And on Sunday, she rested

The last five days of running around in the sun and having fun have taken a toll on me. As is a holiday ritual with me, I was badly sunburnt. So today, I decided to celebrate Sunday in a haze of Avil induced sleep. Since you have vicariously enjoyed my holiday, I think it is only fair that you get a dose of details of my sunburnt, itchy skin! I am kind and generous like that.

So my arms are burnt. They are red and itchy. Fortunately, the burn on the face is limited to my lips (which are scaling a little). Thanks to a tablet of Avil, lots and lots of lotion, and a blast from the air conditioner I have managed to keep it in control. Since I had covered all the spots of Hampi in the last two days, I decided to stay in the hotel the whole day. I had a heavy breakfast. Came back to my room and went to sleep. SKT called and it was a pleasure talking to her. I love the excitement I hear in her voice when she talks about my travelling alone. I went back to sleep with a big smile on my face.

After a good four-hour nap (yes, I’ll call it a nap), I got up and did a mental revision of the days gone by. For those who know me, I do these revisions often. Since I don’t plan to cry on 31 December this year as I’ll be with friends, I decided to do the recap of the year a couple of days early.

The year has been good. Mom’s chemo cycles of the year weren’t too bad. She once again fought like a hero and came out of it with a big smile and a fresh mop of hair. She became more active on Twitter. Made new friends and planted loads of pots. Thinking about both of these achievements of hers make me happy.

I look back and think about friends. Friends who stood behind me like rocks (it’s only fair that I call them rocks since I am blogging from Hampi) ensured that this year was enjoyable. Parle, Sangy, SKT, Anky, Titu, Loofah, Jaspinder, and Sweater, ensured that I smiled and laughed even when things were on the edge of going terribly wrong. Now that look back on the year, I travelled a lot. I went to Pachmarhi with friends, to Dalhousie and Khajjiar on an office trip, to Udaipur with mom, to Bhopal with mom to meet family, and now to Goa and Hampi. From where I stand, it is very difficult for me to remember what went wrong this year. Thank god! I think this year was awesome.

If all the travelling was not enough, I also pushed myself to get out of my comfort zone and learn a new language. I plan to continue learning Spanish in the months to come.

I paid all the E.M.Is for my car. I also spent a lot of money on gadgets. I bought myself an iPod, a MacBook Air and a phone. And as Loofah will remind me again with a well-deserved smirk, I was supposed to be on an austerity drive this year. Well that is one resolution I don’t mind postponing to the next year.

The biggest achievement for this year is that I have not cried even once in the last 7 days. I think that is a record of sorts. Hopefully, I will cry even lesser in 2014.

This evening, I will be taking an overnight bus to Goa. Will return to blogging about the travels and adventures tomorrow.

Have a great time!

Celebrating, celebrity style!

The day began early, very early. I went to see the sunrise at, wait for it, sunrise point. Santosh had told me to be ready by 5:15 am. I, being me, was up at 4:30 am and ready by 5 am. It was pitch black and windy and cold when we left the warmth of the hotel. The 2 kilometer drive to the sunrise point was one of the longest drives of this trip. Thoughts of all the things that could go wrong came to my mind and I had to fight the negativity and force myself to enjoy the adventure.

And boy, was it an adventure! We reached the base of the point, a Lord Ram Temple, in 15 minutes. It was still dark, so dark that the moon was shining bright and if one thought of doing it, one could count all the stars. Santosh led me to the temple where two pujaris were doing a path of Ramayana. I was informed that in that temple Ramayana was read without a break. Two pujaris each, read in three shifts, through the day and night. The experience would have been truly divine if they sang/read in tune. Unfortunately, they read like others accuse me of singing. It was almost a torture to wait for other enthusiastic travellers to reach the base point and the light to break. After listening to the Ramayana for a little more than half an hour, another auto arrived at the temple gate. Santosh and the other driver exchanged notes and it was decided that we could begin the climb with the help of the torchlights installed in their mobile phones.

