot 1,00,000 dongs. He thanked me as I thanked him for bailing me out of a nightmarish situation. As I stepped in, I passed a couple in the bus who were giggling about me being stranded. I was still in a foul mood and I asked them if they thought it was really funny. They said they didn’t mean offence but that it was quite an exciting evening that I had. I acknowledged it and as I passed Ivan to reach my seat, I just shrugged when I saw him snoring, oblivious to the incident altogether. I mused for a while on the incident and smiled at the fortunate turn of events. I wouldn’t lose my luggage after all.

When we reached Ho Chin Minh in the morning, we were collecting our luggage when, the driver happened to come across and I chided him by asking if he always abandoned some tourist or the other in the dead of the night. He apologised again while I laughed him off. That was when Ivan asked me what happened and he looked at me in disbelief as I narrated this entire incident.

Finally we’d reached Ho Chin Minh. We were in Saigon.

To be continued…

Vietnam (Part 2) - Shopping, scuba and snorkelling

Day 6: sept 9

We alighted the train at Danang and took a cab to Hoi An. Initially we did not have Hoi An in our itinerary but had included it at the last moment. When we had booked our train ticket to Danang (that would reach us early morn), we had simultaneously booked the tickets to Nha Trang via an evening bus the same day. We planned to shop in Hoi An during the day and leave the same evening. We reached Hahn Café in Hoi An from where we had our tickets to Nhatrang so we could confirm the time for departure. To our utter dismay, we were informed that the tickets were not available. I argued with the manager that I had already paid cash for the tickets and I was told the tickets were confirmed, while the manager argued that we were supposed to call and confirm that we would travel with the tickets by which we had paid in cash for. I still do not understand where we went wrong; if you do, you belong to Vietnam :p

The hotel bookings that we had done from India in Vietnam and Cambodia went for a toss from thence; we had to pay for an extra day every hotel that we went to after that, since we reached one day late everywhere. Nevertheless, Hoi An proved worth the stay. Hoi An is a shopper’s paradise. The streets in Hoi An are lined with shops displaying clothes of various designs/patterns. First thing that we bought were backpacks in which we could stuff purchases. We bought quite a few clothes and memorabilia from Hoi An. Come evening and we were at the pub ‘Before and Now’, enjoying good music while playing pool with some Europeans. While I was not at my very best, Ivan was playing exceptional and a couple of good shots from Ivan tamed the snobbish opponents that they started taking things seriously. When we finished, the arrogance was replaced by respect in their eyes and we made friends. Later in the evening we went to a restaurant in the vicinity and hogged on various Vietnamese cuisines. Vietnamese food, for one, is something that I really enjoyed among other South East Asian country food that I tasted.

Day 7: sept 10

We got up late and caught up on our lost sleep knowing fully well that we had an entire day before we took the bus to Nha Trang at 5.30 pm. We had to pick up various clothes that we had paid for. I was very sceptical the previous day when I was sold a drawstring trouser and when I returned to the shop to try it, I liked it so much that I asked them if they could stitch 2 more in 2 hours since I had a bus for Nha Trang to catch. And deliver, they did. On time. Perfect fits. All said and done, Hoi An offers more to girls than guys.

The bus was a sleeper coach that travels from Hoi An to Nha Trang during the night. We got the seats on the left flank and to our utter dismay we found that the seats were smaller than the ones in the middle and the right flank in order to accommodate a loo inside the bus. This created so much of discomfort that even the ready mix of whiskey and coke could not ease the discomfort. I grabbed an opportunity and the seat when a traveller from the middle flank disembarked and when I waved goodnight to Ivan, it left him cursing me through the night while I settled into a deep slumber.

