Chisels

Where M.Tech students teach B.Tech, Everyday is 'Teacher's Day'

2012-02-15T13:27:00.004+05:30

While the Nation celebrates Teacher’s day on 5th September, Government College of Engineering, Amravati (GCEA), celebrates it every day!

Here, students of M.Tech (Master of Technology) take classes - both theory and practical - of B.Tech students. "Sometimes 4 out of 5 theory subjects in a semester are taught by these M.Tech students, while all the practicals are conducted by them," told a 2nd year student on the condition of Anonymity. "We only have one 'Regular faculty' - our HoD (Head of the Department) - who hardly teaches," he added. "A girl who just passed out (from B.Tech) last year is now teaching us!" tells a second year student, with a smirk.

Every M.Tech student who has qualified GATE (Graduate Aptitude Test in Engineering) has to do 'Teaching Assistantship' (TA). They devote 8 hours per week in classroom teaching and/or laboratory assignments for which they get a stipend of Rs. 8,000/month. However, In the name of 'Classroom teaching' they are being forced to teach theory subjects for an entire semester at the cost of B.tech students' career.

'Classroom Teaching' is meant to provide some teaching experience to the students," said Dr Rita Goyal, Senior Consultant at National Project Implementation unit (NPIU). NPIU implements Technician Education Projects of the government assisted by World Bank. TEQIP is one such project which talks about this Assistantship. She said that neither an individual nor many such M.Tech students collectively, be forced to teach theory subjects to B.Tech students. The college must have faculty with appropriate qualifications.

Not all M.tech students at GCEA take theory subjects but there are no criteria behind making this choice. "It's based on our discretion" was the reply of Mr Chatur, HoD of Computer Science and Engineering (CSE).

Department of Technical Education (DTE) under which the institute comes, clearly mentions on its website that one has to be at least M.E/M. Tech with a 1st class in either Bachelors or Masters degree to be an Assistant Professor on contract. But Mr. Chature confessed that they had teachers on contract in the past who were just B.tech!

While these 'Student-Teachers' can't say anything, B. Tech students have chosen not to. "We have learnt not to ask questions because their own concepts aren't clear, which they themselves confess," shrugged a B.Tech student. But the glum mood in the hostel room was lightened up when his friend recounted - "often they forget what they had mugged up and then they stare at the walls."

Also, the college enjoys academic autonomy, which means papers are set and evaluated within the college. Hence the students prefer remaining quiet and keeping teachers happy rather than jeopardising their results by raising this issue.

But the ground reality is - the college is suffering from acute shortage of teachers. The CSE department has only 7 teachers while the requirement is of 15. Only the HoD is a regular faculty while rest are on contract. Rs 24,000 is what a contract-faculty gets. Moreover, the recruitments are done by Maharashtra Public Service commission (MPSC). "The college has noting in its own hand," whines Prof. D. J. Chaudahri, Principal of GCE.

However, there is certainly one thing in college's hand - the future of 240 odd B. Tech students - with which it's playing.

Anna's Warriors

2011-09-01T02:19:00.003+05:30

There’s no denying the fact that it’s the inspirational leadership of Anna Hazare and tactical insight of his team that coerced the parliament to agree to the three contentious issues of Jan Lokpal bill ‘in principle’. However, we can’t credit less the contribution of millions of ‘foot soldiers’ across the country who took to the streets in support of this 74 year old Gandhian and wrote history in the process.
At Ramlila grounds, I interviewed a lot of people and every story had its own flavour but some stories simply stood out.

The beauty of this movement was that to be Anna’s warrior, strength of your soul took precedence over strength of your body which was clearly demonstrated by Mr Manoj Dawar, an entrepreneur who owns a Gym and a Salon in Delhi. He has spent half of his life on a wheel chair, thanks to a Spinal Cord injury in an accident 22 years back but that didn’t stop him from coming to Ramlila Grounds and articulating his opinion. “Why is the govt. shying away from an open debate? Let intellectuals and experts discuss on the bill and if Jan Lokpal provides the solution to the rampant corruption, why not?” he suggested.

Meet Chaand Singh, Driver with a company that works under contract with MCD. His job was to pick the huge dustbins overflowing with litter installed throughout the ground in his truck and replace them with fresh ones. I asked him how different he finds his work at Ramlila Grounds compared to other days. He responded, “yeh to Janseva hai” (this is public service). When I inquired if it’s not “janseva” other days, he quipped, “aur din to hum pi ke pade rahte hain” (on other days, we just Drink and while away our time)! That was one of the most honest acknowledgements I had ever heard. He further added that “generally, we call it a day after 6-7 rounds but today, we are working since morning, must have picked 15-20 dustbins and it’s still going on”. It was 3PM already!

Chaand Singh’s helper, Raju, told me that he and his colleagues live in a house provided by the company, if that can be called a “house”. It has no bedding, no electricity, no drinking water and no washroom facility! “It’s like pigs living in a shed”, Chaand Singh intervened with an analogy. “We have to buy pouches of water to drink. We hardly save anything and to add insult to injury, company doesn’t pay us our legitimate wages and we don't get any receipt of our Provident Fund deductions”. I felt that if anyone needs Janlokpal badly, it’s these guys.