The climb was a mini-adventure in itself. We had to climb a way, which was made of huge boulders with smooth surfaces. Finding a foothold on those boulders would have been a task even during broad daylight but doing it before dawn was a nightmare for me. I somehow managed the climb without hurting myself and found the perfect spot to see the sun rise from behind the hills. We still had another 20 minutes of wait before light started to creep in. The experience of watching a sunrise is always special. My thoughts continuously went to back to the month of March when I was in another part of the country watching the sunrise with my friends—Anky, SKT, Sangy and Titu. The joy that the first ray of lights bring were no different today. I saw life spring into action before my eyes.

By this time, the number of tourists on the hilltop had increased manifold. The birds had woken up and were giving their morning calls, and in the distance I could see farmers beginning their morning rituals. Surprisingly, only foreigners had made the effort to wake up early and climb the top. There were no other Indian tourists apart from me. I noticed that most of them were carrying bunches of bananas. I thought to myself, ‘They might want to eat the bananas before breakfast. What an idea! I should have bought some for myself as well.’ But to my horror, the bananas were for monkeys.

While light had filled the entire sky, the sun was nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, a troop of monkeys ascended on the hilltop. To begin with the tourists were giving a single banana to one monkey at a time. Then a big one came and decided one was not enough for him. He snatched the entire bag and went down the slope. And then I saw the most foolish woman ever. Like really, EVER! She ran behind the monkey and tried to snatch the plastic bag with the bananas. Almost an hour of waiting for the sun had passed by then. I had lost patience and decided to go back to the hotel.

Santosh complied. As we were driving down the hill, I spotted an orange sun. I squealed, I kid you not, and asked him to stop the autorickshaw. I was out of the vehicle with my camera around my neck and bag negligently left behind in the autorickshaw. I saw the best sunrise from that point. It was a big orange ball of fire. I was alone on a big boulder with my camera and no one to disturb me. Santosh parked his autorickshaw and came carrying my bag. He insisted to click a couple of my photos with the orange sun in the background, 'Memories hona maangta naa madam!' I had to oblige.

Then we went back to the hotel for breakfast. The second leg of the day began with Santosh taking me around to see more monuments and ruins. Since it was a Saturday there were a lot of students, from the nearby areas, who were also out exploring the Hampi ruins with their teachers. Most of these kids made me feel like a celebrity. They would start with a shy smile and a wave. Then they would proceed to say, ‘Hi!’ When I responded with a smile and equal enthusiasm, they practiced their English with me. One asked, ‘What is your name?’; one more asked ‘what is your father name?’; another wanted to know, ‘Where you come from?’  When I gave them answers, they enthusiastically shook my hand. One asked to pull my cheek. I saw so much love in the eyes of those children. It was a wonderful experience and worth travelling alone. I figured that had I been with friends, the kids would not have approached me. Since I was alone, they found it easier to talk to me, request me to click their photographs and share their joy of being able to speak in English.

I think celebrating five days on the road like a celebrity was the best way to celebrate.

There was also a cherry on top! I saw a Kannada film shoot in progress at a temple today. I was told that the film being shot was titled Charlie. And the hero was a Kannada superstar. So now I am looking forward to watching the film when it releases.

In other news, my solo vacation is about to end. Tomorrow is my last day in Hampi and then I’ll take a bus to Goa. My friends will be joining soon enough. 

To unlikely friendships and spectacular experiences

Difficulty is a state of mind. Or so I would like to believe. So far on this trip things have fortunately been easy for me. Except for two things: 1. It seems I am not meant to open the seals of mineral water bottles. The task seems Herculean, even though I must have opened at least 10 bottles till now in the last five days. 2. Explaining to people what I do for a living. I tell them I am an editor. They look at me quizzically. I start to elaborate and tell them about textbooks, and what role I play in my office and they seem to lose interest.