Day 8: sept 11

First thing after we checked into a hotel in Nha Trang, we booked a scuba diving and snorkelling trip. The cab picked us up from the hotel at 10:30 am and the sight that greeted us at the dock left me awe-inspired. I had never seen blue waters in the sea and had always wanted to experience it: the only blue waters I had encountered was at the swimming pool I frequented. As the boat took us away to the destination, we were provided the scuba gear and given on various instructions on the sign indications underwater. I always believed I had an aquatic side to me and scuba diving enthralled me no end. I the blue waters were fascinating, the corals and the multi-colored fishes surrounding you were jaw dropping, except you couldn’t drop your jaw in order to keep biting on to the only tube that provided you oxygen underwater;-) Even Ivan who was sceptical about scuba diving initially gave in to the alluring blue waters and decided to experience the waters. We stayed underwater for about 45 minutes and then we surfaced. While it was the turn of the other tourists for scuba, I grabbed the moment to take turns at swimming and then snorkelling in the blue waters. Later we were taken to a different spot for some more scuba diving where there were other varieties of corals and fishes. Scuba diving is an experience; it provides you no adrenaline rush and marine life can only bring you at peace that one craves for in a fast paced life led.

When we reached the hotel, we booked a car that could take us to the Buddha temple in the vicinity. After our visit to the Buddha Temple, we went to a spa and indulged in a mud bath and showers from a mineral spring. In the evening we boarded a bus that would take us to Ho Chin Minh and we had ensured that we selected the seats on the right flank that offered seats with enough leg room for comfort. However, I was still oblivious to an adventure that was due me.

Pics @ http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=243414&id=686198445&l=24e4567176


To be continued…

Venturing Vietnam (Part 1)

Day 4: sept 7:

Vietnam offered us a good deal of highs to keep us on our toes all through. Ivan and me had planned our itinerary such that we fly in to Vietnam. However, to exit the country and to add to the thrill, we had planned to take the boat trip via the Mekong Delta to Phnom Penh in Cambodia. Since we did not have a confirmed ticket out of the country, we were the only guys among all who were escorted for questioning at the immigration. The officer asked us everything possible regarding our stay in Vietnam and our plans to travel out. We answered diligently while ogling at the beautiful Vietnamese air hostesses who were passing by. After confirming that we had enough USDs on our persons to even exceed our stay by four times the number of days that was divulged, our immigration was cleared and we stepped out of the airport. Now we had to withdraw local currency and I headed to one of the ATMs at the airport. The local currency is Dongs and I wanted to withdraw Dongs equivalent to 20,000 INR. I did a quick calculation I almost fainted at the figure I arrived at i.e. 76,00,000 Dongs. I don’t mind admitting that I was intimidated by the seven digit amount I decided to withdraw only 38,00,000 dongs. The seven digit amount was still gnawing at the back of my mind and my hands were quivering while I added the zeros to 38. After much deliberation I hit ‘Enter’. When I got the receipt for the withdrawal, I cried out for joy when I saw the number of zeros (I didn’t bother counting it) that proclaimed the balance in my account. I knew then that I loved the country.

We took a cab to the Central Backpacker’s Hostel at Ly Quoc Su Street in Hanoi. By the time we had showered and settled down, it was late afternoon and we set out to explore. Evening was at a local pub that played some good music. We came back early since we had to leave early for Hanoi the following day. However, when we reached the hostel, we got chatting and made friends with Matt, an Australian and Useke, a Japanese; out came Jim Beam and the night suddenly looked young. After a couple of whisky shots, we joined the bunch of men and women from various countries (other fellow room mates) who were recounting their travel experiences over free beer served by the hostel.

Day 5: sept 8

The alarm failed to wake us up and one of the hotel staff got us up by informing that the bus for Halong Bay would pick us up in 15 minutes. Need I say speed was of essence. I slept in the bus on the way to Halong Bay. On our way, we stopped at an exhibition where I picked up a Vietnamese straw hat. A beautiful girl at the exhibition sold it to me. She was all smiles as I tried it on and I bought it. I was wearing it all the way to Halong Bay posing for pictures wearing it. Even Ivan liked it so much that he posed for a couple of pics sporting it. It was at Halong Bay that a Malaysian lady, we befriended, told us that the straw hat in question was worn only by the women in Vietnam. Ivan almost suffered a stroke while I kept glum. Ivan didn’t want anything to do with the hat after that, so much so that he refused to even touch it since then, while I was adamant that I would carry the hat to India (which I eventually did and the straw hat survived being crushed many times, some of the attempts by Ivan, though it is difficult to say it was intended or not ;)