Now let’s meet Mrs Tarika Ekka, mother of two from Chattisgarh who took a week off from her work and family responsibilities to support Anna. Her family was under the impression that she was heading to Jabalpur till she reached New Delhi along with her brother and informed them. “They wouldn’t have let me come otherwise” she clarified. A victim of corruption herself in Police dept., Administration and judiciary, she had jotted down her thoughts in a letter addressed to Anna Hazare.

Anna didn’t only wake up the Indians but he captured the imagination of people around the world. One such couple was Stef Van Hulst and Pebby Werring from Holland who were holidaying in Nepal when they saw the news about Anna’s protest. Without further ado, they flew down to Ramlila grounds to show their support to Anna and witness this historic moment. In their peculiar accent they said, “This movement is very important for the history of India”. They left the ground in the evening while waving to Anna to fly back to Kathmandu.

Sachin Gupta(third from left) with his’water’ team at Ramlila grounds.

Photo courtesy: Kapil Syal

If there was one thing that was most sought after at Ramlila grounds, after Anna Hazare, it was water. And to provide it to hundreds of thousands of people coming there every hour was a daunting task in itself. Sachin Gupta, a businessman, took up that challenge and executed it with finesse. He and his team of volunteers built everything from scratch including a warehouse and distribution counters. “Getting clearances from the police to let the supply vans enter every time is very frustrating” he said. Sachin, who has also worked in US as a software engineer, said,“ I have met a lot of influential people like Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Hillary Clinton etc. but if there’s one person to whom I can give my Soul, that’s Anna”.

While Anna was fasting, his supporters certainly needed to keep their energy levels high. Mr Tikayam Chauhan and many others like him were ensuring this with their Free Food Stalls which they very appropriately named as “Anna Ki Rasoi” (Anna’s Kitchen). The food was simple yet delicious and their service with a smile made it tastier. When Asked till what time they serve the food, “as long as the people come”, was his response. But the high point of the conversation came when I asked who was sponsoring the food; he unequivocally said – “ANNA” – and refused to mention the name of his trust/NGO. That was a sweet surprise in this publicity hungry world. May be it was “Anna Effect”.

(from left) Kanishka cheers while Simran and Iqra offers Anna Coconut water & Honey.

Image Courtesy- AP photo/Rajesh Kumar Singh

Among all these grown ups, there was this little soldier of Anna who was second to none in her enthusiasm. What set her apart was her charismatic smile and indefatigable spirit. Seven year old kanishka is a class two student and was consistently present at the grounds along with her mother. She would wave the Tricolor for hours at a stretch while donning the “I am Anna” cap. Even Anna Hazare couldn’t resist himself from waving to her. She was one of the three little girls present on the stage who helped Anna to break his 13 day marathon fast on 28th August.

Janlokpal Zamin Par !

2011-07-02T02:43:00.002+05:30

We realized what ‘working on the ground’ really means when we went to the Villages of Faridabad district to create awareness about Jan Lokpal bill and rope in their support for Anna ji when he rekindle the ‘Satyagrah’ on 16th August.

It was the idea of Rajiv sir and Shriom and I was a late entrant (infact, a replacement! ). It was an impromptu trip, i.e., we didn’t have any idea of the villages we would be visiting; we just went with the flow. We used to ask on a divergence – “bhaisaab, is road pe kaun kaun se gaon padte hain”?

We covered a lot of villages which, in the first look didn’t look like villages at all. Some of the houses were palatial bunglows, giving tough competition to thier Sainik Farms counterparts. They might lose out only because of the abysmal condition of roads (if they existed at all) !

Wherever we could find a village, we used to stop our car and go door to door giving Jan Lokpal Bill pamphlets typed in hindi. from a central point we used to diverge out in different direction and meet up again after covering that road to the maximum possible extent. I used to open up with "ummed karta hoon ki aapne Anna Hazare ji ke baare main suna hoga". I wasn't wrong either; more than 97% of the people gave an affirmation! Morning hours were quite good for this aproach as people were availabe at home and open to intrusion!

In afternoon hours, the probability of finding homes with open doors and people moving around only kept on reducing. Therefore we switched on to a different approach. After distributing pamphlets to people available in the small marketplace of a particular village, we would head towards the Sarpanch's house. There are 50-50 chances that you will be able to meet the Sarpanch.

Rajiv ji's experience came handy while persuading the Sarpanch to help us convey the message of Janlokpal bill to his/her villagers. there were primarily three ways in which he/she can do it -

a) distrbute the pamphlets among his people.

b) show the CD explaining Lan Lokpal bill in the next panchayat meeting.

c) sit along with his people on a satyagrah in his village to show solidarity with Anna ji on 16th August.

Now, obviously this approach has it's own merits and demerits.

