THE FINAL MOMENT

A thought crossed my mind today. If, you were lying on your deathbed and before closing your eyes, you could see just one image of the past in your mind, what would that be? Would it be your most depressed moment? Happiest? An image of your family or friends? Something, more like, out of an old sepia-tinted photograph?

I made several attempts to visualise the scenario and seek the answer. To those who ask if this is really necessary, all I can say is perhaps, the exercise is a chance to prepare myself for the inevitable, whenever that maybe.

While questions linger, and as I ponder over them, I'm drawn to the word - Happiest. Prejudice? Possibly. I can't say, at this point in time, if this state of mind has either come and gone or yet to, in my life. If it is the former, then did I ever realise it? Strange, being aware makes you happier than (that moment itself, called) happiest! If it has not come my way, then would I recognise it when it does?

And what is this happiness? Such a relative-relative term. Like all other emotions. Such an unquantifiable and intangible entity. And happiest? How can you possibly measure happiest-ness? Recollect all those moments when you clutched your tummy, rolled on the floor, got your intestines knotted, experienced those tingly sensations? And well, ask yourself now, do you remember what made you behave so animatedly? Else the way you felt while sitting by the side of the window, at night, watching the purple hues of the sky... or the silent drizzle highlighted by a row of sodium vapour lamps? Bliss? There could be a gazillion ways to feel happy. In my opinion, to "realise" is, perhaps, the greatest. You could have a mental picture associated with it. But how many realisations in a lifetime and which one would rein supreme? And the corresponding image? This brings me back to my question.

Worse (or better!), am asking myself - Do you have to even think of such a moment? It may not exist after all. You could just pass away in your sleep and not know anything! Saves you from all the trouble, eh? Lol!

WE COULD ALWAYS BEGIN AGAIN...

Since morning, I've been thinking of my lecturer, Hema, in college where I pursued my under-graduation. She would teach us Mathematics - orally! Writing on the blackboard, according to her, was one big waste of time! And today, if she ever saw me ambling about - and strolling through my life - those would probably be the most blasphemous things ever. I can almost hear her say, "Wasting time like this? Wasting life like this? You can do something with your life, no?"

Chuckle!

Until my under-grad days, there was something or the other to keep me occupied. Studies, Science forum, Science courses, NIAS lectures... amazing! Those were my antioxidants preventing my brain from rusting away. I needed those doses, everyday. My gang of five would sit in the basketball court and discuss a million things under the sun. Without inhibitions. I matured in my thoughts. I grew more confident and aware of myself and things around me.

But, since then, I have not developed intellectually. Stunted and stagnated. People (which includes me) gather to speak about other people. People gather to speak about jobs in jeopardy. People gather to speak about themselves and their problems. No informative lectures. And discussions that mostly end up being making-a-jackass-of-you sessions (barring the amazing conversations with my roomie, Jags, PR, RS...).

But what stopped me from learning? I was run-over by a very silly person inside me who said, "You don't have to do anything with your life. Life has no purpose. Just idle away." I've been stuck with this pseudo-philosophy in my head and watching myself rotting away and being devoured by scavengers (read, depression). I've stopped learning, reading, writing, speaking, understanding. Tied down by a creeper called indifference. Watching a moss, called fear, growing layer by layer.

One thing remains intact from that day to this - my restlessness! A bliss, indeed!

I've been reading this book, Pale Blue Dot, for a pretty long time now. It's by Carl Sagan, also the author of Contact and Cosmos. Started with the e-book version of it last year but couldn't get beyond ten pages. I'm to be blamed, totally. Reasons? You just read them all.

But these days, I'm glued to the book. Lapping up every single word of it. Feeling every little idea it contains. Exhilarating! It's like knowledge dripping down on me. Gently. And this sentence struck me hard - "We could always begin again." What does one need to start life afresh? A passion? A direction? Some support? Lots of enthusiasm?

I've just got to keep this momentum rolling. I need to explore and introspect. May be I can hear Science calling out to me again. The last piece in the puzzle of my life, perhaps?

Chuckle!

UTTARAKHAND - A (C)HILLY PARADISE - PART II - NAUKUCHIATAL

HALCYON NAUKUCHIATAL

A night ride by car might not be the wisest thing to do, in the mountainous terrains of Uttaranchal, but we didn't have much choice. We had to reach Naukuchiatal the same night and to keep us going was our cabbie - with 14 years experience behind him - and his tales of nights and leopards, trees and snowfalls. During this one hour journey from Kathgodam, we passed through the HMT Factory, caught a fleeting glimpse of Bhimtal, Sattal and Nainital by night, before zig-zagging our way to the top.