Halong Bay is an array of magnificent Limestone mountains scattered like islands in green water. Spectacular would be an under statement. We stopped at a trawler selling fishes and we bought 2 big crabs that were cooked and served for lunch on the boat. After lunch, we were taken to a place where we opted for a two person kayak and we set out exploring the various caves in the mountains on the kayak. Initially our kayak refused to move ahead but within moments we were on a roll and were kayaking between the mountains at good speed. On our way back, we picked up a bottle of Vietnam Whisky as we had to leave the same evening to Hoi An via the night train. We prepared our tribal mixes (whisky in cola bottles) for our train journey. When we reached the railway station, we realized that beer cans were freely available at the station. We bought a couple of chilled beers each and began our train journey with a smile on our faces.

To be continued…

Pics @ http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=228124&id=686198445&l=1163e4ce45

Sing Sing on a song

4 sept 2010 (day 1):

Our flight to Singapore was at 00:20 hrs and the 5 hr odd flight landed at Changi airport at about 8 am Singapore time. After the immigration formalities we proceeded to Chinatown, a place ivan and me had previously marked for our stay in Singapore. An airport staff advised us on buying the Tourist Pass which allows for innumerable travel across the MRT network and the buses within Singapore (excluding sentosa) and the pass held us in good stead, as, in the days to come we used the pass to the point of abuse ;-)

We checked in at Service World Backpackers Hostel and headed out to explore right after. Firstly we headed to the Merlion’s Park. Something that surprised me was when we asked people around for directions to the Merlion Park, most of them seemed clueless (or was it us). Nevertheless, the Merlion is certainly promoted more in tourism than it is known. When we reached the Merlion, we took as many snapshots of it as possible for our image bank (Sanjay @ ddw, for one, would be more than delighted about it). Then we proceeded to Boat Quay (pronounce boat key) for some beers and music. Some beers down, we headed to our hostel and downed a coupla Jim Beam shots before we hit the sack.

5 sept 2010 (day 2):

We slept like logs and when I woke up, the room was dark and cool. I tossed and turned, waiting for the sun to come up before I finally got up and the moment I opened the door, bright lights hit me in the eye and the realization dawned that it was already 10 am. Since we had already lost a couple of hours, we got up to speed and headed for Sentosa.

Sentosa islands must be on the itinerary for anyone visiting Singapore. Of all the various offerings on the islands, we headed to the Universal Studios and we decided to check out the others after that. Universal Studios holds you in awe from the moment you set foot in it. There are different sections with various themes in within which one is greeted with shops selling memorabilia while there are LIVE ACTS happening all around the respective theme. The excitement around is contagious and you become a part of the celebrations. We started off with a joyride in the Jurassic Park where or raft cruised into the river and T-Rex and family pop out from behind trees and foliage. The highlight of the ride was when our raft began to rise and a huge Dino appeared right in front of us and roared at us in the face and the raft suddenly dropped into a rapid and got us drenched. The ‘Far Far Away’ Shrek 4D movie is a must watch. The best joyride was ‘The Mummy’. This one took us at high speeds through an abyss of darkness, flinging us around every now and then. Phew!
By the time we stepped out of Universal Studios, it was 7pm and we decided to come back to Sentosa for the underwater world the next day. We joined our neighbors at the hostel , a Phillipino and 2 Australians, with Jim Beam and our evening progressed to late night.