It's very fast and focussed and if we succeed to get the support of sarpanch, an entire village can be mobilised at a short notice. However, it's easier said than done. Most of the sarpanches are politically aligned and its difficult for them to go against the party line irrespective of their personal openion. Also, the Palatial houses of most of the sarpanches were a clear indication of their seriousness for a strong anticorruption law like Jan Lokpal bill.

But, being optimists, we considered this apprach to be worth a shot.

Some of the names of the villages where we met/telephoned the sarpanchs are Chandawali, Mujhedi, Dayalpur, Attali, Muchhar, Budhena, Mothuka & Nangal.

It was a fantastic experience where we directly interacted with the people for whom this bill is meant. The people also fealt good about the fact that someone has come to get their involvement.

I believe that this process can be improvised and replicated in other villages around Delhi or for that matter any group of Villages. Lets make small groups of volunteers who love meeting people and have no issues going to the outskirts of their cities. So if you got a Car or bike, just pick up some pamphlets and get going. If not, get hold of someone who has a car or bike! Lets educate the villagers about Jan Lokpal Bill and get thier support for Anna on 16th August. Because success is at the bottom of the pyramid !

The BABA BLACKOUT

2011-06-11T02:53:00.002+05:30

There comes a moment in every man's life, however big strategists he may be, when LOGIC is taken over by PANIC. And Baba Ramdev is not an exception to this rule. Lets see how the Baba Blackout unfolded.

It was all going great. Baba had announced a pan-India "Bhrastachar mitao satyagrah" ( Corruption Eradication Movement) on 4 June and the government was tottering under that threat. Even the president of USA never received the kind of red carpet welcome that Baba got at the Delhi Airport. 4 Cabinet ministers came down kneeling to dissuade him from going ahead with the Satyagrah. Government budged to almost all his demands even before the fast began. Such was the bonhomie that the govt and Baba mutually signed a document declaring that we have come to a common ground on most demands and govt will act on them within 2 days and what will begin on 4 June will be a 'tap' (meditation) and not an Anshan (Protest).

Unfortunately, Baba never made this understanding with the government public. It was only during Kapil Sibbal's press conference that people came to know that such a thing has already taken place and aspersions of the fast being "fixed" started surfacing.

If Baba Ramdev had made that news Public before Kapil Sibbal, the credibility of Baba and his entire Anti-corruption campaign would have only increased. But he preferred to conceal the deal in order to keep the crowd engaged! He could have said - "although govt has agreed to most of our demands but we better sit here and see if they actually deliver on that considering their abysmal track record". I doubt anyone would have left after this honest address.

Now lets fast forward to 5th June, 1:30 AM when the brutal crackdown of the satyagrah happened at Ramlila Grounds. Delhi Police, whose slogan is - For you, with you, Always! (although they never clarified who the "you" is!), stormed into the Pandal and mercilessly beat the people, including women, elderly and children, posing no threat whatsoever to anybody. It's a clear case of breach of 'Right to peaceful protest' given to us by the Constitution.

But what doesn't go down my gullet is - why did Baba run? and that too in woman's clothes. He shouldn't have. He should have stayed there like the Captain of the sinking Titanic irrespective of the consequences. And honestly speaking, the police wasn't there to kill him, they simply couldn't have done that; that's too big a risk to take by the state. At max, they could have arrested him and that would have only given a renewed vigour to his movement. A "Jail-bharo Aandolan" (Jail filling movement) could have spurred on his call and it's even beyond my imagination what form this movement would have taken then. BUTT...... and this one's bigger than J'Lo....here comes the ultimate BLACKOUT and instead of doing what everyone (including himself) expected from Ramdev, all he could do was flee only to be caught again.

One woman has lost her life in the process, several got seriously injured, while Baba is fighting against personal attacks and deteriorating health. The larger issue of corruption has been lost somewhere. However for BJP, this blackout has come with a silver lining, for it revived her political existence out of the blue! In one snap, the entire fight against corruption, hitherto a people's movement, has turned into a Political Mudslinging Festival.

A curious case of an FIR

2011-05-22T16:15:00.001+05:30

They say "Change is the only constant" but I guess "Police" is one of those resilient institutions which have braved this demon fervidly. They have such archaic and repressive ways of functioning that sometimes its hard to believe that Delhi Police has a Facebook presence! there are practices which look logical on the surface but the rot becomes visible when you dig deeper.
To file an FIR is an ordeal in itself. But the chain of events that inspired me to do so is worth a read as well.

In the movie "Tring de basanti" Ameer Khan said, "Cycle chalane ke do hi tarike hote hain. Ek, jo hoot kar raha hai, use karne do, bardasht karte jao. Ya fir, zimmedari uthao usko sabak sikhane ki". (there are only two ways to cycle. One, turn a deaf ear to hooting or else retaliate !). On that fateful day I chose the 'Ameer Khan' way which landed me into a scuffle!