At half past midnight we were at Naukuchiatal. The temperature was well below 10 degrees Celsius when we reached The Lake Resort. Our camera addiction refused to fade away and we snapped a few more of our shelter for the next two nights.





With darkness holding Naukuchiatal (Nau-k(u)-chiya-taal) captive, we retired to our rooms, hoping morning would unfold to us, weary travelers, the magnificent nine-cornered lake.

It is believed that whoever sees all the nine corners at a single glance would attain Nirvana. But I'll tell you what, just a glance of the lake guarantees Nirvana.







The placid waters of the lake are enticing. The stillness grows through the day, creating a serene gargantuan mirror.



According to our cabbie, the lake's periphery runs for about four kilometres and makes for a great early morning walk. We went half-way and discovered several amazing faces of the lake.







October and March are the peak seasons and see a lot of tourists flocking to this paradise. What greeted us in December were these empty boats and a few, very few, birds!







Naukuchiatal also has its own paragliding base at Pandegaon for adventure sports enthusiasts. "But do so at your own risk madam." One statement from the cabbie and we decided to give it a skip! (Shame on us :D)

Next on our list was an NGO - Action for Environment and Preservation of Art & Nature (AEPAN) - that sells beautiful Kumaoni paintings. Unfamiliar with Kumaoni art, we didn't know what to expect when we went in. All we needed to do was to set our eyes on the lines set in red and blue cloths and follow the pattern. Mesmerising. We immersed ourselves in uniquely framed paintings of Gods and Goddesses, diyas, postcards, dolls, mufflers, shawls and lots more. These souvenirs are light to carry and lighter on your wallet.







We stopped briefly at the Hanuman and Vaishno Devi Temples, built beside each other. At about 50 feet, the Hanuman idol is indeed intimidating.



Tulsi Das' Hanuman Chaleesa wafted through the twilight air, rendered beautifully by the temple poojari and a couple of kids.



The entrance to the Vaishno Devi temple is through a gufa or cave (artificial one though). The cave was extremely dark with zero visibility. The temple also houses a Ram mandir and Radha-Krishna mandir.





The lake beckoned us again in the evening. But the cold made us retreat indoors.



We had covered lots more that day of the Lake District. We had been to the pristine Sattal and the mighty Bhimtal. All this with a massive neck pain!

By morning it was time to say goodbye to the nine-cornered lake and the beautiful Lake Resort. Hotel rating and other personal experiences in the next post. (That would be a short one, I promise!)

UTTARAKHAND - A (C)HILLY PARADISE - PART I - DELHI TO KATHGODAM

DANCE OF THE STARS

Everything was in place. Tickets - booked. Food and lodging - checked. Thermals - packed. Accessories - stuffed. Three cameras - loaded. Spirits - charged. After all, it is not everyday that you'd plan a trip to Uttaranchal from a city down South!

Our first halt was Delhi. First week of December and chilly winds had not taken over India's capital city yet. Wide roads and countless flyovers greeted us. So did Delhi's chaotic traffic. Our train the next day was to Kathgodam (Kaat-go-daam), a town in the Nainital District of Uttarakhand. Trains do not ply beyond this point and one needs to travel by road to popular tourist destinations like Nainital, Bhimtal, Almora, among others.

The train chugged along and we had seven hours to spend.



As the journey progressed, the air grew nippy and windows were shuttered. Monkey-caps, shawls, jerkins and gloves found their rightful place. Despite our clumsy attire, we managed to have some fun with the cam. Here are a couple of photos, mostly night shots, of stars, planets and town lights, all this while the train was in motion! The dance of the stars - captured!





Interestingly, a couple of them assumed the shape of numbers!





Our train, Uttarkranthi Sampark Express, was running late by an hour. By the time it reached Kathgodam at 23:30 hours, besides us, there were not more than five people in the compartment. Creepy! Later on, our cabbie would tell us that not many people prefer this train. The sleeper, Ranikhet Express, brought in more tourists to Uttaranchal from Delhi.