6 sept 2010 (day 3):

Once bitten, twice shy; we set an alarm to wake us. We had set our itinerary to visit the zoo and thereafter the underwaterworld at sentosa. We travelled the MRT to Ang Mo Kio for the zoo. The Singapore zoo is an amazing for the various animals it houses. The wild cats section is quite fascinating and more so because the beasts are not caged. To view some creatures, we had to step into an enclosure and I wondered which was the beast among us. To greet the Cheetahs, there wasn’t even an enclosure. Though it was bounded with a low fence, I still do not cease to marvel at what stops a cheetah, with a determined will to kill, from scaling the low fence and running amok. Ivan had a field day capturing not just the big beasts but even caterpillars and the indescript likes that weren’t meant for intentional display.
We reached the Underwater world at Sentosa right in time for the dolphin show. Dolphins are childlike and fun loving; they respond well to humans and are easily cajoled by applause to put up a great show. It’s a great sight to watch them perform in sync. The aquarium was also spell-binding with big fishes moving all about us. The bright and colorful ones are a spectacular sight and it delighted me no ends.
Little India in Singapore was not at all on our list since the purpose of our trip was to experience other cultures and it was for the same reason that we had chosen to stay in China Town. However two days of Chinese food had us craving for Indian food and there we were headed for Little India for some good biryanis and beer among fellow countrymen.

Next day early morn was our flight to Vietnam and was I excited…

Check out the pics here: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/album.php?aid=221072&id=686198445&fbid=444007748445

Just another rainy day

The alarm woke me up early morn so I could start my day by hitting the swimming pool. Even as I started to get up, one glance at the condensed window pane told me that it was pouring mighty hard outside and I rolled back in the same momentum hitting the bed with a plop. I woke up again later only to see that it was still raining and by the time I was ready to leave for work I was contemplating whether to take the bike to work or hail an auto. Usually I am glad at the prospect of riding in the rain, but I prefer to invoke that adventurous side on a holiday so that I can come back and get out of the wet clothes when I am home. The idea of wet clothes and shoes/socks at work is not appealing. Experience told me that it was futile to even think about looking out for an auto and it was best that I take my bike. So I pulled out of my building compound and I was pleasantly surprised to see four autos lined up outside the gate. I did the second u-turn of the day and parked my bike. And with a smile I headed to the nearest auto. “Amboli” I told him as I leaned to get inside. The Ass stops me as I try to wriggle in and informs me that his engine refuses to start. I walk to the other auto and before the first syllable “Amb” has left me, “No sir” he says. “Sir, my left fuckin foot, you bastard” I yell at him. I turn away to the other autos, and they are both engaged by other passengers now and as they move out, I did my third u-turn of the day. Terrific morning. I kick-start my bike and head to work. As I near Andheri station, my sight is more obscured by people than the rainwater hitting my face. People here. People there. People everywhere. If there is a thin line that distinguishes a pedestrian from a jaywalker, it was washed away by the rains today. Much as I wanted to do the fourth u-turn and head back home, I maneuver my way through the maze of people and finally reach office. At my workstation as I get my laptop out, Arun appears instantly with a steaming hot cup of ‘chai’. “Cheers” I say as I visualize ‘Rum’ in a glass and begin a wonderful day.

Can you take me higher?

Of the seven solo flights that I managed during my CP course, the seventh one remains my favourite. I had already done a short flight earlier in the day and managed to top-land on Tower Hill. It was afternoon when I prepared to launch again. It was a bit thermic and the wind conditions had stabilized a bit after a gusty while. Ash, Kunal and Anand had already launched themselves and were soaring for sometime now. My attempt at launch was foiled by a strong gust and I prepared to launch again. The wind favoured my launch this time around and I was up there among the air traffic. Instructions from Steve were pretty clear that we were to fly with little or no instructions from him and any time we felt uncomfortable, we had to head towards the landing field. We were all flying around for a good while soaring by the ridge and occasionally drifting away to hunt for thermals.