Without going into its details and blow my own trumpet here, It's sufficient to say that I managed, with the help of the crowd, to get out of the altercation with only scratches on my knee and elbow despite their number. (Actually, they cheated me, initially they were 2 but they called 4 more guys when one of them got his shoulder dislocated! oops..did i blow my own trumpet here !! :P)

when I approached a Nursing Home for a dressing in the Salman Khan avatar (yeh, my t-shirt was martyred!), their first question was "how did it happen?". I couldn't lie and THEY REFUSED TO ATTEND TO ME WITHOUT AN FIR!
Now, why the hell do you need an FIR to do a simple dressing. What difference would that make? Fortunately, I had only bruises but what if, I was seriously hurt and bleeding profusely? would they still wait for an FIR and destine me to bleed to death??

I wasn't that hurt that I couldn't cycle and therefore I continued with the plan of night-out at my friend's place. but all along the way, i was in a dilemma - to lodge an FIR or NOT !
Pros: that is the right thing to do.
Cons: I didn't know anything about them (not even their car no.), the FIR would hardly result into anything substantial, there are higher chances of me getting implicated for causing physical damage to them !! ;)

You obviously know which thought won this duel and I found myself in the Police Station, Mayur Vihar. Their opening remarks: "this place (where the incident happened) doesn't come in our area. YOU HAVE TO REGISTER THE FIR IN THE POLICE STATION OF THAT AREA." It sounded to me like, " it seems like u have been quite lucky in getting out of the mess, u shd have given some opportunity to those guys to break something in your body as well. No issues, it's never too late. Do it now.".
Isn't is ridiculous and utterly insane to go into the same area where 6 mad dogs might be vying for your flesh which they missed out at first? Why can't they register my FIR and transfer it to the respective police station so that it can save the complainant from the hassles of finding the right police station and ending up in a hospital instead in the process!
But, I agreed to that as well, provided they give me an escort. They 'politely' refused this request citing the reason - "what will happen if a MURDER happens in our area?". I almost cracked up at that. Who says police can't be funny!!
However they agreed to escort me till the "Crime Scene" which helped me to trace my specs!

So my friends, in the end -
I couldn't file an FIR !
Got a hole drilled into my pocket by a Doctor who billed me 400 bucks for a simple dressing!! (That did hurt me!)
Got my specs back after 3 days from a 'Momo'walla who was given their custody by an 'Auto'walla !
(HAPPY ENDING !)

Sariska – The land of Tigers

2011-02-20T21:28:00.007+05:30

Scientists say that when you are travelling with the speed of light, the time slows down. But in my opinion, you don’t have to go that far, the time slows down when you Travel, irrespective of the speed! And this phenomenon of slowing down of time is directly proportional to the randomness of your trip, and the company of friends you are with!
It’s not a theoretical statement; it’s what I have practically experienced and if you are a traveler, I am sure you would agree.

The Plan was to visit Sariska Tiger Reserve in Alwar, Rajasthan. We were seven of which I knew only 2 in the beginning but that unfamiliarity vanished the moment “Magic Moments” was opened (I hope I need not elaborate on that!). The train dropped us at Alwar in the dead of the night. Athough initially we thought of spending the rest of the night at the station but unanimously trashed the idea and searched a budget hotel. All our plans of goofing around the entire night were scrapped the moment we stretched ourselves on the bed!

The next morning we headed straight to Sariska Tiger Reserve. It was around an hour long bus journey from Alwar bus stand. We hired an Open jeep and from there began our expedition to the Tiger Kingdom. But since we didn’t had a formal appointment, the king didn’t bother to meet us. But he was courteous enough to send his prime minister, Mr Leo Pard to welcome us!!! We bought batteries from a shop near a temple in the middle of the jungle which activated the dormant photographer in all of us. We clicked monkeys, Langurs, antelopes, foxes, birds, mountains, trees and what not.

Sariska is not a big forest so in 3-4 hours we were done with it. The next place on our list was Silised Lake. Unfortunately there wasn’t any public transport connecting the two places. But travelling golden rule 101 says that “if you can compromise on comfort you can reach anywhere in the world”. We adhered to this golden rule and took a lift in a truck loaded with gunny bags. Since there wasn’t enough space in the driver’s cabin, four of us sat on the top, over the gunny bags! The wind blows your mind away (literally!) and makes you practically deaf! The truck dropped us at a diversion from where the Lake was 4-5 KM ahead but we didn’t get 2nd time lucky and had to walk all the way! And I am glad that we did walk and enjoy the scenic beauty in a laid-back manner rather than zipping away. It’s the same difference as there is between sipping the wine and gulping the wine!

Read more>>>>

Next>> Silised Lake - The territory of Crocs

Silised Lake - The territory of Crocs

2011-02-20T19:50:00.007+05:30

Silised Lake is slightly elevated from the road so that you can't see the water till you are really close as if trying to maintain the suspense till the very end; something a reality show anchor does while announcing the name of the winner. But when you finally see it, you know it's worth it. It is a beautiful rain fed lake surrounded almost entirely by Aravali hills with a palace hotel touching the lake on three sides. The Boating facility is provided by the hotel at a fee of Rs 200 for 30 min. Without losing much time we hired two Pedal-boats.