With the cold numbing our bodies, we alighted from the train. The station was dark and we followed the rest of the herd to the exit where taxi-wallahs were waiting for prospective clients. It took our cab's hot-air blower to flush out the numbness off our bodies and to bring us back to our senses. After months of planning, finally, we were in Uttaranchal to catch a glimpse of the mighty Himalayas!

And we were not yet done for the day. A whole hour lay between us and Naukuchiatal...

IN MY HEAD

I am tired.
My eyes - droopy.
Like my limp mind.
I scribble a story.
In my head.
Sentences contrived.
Meanings lost.
Words - Cacophony - Dissonance.
All mere synonyms.
My feelings - yellow.
Jaundiced, I lisp.
Befuddled with phlegm.
Crippled to reason.
Battling shadows within.
A pleasure so vacuous.
A flight so faithless.
Subsist - I don't.
For numeral, I am not.
No word or story.
Just weary.
Very weary.
In my head.

P.S. -- As usual, just an outburst. Written for not even me to comprehend. Prospective employer (wherever you are), please ignore this post :) Thank you.

WEAVING AN EXTRAORDINARY TALE

DISCLAIMER: The author of this article is not an Arachnologist, or for that matter has no idea what spiders are (except that they are eight-legged creatures), what they are made of, where they all come from, etc. The author hates them, but loves capturing them on cam. She has not, in the process, hurt them, killed them or eaten them.



The Dryad silently embraces them into her bosom. She listens to their extraordinary tale, spun in delight. She pleads for more and watches them grow. Life moves on but their legacy retains its flavour in the coffee estate, where the following photographs were taken in a bid to capture the saga woven by the spiders.

It had rained heavily the previous night. Spider webs, I thought, could never have withstood the downpour. A trek down the coffee plantation (in Karnataka), taught me a beautiful lesson - Life can always have a fresh new beginning.



Millions of these creatures had begun their journey all over again. A few even went one step further!





And you cannot miss this huge species, so regal in its black and gold outfit. It would be a while before you continue the trek.



The plantation is full of this species. And most certainly it is not dangerous for the workers show no fear as they wade through its webs everyday.



The other fascinating species can be found on trees or dangling in the air. In fact, it requires a pair of sharp eyes to spot this one, beautifully blended with the bark of a tree. While it would take me some time to get this species identified, here are a few pictures taken right outside the estate's drying ground.





For about two years in Chennai, spiders and I lived under the same roof and shared the same bed. A few, though, felt my expensive Reebok shoe a more cozy option to spend their days.

My warden was quite anxious to get rid of the domestic spiders and she did triumph. My roommate and I, however, decided to give this Mrs.Wiry a chance to lay eggs.



I left my hostel soon after and I do not know what became of them. And if you are asking me, if I've ever been bitten by one, the answer is yes! A 1.5 cm long spider pricked my shoulder to declare its presence on my body. And no, I did not transform into a spider-woman with green eyes the next day!

"ORANGE MOON? DON'T KID!"

A couple of days back, I watched a programme on Animal Planet called MOONPOWER, on creatures using our natural satellite as a beacon to hunt, mate and migrate. Fantastic show, after which my stream of consciousness led me to dwell a bit on moon exploration by humans, rites and rituals as per our scriptures, poetry and more, until a fact hit me hard - it has been a while, a long while, since I saw the orange blob!

When I was four years old, for the first time, I saw a bright orange hue in the sky, and mistook the moon for the setting sun! Ever since I've been fascinated.

Over the last two years, on every visit to Bangalore, I'd observe an apparent elevation in the "horizon" caused by high-rise buildings. This is in fact a rather mild way of putting across the point that even a minute speck of the actual horizon is no longer visible and in the process, the orange blob has disappeared too, behind those skyscrappers. And for children, supper would have to wait an extra few minutes, before they crane their necks heavenwards to say "MOOOOON!" Sadly, my own house has contributed to this phenomenon.

I'm not going overboard here, but my kids might just ridicule my "imagination" if I ever told them of the red-orange moon.

There are of course two ways to prove its existence. One, chalk out a controlled city/town expansion and development programme. And as for the second, continue polluting the atmosphere at just this current rate, only thing - our children may not be alive to see the orange moon.

Couple of blogger awards have come my way! :) Presented to me by my cousin Aaarti! Thankies, gurl!! How about a moonlight dinner sometime? :)



Remember this pic? We shot the moon precariously through a four square centimetre grid! :D