Coming to things that are falling into place. I was welcomed in Hospet with the visual of colourful plastic pots. Now, you need to know that colourful plastic pots hold a very special place in my heart. I had seen such pots for the first time in Madurai in 2006 when I had gone on the adventure of my life—a documentary shoot. For me the sight of colourful plastic pots was a sign that things on this leg of the trip were going to be spectacular.

Fortunately, my faith in signs continues. I had a fantastic time in Hampi today. I visited the Vittal Temple, saw the stone chariot, and requested a stranger to play music from the pillars of the temple and heard music. This day had wonderful written all over it. The highlight was the boat ride on the Tungabhadra River. Seated in the middle of the round boat, chatting with the boatman, who knew little English, little Hindi, and a lot of Kannada. The only problem was I know no Kannada. But that did not stop either of us from talking. The best point of the boat ride was going under a rock. The kurta wet with all the water that had seeped into the boat, I got out of the boat smiling like I had won an Oscar.

Had a generous helping of sugar cane juice. The vendor told me that the sugar cane was from his farm. Somehow this information added to the taste of the juice. I also had the small sized bananas. I have never had such tasty bananas ever. Lunch at the Mango Tree lived up to all the praise I read about it online. For someone who generally thinks chewing is a waste of time, I am enjoying my meals in Hampi.

I saw several ruins, a whole city that once used to be. Most of these structures are still standing tall. Makes one wonder why don’t the architects of the present times study these old structures and incorporate some of their brilliance in what they design and build today. Even in regions where temperatures rise to as high as 40 degrees Celsius, the chambers where the kings and queens were to rest remain cool without any air conditioning. If only such techniques of building are incorporated in today’s times we would be successful in battling global warming.

And yes, I think about serious issues even when I am on a holiday.

Coming back to my trip and its awesomeness. I climbed steps, jumped from heights I would usually shy away from, and also hummed to myself. Spoke to strangers in Hindi, English, and Marathi. Shared a few laughs, some wisdom, and lots of smiles. Also, answered questions about travelling alone.

In the morning, I waited for Sharat for more than an hour and called him thrice. When he did not answer my calls, I got impatient and angry. So I hired another autowala. Santosh took to me around the city in his auto today. The name Gajendra is imprinted on the back of his auto. This was also a sign. This name reminded me of my friend ‘Titu, the Tiger’ (I am friends with a bunch of people with really interesting names). The song, ‘Look beautiful, Gajendra Rana is coming’ sprang to mind. I missed Titu and Sangy, and also felt comforted in the knowledge that they were with me as long as I was in the auto.

Santosh kept repeating, ‘Madam, aapko kush hua na mere saath ghoom ke.’ Since morning, he asked me several times and several times I smiled politely and said yes. But when he insisted that I go to the sunset point today itself and enthusiastically climbed with me all the way to the hilltop. Of course, he helped me a lot during the climb. He also clicked pictures of me when I requested. And then the big ball of red dipped into nothingness and I was glad to be sitting there. Alone, yet with an unlikely friend—Santosh. Santosh spoke to me about his family, places he had visited, and why he enjoys driving his auto in Hampi. He also asked me what I did. The fact that he thought I was a college student earned him brownie points.

He played the pillars for me at the sunset point. It was magical to say the least. And he has promised to take me to sunrise point early tomorrow morning. He says that will be even more spectacular. And I believe him.

And as per my friend Santosh’s instructions, I must go to bed early today.

Trust is the operative word

When you are travelling, you need to trust. You need to trust fellow passengers, who have seen you working on your laptop, take money out of your wallet, put the wallet and the laptop securely back in your bag before you go to the washroom. Then before leaving the compartment, you smile and request the strangers to keep your luggage safe. You trust. Blindly.

You hire an autorickshaw. Knowing very well that the autorickshaw driver is charging you almost double the fare. Then you trust him. Trust him to not only take you to your destination but also drive safely. You smile at him, ask him his name and the next thing you know he is telling you how not to get duped, where to go, and how to commute.