About half an hour later, I saw that the surrounding sky was devoid of gliders save few, including mine. But I was sinking soon and my various attempts at scratching around for any thermal was in vain and I knew that before long I would have to head for the landing field as well. Even as I started to veer towards the landing field, Steve’s voice came alive on the radio instructing me to do just that. With a heavy heart (that seem to be pulling the glider to the earth even more), I steered the glider. And then it happened. I suddenly felt a tug on the glider as I got lifted momentarily. It was as if some giant had pinched the wing, pulling it up before releasing it again. All this while when I was hunting for the thermal, I couldn’t find it and now as I headed for the landing I had encountered it. I cursed as I was torn between two choices. I could either ignore the incident altogether and begin to approach the landing OR at the risk of offending Steve, turn around to take one dig at the thermal. At that very instance, Steve’s voice came over the radio acknowledging the lift and further instructing me to turn left and back into it again. Steve then instructed me over a series of 360s and I could feel my glider rising. Occasionally, during the 360s, when Steve urged me to pull more on the left brake, I was awestruck and the feeling that I was rotating almost parallel to the ground was overwhelming and it was accentuated whenever I saw a major portion of my wing out of the corner of my eye without any attempt at looking towards it. My heart was pounding in frenzied excitement as I continued executing 360s and rising with every maneuver. When, finally, Steve asked me to fly straight, I glanced about. Even as I was executing the 360s, I didn’t imagine that I would gain so much height. The launch area was directly below me and from where I was (approx. 300 mtrs above it), people appeared the size of ants. The landing field was a distant spot at approx. 500 mtrs. I did a 3-dimensional survey of my neighbourhood and with only my feather-winged friends for company, I settled in the harness to enjoy solitude in space, grasping the vastness of the horizon as far as my eye could behold. I was in the air for another good twenty minutes after which I had descended to a point where I had to head for the landing. Now I was satisfied with my flight so much so that if I had to encounter another thermal, I would have simply acknowledged it with a nod and continued on my course toward the landing field. Rather, this behaviour could be attributed to the fact that I had drained the contents (water) in my camel-bak during my flight and the liquid had percolated to my bladder and was trying to force its way out against my will. I executed a perfect landing in cross-wind conditions and after unfastening my harness straps, I headed to pay nature a visit.

CP, revelry and more.

I am usually skeptical about long leave of absence from work since ‘chill out’ in its true sense leaves me more bored than anything else. However, when I decided to go on a leave for 10 days, I was excited since I had applied for the CP (Club Pilot) course in paragliding and it was to be my ‘dream come true’ of flying from high mountains and soaring for a long time.

Me and Ash left for Kamshet on the 27th November and on reaching the ‘Native Place’ at ‘Nirvana’, we met our third batchmate Kunal, while our fourth batchmate Anand was to meet us at the site the following morning. Though the four of us were not quite unfamiliar with each other, I didn’t in my wildest dreams imagine that we would gel so well as a group. Sanjay said we could party as much as we want for 2 days following which we were to be off booze and maintain an early bird schedule during the CP trainings; we followed his instructions to the ‘T’. We partied like crazy on the terrace for the first 2 days. Apart from us, there was a group from Sweden who had come to India for flying. Among them was DJ Atmos, who shared a wonderful collection of music that played while we partied. The second night was a Jam session as Anand had got his guitar and we had some more company from a group from Delhi that sung some and squealed some.