The lake was so beautiful and water was so clear that my urge to swim in it only grew stronger with each pedal. But there were two things which were holding me back – a Notice which read “the lake has Crocodiles” and my friend Lokesh, who was hell bound not to let me swim. I could convince myself that it would not be that risky to swim for a while but to convince Lokesh was proving to be next to impossible. I kept losing my clothes while persuading loki but when I realized he is not gonna budge from his stand, I got up and dived in ! The water was very cold but I hardly felt it at that time; the adrenaline rush was so high! I started with back stroke but the further I was going from the boat the more insecure I was feeling; after all the warning on the notice board was also somewhere in my mind.

My reasoning was - even if there were few crocs; they wouldn’t be swimming right in the middle. In the afternoon they must be resting somewhere and it should take them more than 5 minutes to spot me and reach there! Therefore, at least for 5 minutes, I am safe. But reasons don’t work on heart and it was beating like crazy. Whatever time I was in water, I was anticipating a Jaw coming from somewhere! But when I started swimming back to my boat, it kept on receding away from me. I was wondering if my friends want me to remain in water till they get some real “entertainment”!!! Finally I touched base and raised my hands to express my elation! It was a great feeling and I am not that good a writer to be able to capture and express it through words.

By the time we finished our boating, the weather became windy. Huge waves developed in a hitherto came lake. Rains followed the wind and then the magic happened. We could witness two extremely beautiful rainbows, one over the other. If the order of colours (i.e. VIBGYOR or ROYGBIV) determines the gender of a rainbow then one was Male and the other was female and I don’t know who was on the top!!

We clicked a lot of photographs in the backdrop of the rainbows risking getting wet in the rain. The Nature’s spell was over soon but we were left spellbound! We had a hot coffee and some ‘pakoras’ at the rooftop restaurant of the palace and bade adieu to this magnificent lake. A gentleman helped us to reach the railway station within time (but at a price). The train was few minutes late and stuffed with people way beyond its capacity. Though we had confirmed tickets but for the next 3 stations we were hanging at the doors because we couldn’t swim across the 'human sea' between us and our seats! And when we finally reached our seats, they were already encroached and we had to sit on our own seats like guests!!

But as they say, nothing lasts forever and this roller-coaster weekend trip to Sariska also came to an end with the train reaching my station at 10PM in the night. Two of us got down there while the other five went on till Delhi Railway Station to extract the full value of their tickets!!!

Previous Post>> Sariska - The land of Tigers

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Goa Travel Diaries - Biking Expedition

2011-01-24T20:37:00.005+05:30

After living all my life so far on land, I finally saw what covers ¾th of the Earth’s surface - Sea - in Goa. And also witnessed a very interesting phenomenon – Tides. Sometimes they are low and sometimes they are high. My Goa trip also happened in two phases- Awesome high tide n dramatic low tide.

The high tide phase was the “Goa Biking Expedition” days. Each day was a massive “wave” which hit me with its incredible force and drenched me completely. The low tide phase was the post biking days when I was on my own. But its low tide only in comparison to the biking days, otherwise it too had some amazing moments scattered in between.

Unlike most of my trips, which are impromptu, this one was well planned (??) and tickets were bought (not confirmed!) a month ahead. On the D-day I boarded my train at the 11th hour (do we have a better phrase than this cuz my train started moving 3 seconds after I boarded!). I was sleeping when my Station (Thivim) arrived. I wore my jacket, picked my bag and rushed to the door like a kid rushes out of the class when the recess bell goes off. The train started moving 3 seconds after!! I reached the base camp at Miramar, Panjim at 9:30 PM.

The biking group GB-5. (from left)- Lata, Vishnu, Dhruv, Suresh,
Archna, me, Somashekar, Dinesh, Asha, Kumudini & Pawan

Things started happening the next day when the group members got acquainted with each other. 11 Bikers – 4 from Mumbai, 3 from Bangalore, 2 from Hyderabad and 2 from Delhi – most of them riding geared bikes (Merida) for the first time!

Enough of flirting around..it’s time to take off the clothes….afterall the beach is calling and the Waves are coming!

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Next> wave 1: Into the blue

Wave 1: Into the Blue

2011-01-24T20:17:00.004+05:30

(at the Base camp, Miramar)

Our camp was at the mouth of river Mandovi and the Miramar beach was just a kilometer from there. Though it’s one of the saddest beaches of Goa but if “virginity” meant “never been to a beach”, I lost my Virginity to Miramar beach and that’s why it’s special to me! It was literally a very bitter experience. The sea water kills all your taste buds the moment it goes in your mouth and for the next 10 minutes all you do is spit profusely n abuse yourself for drinking that poison in the first place.
Though I was in a Sea for the first time in my life; I went more than 500m into it. All the life guards, huddled together, were eagerly waiting for me to drown so that they can get into ‘action mode’ but alas; it wasn’t their day. Finally, the water level got too high and I started my return journey to the beach which seemed like an eternity.

at Miramar beach after i swam back those 500m.