Trust is the operative word. Once you begin to trust, suddenly the world seems nicer. Sadly, for me at least, trusting people comes easy only when I am travelling. Maybe this is the ‘one thing’ I’ll take back home (apart from the presents I am to carry if I want to lead a happy life).

I left Goa this morning. Carrying my bags to the station from the resthouse early morning was taxing for my shoulders but a major ego boost for my soul. Being independent is a high. And though I have never tried any other forms of getting a high, I still can bet my last cent that nothing can beat the high of being independent.

I was very excited about the train ride today. I had read online and heard from Jaspinder that this leg of the journey was magical. Fortunately, it was everything I expected and then some more. My co-passengers today were a German couple. A few seconds before the train was going to reach the Dhoodhsagar Falls the Ticket Checker came rushing through the compartment telling all of us to look outside the window and be ready with our cameras. I explained to the German couple why the Indians on board and especially the Ticket Checker was so excited about the falls. Even though they told me that they had never seen a Bollywood film, I explained to then that these falls have gained a special importance in our lives since they were a location in a very important scene in SRK starrer Chennai Express. So crossing the same place where SRK had been during the shooting of the movie was a total fan-girl moment for me.

However, I must admit that travelling solo is not all fun. You see couples in love, families mostly shouting at each other but surely in love to travel together, and then you see something incredibly beautiful and have no one to turn to, to share the moment. In the last five days I have shared a lot of moments and conversations with strangers. And while the novelty of that experience is something that I cherish, there were several moments when I missed having someone next to me, someone I knew. But I knew what I was stepping into when I packed my bags and left the cold grey skies of Delhi.

Once in Hospet, all the autowalas went rushing to the foreign tourists. I felt neglected and decided I would go to Hampi with the first autowala who asks me, and that too without bargaining. And so Sharat earned not only my respect for ignoring the foreigners but also awesome business from me. He will be taking me around the ruins of Hampi tomorrow as well. But this time I will bargain.

I decided to take it a bit slow today and just vegetated in front of the TV throughout the evening. More about the hotel, the staff and of course Hampi tomorrow.

Touristy tourist is me

As I was getting ready this morning I had an epiphany. I wanted to do a solo trip not because I find it difficult to keep pace with my friends. It is the other way round. I sense that my friends, god bless them, sometimes have to be on a schedule just so that I don’t raise hell. My idea of a vacation is exhaustion and doing all possible ‘touristy’ things. I loved the movie Don starring SRK because the Don was not caught in this one. He was the hero as the title suggested and he won the battle of wits, style, and well my heart :D

Similarly, when I am visiting a place, I am a tourist and like to behave like one. I love going on tourist buses, listening to guides, meeting fellow travellers, and buying the most obvious souvenirs. So making most of being alone without anybody telling me they want to do just the ‘off the beaten track’ stuff, I did everything touristy today. I got a seat on a tourist bus to see what South Goa had in store for me.

Our tourist guide for the day was Victor Rodricks. He was funny but also very strict. Thanks to the fear he instilled in us no one, among the 25 odd passengers, delayed the tour at any of the seven spots we covered today.

We began the day at the Big Foot museum at Loutolim village. Big foot reminded me of Castle and his obsession with Big Foot. That was enough to make me happy. It is an interestingly done place with audio guides in front of every installation. However, my being a solo traveller garnered more interest than the description of the lifestyle of the native people of Goa among the fellow travellers.

Lops or Loofah (remember I spoke about her yesterday) wanted me to find a guy and fall in love during this trip. However, so far I have just met uncles and aunties who become extremely protective of me and take me under their wings. Today, my foster parents were a cute senior citizen couple from Nagpur. They had taken part in a swimming competition in Malvan and had decided to visit Goa as well. While walking on the beach, aunty told me that she had won the 3-kilometer beach swim competition (veterans) the day before. Now, this is what I call cool grandparents.

They were very curious to know what prompted me to travel alone. And I was pleasantly surprised that they were not judgmental at all. In fact they were proud of me. Imagine, people I had not even met yesterday were proud of me today.

