Meghalaya – Come home to the Clouds Waltz

When I thought I would not recover from the heartbreak of leaving behind the mountains of Arunachal, Bhalukpong happened. I almost embraced infidelity when I slowly and surely started warming up to the Khamang river..the white pebbles on the river bank creating a tableau of beauty unbound..there is nothing like waking up to the gurgling sounds of the river…a morning expedition to the river got a little disrupted with ‘elephant’ threats from the locals..and we returned cleansed to dig into a sumptuous breakfast at the resort.

The journey then took us to Meghalaya..and I indulged in adultery as I started forgetting the rustic beauty of Arunachal and getting smitten by the fame and ‘elan’ of this endowed region. She is the one blessed by the fairy god mother – pristine hills, umpteen mezmerising cascades, clean and enchanting villages and of course woman power!

While the entire country is screaming diversity from the roof top, this is a state where the women run every shop, every business and are rubbing shoulders with men in every task at hand! This is a state where you do not need to display your cheap paranoid tourist tactics – bargaining is passé, looting is unheard and none of the villages and sights are doctored for tourist interest but are breathing life spaces! Irony hit me in the face as the trip took us to the ‘cleanest village of Asia’ and we the Indians are clicking snaps of a clean village rather than hanging our heads in shame that we learned nothing from Meghalaya!

The Umiam Lake at sunset is a scenic point difficult to explain..it stood there displaying it’s crimson and red hues ..an asymmetrical patch of vegetation, water and red hills. The next morning took us on a trip to unearth the treasures of Meghalaya including a symbolic touch point at Bangladesh where I stared at the oddity of seeing a ‘Welcome to India’ board.

Riding up hill tops and being surprised with an assortment of waterfalls – not one like the other, each one in its grandeur even on a summer noon. The splendorous sights behind us, we were on an expedition next to walk through the living root bridge – a natural phenomenon so unreal! And if that wasn’t enough, a twisty turny and crawly adventure inside the natural Mawsmai caves was another jewel in this region’s crown. Numerous picturesque villages whirred past…beautiful dames in their traditional attire going about their business…sights to enjoy and behold!

I was in a mistaken state of satiation telling myself that there can be nothing more in store when I went on the last leg of the journey to Chirapunjee or Sohra as the locals know it and the breathtaking views and pastures and pathways that unfolded on this journey made me realize how shallow my trip has dug into this state’s treasures. Sohra in one word is magic and our rustic tit-for-tat for Swiz countryside..I inhaled the purity of it all and had the impossible desire to store it within me for future usage – to counter the battles that city life throws at you.

But of course, silly me and my desires, I sat in the car – letting the wind caress my face, seeing the small villages dissolve into the twilight, smiling at the tiny tots playing untarnished by the devils of the city and breathing in Meghalaya one last time before life and journeys take me afar.

Arunachal – Where Mountains Reign

It is an arduous task trying to encapsulate a trip to Arunachal Pradesh into words. It is a journey more than a destination, an experience more than a trip, a string of towns and villages than “tourist spots”.

It is like road-tripping into a pantomime of changing landscapes – the roads wind into infinity, the fog sometimes sprinkles magic on the windshield, the mist sometimes engulfs the majestic mountain peaks, waterfalls gush out of the rocky terrain at unexpected bends and curves and the stately Kameng river accompanies us through this enchanting journey.

We hopped into the “border” area of Arunachal Pradesh called Bhalukpong where one has to display passes and complete procedures for entry. And then the roads took us uphill into the sleepy town of Bomdila – the fog thickening into an invisible blanket as we checked into the cozy comfort of our rooms. A shivering night and a breathtaking morning waking up to the clouds and mountains and we bid goodbye to the happy faces of the hotel staff.

And then the roads wound into curves and took us through an array of tiny villages – their cute rustic houses bordered with an enviable collection of flower pots, small children playing to their hearts’ content, ladies breaking into stones with their tiny tots saddled in a sling…charming sights that warm you and question your rushed and hushed urban existence.

After a while the villages vanished and were replaced with army barracks, olive green trucks and an army of personnel who guard the country from the border forces. And the moment that I awaited flashed before me – Sela Pass – an isolated haven of snow peaked mountains and frozen lakes..I could not have asked for more as a slight snow erupted with soft little flakes brushing my hair and nose! The hangover of the sweaty days in Bangalore made me scream out in elation and the crunchy feeling of snow in my bare hands was pure bliss found in the summer month of April. Mustering as much courage as I could, I walked, soaked in and enjoyed the icy white landscape and hesitantly moved on to Tawang.

Tawang is a mischievous town of varied weather – as one layers up the winter clothes, the sun would peep out and shine over the valley and mountains. As you step out to enjoy the sun, a mad torrent of rain will come pelting down to chill your bones. As you step out of the comfort of the heated room, a gush of winter fog will get you scampering back. A non-touristy tourist location – it boasts of a 400-year-old monastery that will awe you with its rustic architecture and monks who go about their business. When you tire of the walk and sights of the valley, you can indulge in the yummiest momos and simply rest to soak in the sights and sounds of its charming people and regal weather.