Next> Wave 2: Beach, Bikes & Babes

Wave 2: Beach, Bike & Babes

2011-01-24T20:13:00.002+05:30

(Miramar to Assolna)

in the ferry @ Donapaula

Ironically, we started our bike ride with a ferry (a boat) from Donapaula to get down at Margao port. We cycled on the mountains, in the valleys and then ……on the beaches. Starting with Arrosim beach, one of the most peaceful beaches in South Goa and special to us for “classified” reasons, we cycled on the beach for almost 25 KM taking advantage of low tide. After a lot of cycling, photography and “bird-watching”, we reached Mobor Beach where we again took a ferry to cross a river for our camp – a football field! Although Alcohol was ‘Strictly’ prohibited but we just couldn’t help rejoicing in the “Spirit” of goa! We had Old Monk with Nimbooz in the middle of dew laden field with some dew falling straight on my head (cuz I got myself a new hairstyle as well, if going BALD is considered a ‘hairstyle’!)

Next> Wave 3: Swimwear Photoshoot

Wave 3: Swimwear Photoshoot

2011-01-24T20:07:00.002+05:30

(Assolna to Netravali)

The beach-days were over but the Fun had only started to intensify. The bike ride with its steep uphill stretches was a real pain in the ass (literally!) but the ‘Welcome Drink’ at Netravali Camp vaporized all of it in a jiffy. Afterall it was a large coconut full of water, harvested rights from the tree. The white jelly-like ‘malai’ was the icing on the cake.

striking a perfect pose

Soon we left for a nearby Pool famous for its bubbles known as Budbudanchi tali (meaning ‘Bubble pool’ in Konkani). It was one of the best natural swimming pools that I have ever seen and hence didn’t took much time to jump in. Others joined me shortly after. We shot our own edition of “Goa Biking Swimwear Calendar 2011” under the flagship of Ace photographer Archna Upadhyay and I guess Mr.Mallya is going to get a run for his money once we launch it (when we get enough money to do so!). The evening witnessed some scintillation performances by Archna, Asha, Kumudini, Lata, Pawan, Dinesh and yours truly!

and you thought we forgot our cycles !

splash of water n snap of the shutter

Next> Wave 4: Death Defying Dive

Wave 4: Death Defying Dive

2011-01-24T20:06:00.001+05:30

(Netravali to Dudhsagar)

the Majestic waterfalls n a mortal in the middle who survived !

We (me & Vishnu) had heard a lot of “good stuff” about Dudhsagar waterfalls and just didn’t want to miss that at any cost therefore we were cycling like crazy despite a jungle terrain. But as luck would have it, the last tourist jeep bid adieu when we reached at the waterfalls and, quoting the famous hindi song, “Dil ke armaa aansuon main beh gaye, hum haaf-haaf ke bhi tanhaan reh gaye”.

Dudhsagar after the sunset

Once we recovered from that setback, we were swept away by the glory of the falls. I couldn’t restrain myself for long from diving into the pool beneath the falls. I was totally “chilled out” and scared (ironic!!). Well, ‘Chilled out’ or frozen because the water was freakin ice cold and scared because on my left was a list of 9-10 people who died while swimming there. Thankfully I didn’t add to that list! The rest of the group came there late in the evening and photography session resumed yet again.

Next> Wave 5: Gate-crashed a Birthday Party

Wave 5: Gate-crashed a birthday party

2011-01-24T20:04:00.001+05:30

(Dudhsagar to Bondla)

Patient , Doc n nurse

Dudhsagar waterfalls is inside Bhagwan Mahavir National Park and coming out from it on bikes is an ordeal of superlative degree and what’s the fun getting out unscathed. Lata had the “good fortune” of tasting this real adventure. The incident also infused some team-spirit in me. She wasn’t in condition to ride so she was sent straight to Bondla camp along with a Doctor (Suresh) and a nurse (Kumudini)!

the Birthday party with the open house 'bar' n bar-b-Q!

In the evening, we were jolted by some guys, next to our camp, who were singing Hindi, Marathi n Konkani songs in the maximum possible loudness and crassness a human vocal chord can afford. Curiosity took me there to find out what’s the fuzz all about. I came to know that it was a Birthday cum Retirement party of a Goa Dairy employee. They welcomed me and asked the group to join them; Only Pawan and Dinesh assented. They offered us Whisky, kingfish and Chicken rolls. We also sang and danced on a couple of Hindi and Marathi songs.

Next> Wave 6: Dolphins, Squids & Kingfish

Wave 6: Dolphins, Squids n Kingfish

2011-01-24T20:02:00.003+05:30

(Bondla to Miramar)

On the motorboat with those
jazzy life jackets

Gotchaa !!!

Once we were back at the Base camp we were in a hurry to utilize whatever little time we had together before everyone heads in separate directions. One such attempt was to go for a Motorboat Ride whose USP was “Dolphin Spotting” and guess what, they weren’t lying either. We saw two highly elusive Dolphins making those trademark loops in the water. infact, we were able to capture one of them in our camera as well. And then we saw the luxury yacht of Vijay Mallya, Samara, without him or any of his calendar girls on board! :(

Can u spot hanging pants of Mallya!