I got special treatment through out the day. The guides ensured that I was given extra information. Maybe because I had my DSLR around my neck and was actually looking at things rather than just cracking silly jokes. Even at the restaurant where we stopped for lunch, I was ushered into the AC room (with special charges of course) and asked several times what I would like. Recommendations flew from all sides, Victor gave his two cents, so did the waiter, the manager, and the cleaner. I felt like a celebrity and of course I loved every minute of it.

I spent most part of the bus ride listening to my music. I am sure I must have been humming along but no one dared to stop me. One more reason to go solo. Hehehehe!

Fun anecdote: A Marathi uncle trolled a pujari at the Shanta Durga temple. The pujari was busy performing the daily rituals and unfortunately none of the devotees could see the idol and only the pujari’s dhoti-clad butt was visible. Uncle waited, and I suspect that he counted upto 5 (Mississippily), for a few seconds and then started to shout at the top of his voice asking the pujari to move. You had to be there. It was extremely funny. I missed SKT and Sangy then. We would have laughed so hard.

The hour at Colva beach at the end of the tour was magical. Just standing at the beach waiting for the first wave to hit the soles of my feet was an experience I would love to relive again and again. At that moment, whatever little inhibition I had, left me. I laughed out loud. I would recommend this therapy to everyone.

I leave Goa tomorrow. Another journey awaits.

But I leave with a promise to be back. I’ll be back before the year ends with one of my best friends—SKT :D And Goa will be explored anew, in a non-tourist way maybe, with many more adventures added to the list.

Also, also, a poem popped into my head standing on the beach:

I picked three sea shells,
One for you,
One for me,
And one for the love I have for the sea

Storyteller

I am a storyteller. I collect stories. Sometimes I am a listener, sometimes the teller and more often than not I star as the protagonist.



My friend SKT recently said emphatically that I needed to lead a cool life so that I would have cool stories to tell my grandchildren. Now all the risks that I take in life, cool things I do are being done for a greater cause—to ensure that my grandchildren will have a cool grandmother. Considering that I am not even married and also have no children, the idea of grandchildren seems like way into the future. However, since taking a stand for a cause is the in thing, I have decided to up my game and collect more interesting stories. Primarily, by leading a more interesting life.



So the first step in this direction was taken a couple of months ago (long before SKT passed her diktat). I applied for leaves, planned a just-me holiday to a destination where people believe going without your friends is a sin. Enough eyebrows were raised when I announced to my family, friends and colleagues that I was heading to Goa all alone. My first solo-trip would be taking me to the west of the country, away from the Delhi chills. Fortunately, a few close friends were supportive. One in particular, let’s call her Jaspinder because she loves this name, was spectacular. She travelled through the roads of Goa to Hampi and then to Gokarna during monsoons (and I like to believe the last part of this sentence) just so that I could make my winter better.



With an itinerary readymade all I had to do was keep my spirits up, pack my bags, and count days to the first day of my vacation. I want the esteemed people reading this blog post to note that Lops or Loofah needs to be given a medal for putting up with my whining as time decided to move at a snail’s pace, especially during the last two weeks before I hit the road.



I think 300-odd words are enough of a preamble and I should start by telling you the details of my trip. This year was about overcoming fears for me. One of the nastiest voices that lives in my head asked me earlier this year, ‘Are you afraid to spend money?’ So, I promptly bought myself a fruity gadget. Then again, it rose its wild head and asked, ‘Are you scared of being alone? Do you like yourself enough?’ And I decided (not in this order) to pack my bags, plan for two months, and spend some time with myself. Just me. Away from everyone I know; love most of the time; hate almost everyday.