Our CP course commenced on Monday and we were up and moving by 6 am so we could get flying by the time the sun was up. It was an absolute fun experience as we had a wonderful instructor in Steve who would quip every now and then and be stern with his jibe when any one of us messed up. On reaching the site, Steve began with instructing us about the course and no sooner than he had finished that Kunal bombarded him with the first of his many questions to follow. Half an hour later Steve must have realized that we were still grounded and he figured out a wonderful way of getting of the question/answer session, not only for the day but also for the other days to come (Steve has not admitted this yet). He chose Kunal to be the first one to fly. In flying terms, the first one to go is called the ‘Wind Duffer’… rather ‘Wind Dummy’; ‘Wind Duffer’ was a term coined by me out of sheer jealousy (since they got to fly first) until I realized the brilliance of the idea behind it. Steve chose Ashwin as the second WD; guess Ash merited it. Since Steve had already made up his mind on the WDs of the group, he took them tandem first. While our WDs were having the sky to themselves, me and Anand were literally shackled to the ground to improvise on our ground handling techniques. The second day was good as we all got to fly for a bit. Third day was exceptional because of fabulous wind conditions and we got to fly while there were many paragliders in the air as well (air traffic). This was probably the day when Steve chided us all the most. Steve reprimanded us in this unique characteristic, the shades of which I have come across only in English novels. While he rebuked one of us for inattentiveness or gaffes, the others would inadvertently end up sniggering. I can’t help but recount a few here. An instance comes to mind when Ashwin was supposed to turn around left on the ridge, but kept going straight. The next moment we could hear Steve condemning him on our radios thus “For God’s sake, Ashwin, switch your brains on. Turn around left.” While we are left guffawing, Ashwin takes a silent left. There was a time when I was flying close to the ridge and I didn’t realize that I had to turn in order to make way for another glider ahead of me to turn. Steve’s voice comes hissing on the radio “Richard, why are you chasing the French lady? Turn around to your right unless you want to kill yourselves.” I don’t think Steve offered me an option there. And, I am beyond any doubt that the following conversation between Steve and Anand could find its way into the annals of business schools under the chapters of effective communication. Anand had landed after completing his flight and Steve commented on his flight to which Anand replied “Roger”.
Steve: “Who the fcuk is Roger?”
Anand: I mean I understand.
Steve: “Then why don’t you say so. #@& !#@^% &#$^ #%^^%. Do you understand?”
Anand: “Roger that!”
Steve: “#@& !#@^% *&#$^ #%^^%.”
If it weren’t for the chest strap and leg straps keeping me in check, I would have fallen off my harness.

I wouldn’t do it justice if I ignored this conversation between Steve and Kunal. On the final day, we had completed our flights and Steve had called us in the AV room to recount the points covered in the course. Once done, he asked us if we had any questions. Needless to say, Kunal pounced on the chance like a warrior with a polished sword, waiting only for a cue. He charged. Steve answered them all patiently. And Kunal asked. Infact he kept on asking even when it was Anand’s turn, Ashwin’s turn and my turn later. Once the Q&A session was over, Steve put on a video on paragliding that he wanted us to watch. Just as the video started playing, Kunal conjured up one more question and blurted, “Steve, I don’t understand…” “I know” said Steve before Kunal could go any further and walked away from the AV room leaving us in splits.

All our evenings were spent on the terrace and each one of them was laced with fun. Though, we played the guitar almost everyday, I particularly enjoyed on evening when a girl gang from Mumbai had come down to Kamshet. We were already done playing music and were having dinner when they arrived. One of them requested if we could play a couple of tracks and of course we relented. One song led to the next and before long it looked like we had only begun. While me and Ash played the guitar, the group lent their vocals to the songs played. If I get my hands on the video of this jam session that was shot by them (and I am promised a copy), I’ll definitely share it here.

Finally, I cannot express in words the gratitude I feel towards Steve, Sanjay, Ravi, Sandeep, Bond, Vinay and my three partners in flying i.e. Ash, Anand and Kunal, for making this a wonderful experience. Also, I cannot thank Pushkar enough for the lip smacking dishes served us during our stay. A week after I have come back to Mumbai, I still reminisce about everything that made this CP course special. And to add to it, I am still to come to terms about my longest flight that lasted 1hr.40mins. and my highest flight that took me 200-250 mtrs above the launch area (approx. 1500 feet above sea level). I look back and I say to myself “Wow!”

Click here to view pictures.

And if you are interested in flying/chilling out, you can log on to www.flynirvana.com/ and get details.

Behold! My name is .....

“What’s in a name?” quotes Shakespeare in his popular works of Romeo and Juliet. Of course, he was alluding to the fact that a rose wouldn’t be any different if it was called a sunflower. Some fodder for the grey matter there, but of late I have come across people with some unusual names that I can’t help digging in the deep recesses of my memory to credit as many as I can remember.