Culinary innovation: Squid Pav

The previous night, we also checked out “Mum’s Kitchen”, one of the famous restaurants in Goa. This place is also good for spotting some marine animals …………..right there, in your plate! I spotted some Sqids while Somshekhar and Dhruv spotted Kingfish!

Soon after everyone except me had a flight or train to catch and a hilarious expedition came to an end abruptly. I stayed on to see the ‘Low tide’.

(post-biking days were eventful too, in different ways.....post under final touches, update u soon! cheers)

I wanna read from the beginning >>

how I parked my cycle - a Trade Fair Tale

2010-11-21T21:12:00.000+05:30

After the Half marathon, me and my friends planned to visit the Trade Fair. Since i couldn't find a parking at "Race course" metro station (nearest from Nehru Park - Half marathon venue), i thought of riding till Pragati Maidan while my friends safely took the Metro !

surprisingly, I reached a good 15 min before them but the regular parking at gate 10 was full and the cycle stand was only meant for the cycles on rent. I was directed towards gate no. 2.

At gate no. 2 i asked for parking from a 'mahila' police constable. She smirked at me and then showed me the way. she said, "100 rupaye ki parking hai". i cudnt get it initially due to the noise n kept going but when i realised what she said i applied the front brakes in a reflex; the handle rammed into my crotch!

I went on towards the parking anyhow. However, the parking guys declined to give me a parking slip (first, they even declined to let me park) and the parking charges (without any guarantee )......Rs 20. (10 times of what the display board was showing, yes... 2 rupees only !)

I approached the Police sitting a couple of meters away. the officer (see the shift..instead of 'thulla' i m referring him as officer !!) surprisingly was helpful. he rebuked the parking guy in his typical haryanvi ishtyle, " हां भई, पार्किंग चलाणी है के ना चलाणी" (u guys wanna run ur parking or not). "कौन सा मांग रा है इस्से बीस रुपे? " (who is asking 20 rupees from him?"). The parking guy was totally taken aback and got into an immediate diffensive mode.

another officer joined in later and he added ," भाई साईकिल खू गी तो बिना पर्ची के कौन जिम्मेदारी लेगा और ऊपर से फोरेनर !!!!! " ( without the slip, who will take the responsibility if the cycle got lost and that too of a foreigner !). Foreigner ????? are you kidding me ? well, he is not to be blamed entirely. With shaved head, an alien looking helmet in hand and a bike with all those gear jing-bang....i was probably confusing many. i had to explain him in hindi that i am not a foreigner!

yeh, at the end of this drama, i did parked my bike , got the parking ticket of a motorcycle with "CYCLE" written over it at 5 (n not 10) times the govt rate i.e 10 rupees !

PS: Gul Panag can find solace in the fact that she was not the only one "molested" that day; i was molested too, only i enjoyed it !!

Dogs and Debit cards not allowed!

2010-10-13T16:56:00.001+05:30

Well the website didn’t say that categorically but it pretty much meant the same.

This week I planned to book 2 tickets for "Robot"(movie) on 'Book My Show' but I was denied because my Debit Card doesn’t have a CVV no. ! (click on the link if u want to know more about this no.). I don’t care if it’s the fault of the website not to accept a card without Cvv or it's the fault of the bank which issued me such a card in the first place but the bottom line is I couldn’t see the movie and now I have to face the fury of Rajinikant, I hope he doesn’t take a bite off of my head just like he has done with the Apple Logo (who else do you suspect should have done such a thing !!)

I don’t understand this step-motherly treatment given to debit cards. Aren’t they getting money when someone pays through debit card? Don’t they know that some debit cards don’t have CVV no.? And if they know why don’t they make some changes in their website to facilitate it? Or if its not safe to transact online without CVV no., what stops the wretched banks to issue cards with this no.?

Late C K Prahlad said that fortune is at the bottom of the pyramid but is anyone listening to him? Just imagine how many more ‘gauravs’ would be there in this country with CVV-less Debit cards who are willing to buy online and contribute to the ‘white money’ of the country but forced to buy tickets in black! Well, 'Book my show' didn’t lose me just for Robot but for all Rajini/non-Rajini movies henceforth.

Mr. commerce minister, if you want the e-commerce to grow in India, please ask RBI to lend money to OBC at a rate which is 2% higher than the rate for other banks as a punishment for issuing me a CVV-less Debit Card and direct Book My Show to allow me book tickets till I get a new Credit card/Debit card with CVV no. and also give me two complimentary movie tickets for Robot.

Democracy shall truly prevail in India when Debit cards would be given an equal status as that to Credit Cards. Amen!

(PS: till the time this post went public, i still haven't seen Robot !!)

7 things I would never forget about my Tajmahal trip on Trek

2010-10-08T18:21:00.007+05:30

1. Felt like a Star – many would think that I was all alone on the highway and it would have been very boring to cycle for some 13 hours (one way!). But the fact is I was never alone! I had hundreds of my ‘fans’ following me throughout the stretch. Some were staring at me with amazement, some with reverence and some with utter clumsiness! Kids were waving at me and I didn’t disappoint them either. Some even slowed down to ask what I was up to and they invariably wished me ‘all the best’ with a thumbs-up gesture. Being a star is sometimes hectic!