The journey back was equally mystical and we had the luxury of a halt at the picturesque town of Dirang where the river, mountains and houses united to greet us. As we descended into the plains, the rear view mirror capturing the last specks of the peaks and fog, there was an uneasy longing for the mountain, valley and small town charms..I was almost unsure whether I left a part of my soul behind or whether I carried a piece of Arunachal within me as I bid goodbye?

Finding your “manjadikuru”….!!.

What it all boils down to is finding your own “manjadikuru” amongst the thorns and dusty roads of life.

The “evasive” manjadikuru – those red precious things that can lighten up your face..

The warmth and the rarity of finding those “childhood” seeds when you least expect it…

The fun that it evokes as you collect..rumpling up into your dress as a few drop back..

The word “mindfulness” so apt on a morning “manjadikuru” expedition..

The continuous habit of doing more and doing fast leaves us in a blur

A blinding tornado that throws out more dust… that shuts out nature and the little somethings around us..

There is so much more in this world than your blown up troubles and egos ..

So much beyond your financial and economical straight jackets...

Search and you shall find – those little manjadikurus..

Sparkling in a smile from a dear one..

Hidden in the sweat of your yoga mat..

Blended in a tear of gratitude from a stranger…

Melting into that last drop of choco-vanilla cone…

Chirping in a little branch of a tree..

Yes, you can find as far, take home as much and cherish to your heart’s content

Go get your manjadikuru!

Women - Don't Ask

This year has witnessed a series of rumbles that turned into murmurs and finally exploded into screeches – women asking for their space on the planet and flushing out myths that have shaped into gospels in our society…!

But one look back at our history – our Indian history should tell you what is so obvious – that women were in the forefront – walking with (and sometimes ahead of men) in all walks of life..from politics to poetry..from administration to arts..there wasn’t a doubt in their minds to distinguish women from men. So it was but natural that women were emperors of large kingdoms..that women fought battles for ideologies that mattered…that women exhibited their “craftwomanship” with equal ease at painting, music and dance.

The women of India were blessed with an equality that was so in-born that their contribution and participation was a “way of life” – never needing a gigantic push nor needing a powerful pleading for equality..rights that were so alien to Western society -  but what happened in the span of last few centuries & decades?

Why are we now at a precarious juncture where every move is tinted with the over-used “clichés” of “diversity” and “feminism”? Why is there a dramatic exhibition of “womanism” – the never-ending landslides of Women’s Day token appreciations..the “botoxing” of glamour and glitz into every face & phase of a woman..the over the top demonstration of feminism that stays at the flimsy layer of social media?

Why are we pleading and crying ourselves hoarse for something that always belonged to us? Maybe it is the continual erosion that our value system has undergone over the years… the venomous thoughts that have been cultivated into the minds of our men and …the apathy that society has always displayed in the wake of assaults & insults that women have been exposed to! All that has summed up into the imbroglio of harassment & break-outs that we see all over the globe!

So this Women’s day, women - while we manicure our “oh-so-sensitive” finger nails let us also understand that we belong in the truest sense! We are as rooted and as entitled to our space on this planet as the “other sex”..and let us also appreciate that we are as responsible for our destiny and what we make of it..

And to all the men who are trying hard to wish and offer flowers for this Woman’s day…please instead take a moment to reflect why we need a ‘special” day to appreciate the very woman who has given birth to you..who shares the burdens of your life from the break of dawn and the unjust need for her to “ask” for equality when it always was hers to keep, to enjoy and to preserve!

Where history enthralls - Belur and Halebedu

I consider myself vulnerable and open to seduction.. when it comes to history, art and architecture…and so when the talk of a picnic arose..I quickly put Belur & Halebedu on that list to be seduced and mesmerized (yet again) and return as the lovelorn smitten one (yet again)!

And the grand family picnic commenced in a van that had more luggage, food that outnumbered the passengers in the vehicle. And once the journey commenced, my rumbling tummy switched on “travel mode” which essentially meant that a sumptuous breakfast would have to be the first stop! So while we were debating and strategizing on how to save time, we ended up unleashing a culinary onslaught at the restaurant…there is something in the air that makes you overeat and step up the adventure quotient when it comes to travel meals..and I relished the South Indian magic of crispy dosa tangoing with filter coffee.

Tummies full, we started to the first destination of  Halebedu temple at Hassan..a 1000 year old temple that sits amongst the rustic village landscape of Hassan..its architecture astounding and its carvings incredibly intricate…it needs time to soak in the history and meaning of each of the exhibits at the temple. Yet again, it is a beacon of the superiority of the generation that lived before us – devoid of the “automation” that we so proudly believe to be the talisman of our generation – they have constructed structures that are still so beyond the reach of our abilities – in beauty, in size and in stability – these structures have literally stood the test of time, invasion and seasons!

While the sun glistened and brought alive the massive monolithic bull (nandi) – our bodies surrendered to the fury and rushed into the comfort of our van..a sumptuous meal at a local restaurant and we landed at the next jewel at Hassan – Belur temple! And barring the new age “gopuram” that ostentatiously rises above the entrance gate, it is as beautiful and as massive a temple grounds as Halebedu..a vast expanse of stone columns, temples, pond and pillars! We rested our tired and lazy bodies inside the temple – the stone cooling our aching feet with its cold touch and the beautiful carvings lighting up with each ray of sun that entered the sanctum! We ambled around the temple – sitting one time, laughing another - unwinding and awing every moment of time spent at this magnificent historic site.