Let’s begin at the beginning. When a couple brings a child into this world, I am positive, one of the first things that they as parents of a newborn do would be to discuss what to name it. You just can’t keep referring to it as ‘tch tch’ or ‘hey you’, for that matter. You also don’t name it ‘Surf XL’ or ‘Lays’ because you have not manufactured it; you have given birth to it. If a man has put in effort and if a woman has borne the child for nine months, it’s only fair that they spend an hour if not days to freeze on a nice name that the worthy child can carry it for the rest of its life.

Just the other day, I came across Perpetual, a cousin of mine, (Perpetual, as a name, has always been a muse when discussing names) and after the initial pleasantries were exchanged she launched on a barrage of everything unpleasant in life, so much so that despite valiant efforts on my part (which included flailing my arms in the air) to escape the incessant chatter, I was rooted to the spot. Poor me thought I was perpetually screwed… to the ground, I mean. Another name that baffles me is Immaculate and if I come across someone who’d introduce herself as “Hi. I’m Immaculate” I’d surely retort “What makes you think I’m not?”. A classmate of my brother went by the name Assumption. The list could go on but some people ought to have paid more attention in the grammar classes or should have been detained in the same class for another year if they could not tell the difference between an ‘Adjective’ and a ‘Proper Noun’. Equally amazed am I when come across people named after flowers e.g. rose, tulip et al. or colours like Pink, Violet etc., my only concern being one can get carried away and start naming children Burgundy or Bluish-green. A few years ago, on my trip to Kerala, I had come across a man whose name was Baby Jacob and no kidding about this. This was one Baby that was neither a girl nor a baby. This Baby was a towering 5’11”, had a rough and loud voice, sported a moustache and was forever seen in a lungi, an end of which he held in his left hand as he walked a masculine gait, partially exposing a hairy lower leg. I stopped referring to any girl as ‘Baby’. Another incident reminds me of how misled I was when I was in the eighth standard in school. I had always been under a preconceived notion that ‘Durgaprasad’ was the typical second grade eatery or restaurant in the bylanes of any streets in Mumbai until in std VIII, I came face to face with a bloke who went around with the same name and when we were introduced I couldn’t help but exclaim ‘Holy Prasad!’. I am reminded of yet another chap from std. VIII whose name was Y.P. Reddy. Even the teachers addressed him as YP. And if you are wondering why, YP had a unique first name which if one attempted to pronounce, would result in a knotted tongue in the mouth. If his elder brother is to be believed, it was on one of those days when YP was just born and his father had reached out and affectionately lifted him from the cradle when, without warning and in probably one of his mood swings, YP swung his leg and hit his father right in the family jewels. You don’t need a Sherlock Holmes to deduce how his father got even with him. Now he’s got a name he can’t pronounce and initials of which rhymes with ‘Why pee?’.

This reminds me of the time when my dad told me how I got my name. I was the first born and my parents were debating on what to name me. My dad had a list of names and when he discussed the list with my mom, she disapproved the list. She wanted her first born to have a typical regional name. My dad waved his list at mom; my mom counter argued. My dad recalled that even I raised objection to mom, but my wails from the crib fell on deaf ears. Just when it seemed like my dad was about to give in, one look at this helpless child gave him some inner strength and he stood his ground, refusing to be cornered. He launched a staunch tirade against mom till she relented, however with one condition that he would not have any say when naming future children. True to her word, she carried on with her threat and named my siblings that followed ‘Anita Lopez’ and ‘Preeti Lopez’ and I still get the shivers when I think about how narrowly I escaped being named something like ‘Ramu Lopez’.

Hey Dawg, don’t Bitch!