So now those of you who were wondering who does that and were polite enough to say it to me have an answer. I do it. For reasons best known to me and thanks to this blog post to the 10 other people who might read it because their names appear in distorted forms. Just to ensure that I spend as long as possible with myself by spending as little money as I could, I pleaded my mom to use one of her passes to book my tickets in a train that takes 40 hours to reach Goa from Delhi. The journey was interesting to say the least. The 60-year-old gentleman sitting in the seat opposite mine was a talkative one. And who better than me to pass that judgment. Fortunately, that was not his only talent. He was a names-dropper as well. Apparently, his super power is to write letters to world leaders, advising them on policy decisions. He went into details about these letters and then about how all the events were occurring in this world to ensure that he rule it soon. He was entertaining for most part. The only time I felt a little troubled was when he interrupted my movie watching by telling me, ‘movie toh beta aap baad mein bhi dekh lo ge. Mujhse baat baad mein nahi kar paaoge.’ By the way, I was watching the Lord of the Rings (trilogy) for the first time ever.



I survived the 40-hour journey without any incident. Uncle snored a lot and then said with full filmy emotion the next morning, ‘neend nahi hui bilkul bhi.’ Apart from that it was all good.



I reached the Madgaon railway station just a few minutes before 6 a.m. The rest house where I am staying, again thanks to my mom’s relentless lobbying, is less than a kilometer walk from the railway station. You would think there is nothing adventurous or interesting about a kilometer long walk. But for a girl, travelling alone, from Delhi, walking in the dark with a suitcase and a bag-pack full of clothes, shoes and fruity gadgets, the walk before the sun had woken up is a BIG deal. You would be happy to know I reached safely and was welcomed with warm smiles which tried to cover the surprise in their eyes to see a solo traveller earnestly.



A quick check-in, a hot bath later I was on the road. A stranger advised me not to travel alone while I waited for a bus at the bus-stop. After losing my patience, not with the stranger but because of the waiting, I decided to hire an autorickshaw for a day. The driver, Jeetendra (I tell you the powers that be also want my life to have a constant filmy element), took me on an 8-hour tour of South Goa. He dropped me off at Fort Aguada. Waited patiently as I came back sweating after exploring the ruins in the scorching sun. Then he convinced me to take the Dolphin spotting cruise (not that I needed too much convincing, it was on my list!). I think he felt a lot of pity for me. He must have thought, ‘Poor girl, has no friends and family also doesn’t seem to love her. I must join her on the boat.’ And there he was on the boat, asking me if I wanted my photograph clicked. The boat was also ferrying a Sikh family. They had interesting questions to ask. After spotting the white, super-sleek ship owned by Vijay Mallaya, the patriarch of the family wanted to know if, Mallaya also took savaaris (passengers) to see dolphins. The son a few minutes later asked of the boat owner if the Indian Navy ship would be available for hire. Now, these statements are funny, because we were at the time sitting in a motorized boat, which did not even have a solid roof. It was covered with a blue net, which hardly managed to save our skins from the sun.



Jeetendra, who for the day was my best friend, left me in peace at Britto’s as I stuffed my face with pieces of the delicious cinnamon apple cheesecake, recommended by Sangy. I booked a beach bed for an hour and just lay listening to the sound of the waves, a young couple coochie-cooing in the adjacent bed, and a loud woman discussing each and every dish on the Britto’s menu sitting on the bed on the other side. To sum it up, I had 5 minutes of quiet and 55 minutes of entertainment.



Jeetendra (I love to say his name again and again), then took upon himself to ensure that I checked one more item on my list. The ‘Facebook friend of original Mika’ also known as Bhishambar, had decreed that I go to Chhapora Fort—the REAL Dil Chahta Hai fort. So I pestered Jeetendra. He said even he had never been to the fort so this was as good a time as any and decided to accompany me to the ruins. The climb to the fort is as close to Roadies as I’ll ever be. One has to walk through slippery small stones covering a steep slope. Fun walk that was. Not once did I abuse the ‘Facebook friend of original Mika’. Cursed her, maybe. But to be fair, the climb was worth the view. Jeetendra’s astute observations ensured that I laughed a lot.

This was the first day of my trip. I am not bored of myself, yet.

Tomorrow I take the bus to explore South Goa.