And as we unwillingly started the walk back, the sun unveiled its glorious self one last time before it set into the horizon! A spectacular performance in yellows and bright crimsons and the pillars of Belur playing its part to the brim – complementing and blending into the last frame that we took home as a token – of the warmth of a family picnic, of the beauty that resides at Belur and of the memory of a day well spent.

The “I” of the storm…Padmavat

There is “paid” marketing and then there is “incidental” marketing and Padmavat is a movie blessed with marketing of both nature in equal measures and after going through the 3 hour long drawn “reel” battle, I am mighty sure that the incidental marketing from all quarters will be the reason if not the “only” reason to watch the movie!

Like the quintessential urban Indian who has been following the drama unfurl over the “I” of Padmavat followed by the rotation angles of “Ghoomar” and many such critical matters, I was dying to see the movie to trace the furore through the reels.

And from the moment it unfolds till the end, my curiosity was left unanswered..and taking out the controversy from the movie is almost like taking the wind out of the sail…the movie falls flat on its face, motionless and extravagant and one leaves the hall tired (it’s a long movie to say the least) and untouched!

If the movie was up for a fashion show or a “tableau” competition, I would vote for it hands down – the costumes are elaborate, every frame and angle meticulously planned and aesthetically conceived – it is a visual stunner without a doubt and I would give it up for the thousands of hands and brains that must have toiled hard to make this magnum opus come alive on screen! One cannot miss the stark contrast of vibrant crimsons and pinks that celebrate the “Rajput good” and bleaky greys and blacks that demarks the “Khilji evil”..from the kohl in Ranveer Singh’s eyes to the figurine on Deepika’s necklace..the effort of the crew of the movie must be as strenuous as the battle it portrays in the movie!

But if we scratch beyond the Indian weaves and massive pillars of Rajput regality, we are left wanting – Yes, Deepika looks every bit a Rajput queen (on second thoughts, it would be difficult not to look it with the elaborate backing of costumes, jewellery and art direction)..Yes Shahid has put up a decent façade of the righteous king…Yes, Ranveer gobbles up the movie through a myriad of scenes, songs and dialogues to cement his “evilness” in the movie…but at the end of the day, the script did not thrill me, the scenes were far too many and after a point I got weary of the constant attempts to remind the audience of the total eclipse of evil that Ranveer tries to portray..and the final straw when the movie finally returned to its roots – that of a Bollywood masala movie…when Ranveer clicks his tongue and gyrates to a song that just knocked off any semblance to “period drama” that the movie was trying so hard to achieve!

So at the end it all, I could figure out that the disclaimer had more lines than credits, that Rajput pride has been upheld and overemphasized in the movie and that Ranveer Singh will walk away with all the accolades for his dramatics and the movie will be hailed as a hit while I walked out of the hall carrying nothing more than the popcorn tub to be disposed off!

Burn, Ban and Block..the Republic of our dreams!

We are  a day away from the “Republic Day” rigmarole of flag hoisting, hunt for the tri-colour accessories and the elusive “white kurta” and logging into the “biggest sale” of them all…in the order of priority of course.

But is this the Republic that our forefathers envisaged and fought for us? Our blood boils for the “I” of a Padmavat but we grow distant when a human is lynched for reasons best known to the murderer. Our over-sensitive sentiments get hurt when one part of a line of a song is broadcasted but our souls are not touched when an infant is molested for simply being born with a vagina.  We can easily overlook the poison in our food and the pot holes in our roads but cannot forgive a “slip of a tongue” or an incorrect tweet. We care for the “historic bordering on imaginary world” spun in our minds but cannot care less for humanity that starves and shivers to death in our country.

The rights and justice lie in the deep-pockets of money and power and if you are not blessed with either of them, you had better learn to wait and die for your turn in the long-winding red tape of justice and bureaucracy. While “amazon prime” can deliver your order in an hour, justice needs to take its time.

The blood that should unite us divides us into segments of inhumanity that nods and beheads at the skip of a hearbeat..it takes only a venomous speech to transform an embrace into a choke ..it takes only a suspicious intent to kill your neighbor..killing never looked easier and flimsier than it looks today!

We oscillate between fiction and facts with a unique skill that is so Indian…on one side we are screaming disruption and artificial intelligence and on the other hand, we are “knee-jerking”  when our individual interpretation of morality is even remotely threatened.

Perhaps this Republic day instead of worrying over the “fancy dress” that you need put up for a function, let us truly make an effort -  to understand what the constitution lays out for us, to appreciate the history and blood that flowed to form the Republic of India, to shed the hide of insincere & external patriotism and drive closer to the soul of our country. “Secularism” and “Democracy” cannot rust and erode over the years and as the flag unfurls and the parade ground comes alive this Republic Day, let us live our Constitution each day rather than kill for it!