Ajmal Amir Kasab needs no introduction. By the vile act committed by him and his cronies on 26/11 and amongst them, being the sole survivor, he has toppled every other loathsome creature to become the latest international face of a terrorist. Ever since he’s been captured, he’s been trying to play the cat and mouse game, with little or less regard to the Indian sentiments. Disillusioned even in captivity, I might add. Be it making unjustified demands for newspapers (dude, you ain’t put up in a luxury hotel) or pulling monkey faces in the midst of the trial (don’t blame you for that… I’ll pass). Now, he’s sprung another bolt from the blue by confessing his crime when it was least expected. Goes on record saying “My crimes were committed in this world and the people of this world should punish me. I do not want punishment from God” (dude, seriously, you must be kidding. This condition of yours is monumental, considering you are demanding absolution from the Almighty).

Spare us the sob story, mate. Your trigger happy days are over. Crimes committed by you deserve severe punishment. You are nothing but a murderer. You ain’t shown no mercy. You ain’t getting none. Hey Dawg, don’t bitch. Allow me.

Party time at Kamshet

Needless to say we will all miss flying for a while. But it has been a fab season and we had all come down to Kamshet to bid adieu to the wonderful flying season and celebrate. For all who know Sanjay, Astrid and company, celebrations don’t need a reason and each day gone by is reason enough to make merry. And it is precisely why any visitor, a pilot or not, has a good time at the ‘Native Place’. However, the party on 30th May was a special occasion and it has been a ritual for years where the Nirvana gang gets together with the locals to host a ‘Puja’ to the Goddess for the advent of rains in the months to come. Me and Ash reached the Native place by noon, right in time for a coupla beers, some delicious pork vindaloo and chicken feast. After a snappy siesta, we were on our way to Shelar and we didn’t waste any moment to strap our harnesses on and begin ground handling. Like Anand, a co-pilot, said ground handling is an exhilarating experience and the joy of keeping the glider aloft while your feet are firmly planted on the ground knows no bounds. The place was swarmed with all of us enjoying the ground handling session. There was Noel, Apoorva, Dwayne the Daaku, Ashwin, everyone lost in trying to keep the glider overhead. I, for one, was making the most of the occasion and I was playing with the wings allotted to me with the enthusiasm of child at playtime. I lost track of the time till Vinay came up to me and said it’s time to pack up and party. Reluctant as I was to let go of the wings, the word ‘Party’ somehow struck a chord with something within me and I made my way back. Anand was having a gala time with his wings and he was probably the last person to come off the field. His enthusiasm reflected with the fact that unlike everyone who mushroomed the gliders and came off the field, Anand ran down the entire length of it with the glider aloft right to the point where we were all assembled. Some spirited performance that, and I’m sure he enjoyed every bit of it.

We all moved to the Shelar Mama’s abode. We also had the company of the Local guys and children who were eagerly waiting for the festivities to begin. While the children enjoyed the soft drinks we got started on the booze. Pushkar was behind the music console and he set the mood for the evening with a track called ‘Banao’. The guys had prepared a makeshift dance floor and as soon as the first track was over, someone requested the song ‘Main hoon Don’. The best part of the evening was that the local guys and the children wanted only three tracks to be played and the same was kept playing in a never ending loop. Since all of us wanted the local guys to enjoy, we played along. Someone did manage to squeeze in a coupla Rock n’ Roll tracks, but that was it. The music again went back to playing the same 3 songs in a loop and it wasn’t long before all of us were on the dance floor and everyone was enjoying the same 3 songs and no one gave a damn. Never in my life did I imagine that one day I would dance to the title song from the Jitendra movie ‘Tohfa’ and really enjoy it. The evening was an absolute riot. Another highlight of the evening was the dinner which was meat cooked on wood and there was a flavor to it that simply enhanced the taste. After a fun-filled evening we headed back to the native place which played host to the fireflies at night. We switched off the lights and enjoyed a few more beers in the company of the fireflies. The evening ended with celebrating Dwayne the Daaku’s birthday in the pool. The next morning, as we all started for our homes, I felt that I simply cannot get enough of this place. I am sure everyone felt the same. Astrid assured us that we will all meet again during the monsoons. I am looking forward to it.

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