2. Lost my Nationality – till 2nd October I had no doubt in my mind that I was an Indian but this trip changed it all. On the highway (NH 2) I was mistaken by many as a ‘firang’, courtesy, my trek and the helmet.
The same thing happened again at Tajmahal and Agra Fort, this time because of my company and so to please the ‘curious crows’, I had to come up with a fake nationality – Nigerian – which they readily believed! Salesmen, beggars and guides were chasing me believing that I was a foreigner. Even when I asked for directions from people in Hindi, they guided me in English! Incredible!

3. Met with some amazing people – travelling almost always gives you fantastic opportunities to meet people from different cultures and countries. The only condition is that you shouldn’t remain in your shell.
   a. Seeing the Taj would have been a boring experience had I not got the company of Patrycja and Magda, (from Poland). For the rest of the day, they were my bodyguards (at 1.80 m, patrycja definitely was!) and I was their manager because all the eager Indian guys were approaching me to get a photo clicked with Pat & Mag. Well at times, I had to become the photographer as well! after a coffee at CCD, they left for varanasi and i ...well, u will come to know soon!
   b. If I was able to get a hotel that day, it was all because of Fabio, guy from Italy. My first meeting with him was quite kick-ass. It brought back the quirkiness in me; much needed in those desperate circumstances. And guess what, I got the room in the same hotel in which he was staying. At around 11:00 PM we had a roof-top chat on topics ranging from Berlosconi (Italian PM) to Sonia Gandhi and Italian men’s Casanova image to Indian girls’ intense eyes!
      c. I wouldn’t have visited Agra fort if it wasn’t for Aymeric and his girlfriend LN (from Paris). We had a roof-top breakfast while admiring the beauty of Taj which was in front of us. Being with foreigners worked against me once again– guides persuading me and people asking me, “which country”? Me – “India….sorry …Nigeria!!” I came to know later that Aymeric proposed to LN to marry him in front of Taj and she agreed! Can it get any more romantic?

4. Almost lost my trek – it would have been a horrible way to remember an otherwise incredible trip but at one point of time it was almost a reality. When at 8 PM I reached the parking-lot of Tajmahal (after the coffee at CCD!), it was as silent as a graveyard and my Trek wasn’t there. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. The only thing I had was the parking ticket which kept my hopes alive that I will find her soon. And the next morning at 8, exactly 12 long hours later, during which I hardly slept, I got my darling back! The parking guys had taken her away with them.

5. Lost my identity – the cloak room was also closed by then and with that, my backpack and my identity got locked up inside it. I didn’t have anything substantial to prove that I am Gaurav Jain. Three hotels rejected me to give a room. Feeling of dejection was overtaking me when I met Fabio, the guy from Italy, who was wearing a cool ‘Buda Bar’ t-shirt with a risqué image of a girl at the back. We had a small chat about ‘Buda bar’ and I guess that was enough to pull me out of gloom! I checked in ‘hotel Shahjahan’ afterwards and I got the room this time because now my business card was my ‘identity’ and a small polythene bag in which I was carrying a box of petha and 2 bananas was my ‘luggage’! Attitude matters!!

6. Felt Lucky – people say that you get overwhelmed when you see the Taj for the 1st time but that’s such an overstatement. I was overwhelmed when I got phone calls from my friends the next day of my Facebook update “lost trek…no luggage…cant get a room….” It’s very reassuring that people care about you; it gives you courage and makes you smile. Pedal Yatri’s, the group I am part of, not only cheered me up for my fete but came forward to great extent to help me out of the mess. I am lucky to get such great friends.

7. Somehow made it – the entire NH-2 from Agra till Delhi border (Badarpur) didn’t pose much difficulty to me but that last 30 KM stretch from Badarpur to Dwarka sapped almost all my energy. My legs were crying (see the pain in the line!), thorns had developed in my ass and despite all that I was half asleep! But somehow I kept going on and the rest as they say is history!

this is how a mom explains how a child is born to her 8yr old daughter !

2010-09-30T13:28:00.001+05:30

Julia Sweeney has "The Talk" | Video on TED.com

Delhi Metro is "BROKEN"

2010-09-28T13:35:00.001+05:30

Yesterday I saw a video by Seth Godin (an illustrious blogger, marketer and speaker) on TED.com speaking about his venture “This is Broken” - A project to make businesses more aware of their customer experience, and how to fix the snags in it. (to see the video, click TED.com)

I realized that even Delhi metro is “broken”. We all must have heard that announcement – “please mind the gap (while getting off)” and we also must have seen those stickers warning us not to put our hands on the glass of the sliding doors.

What I don’t understand is that If they know that the gap can potentially handicap or even kill a small kid (who can’t make sense of the announcement) or the sliding doors can break somebody’s fingers if he accidentally put his hand on the glass (considering how crowded metro can get, its quite likely), why don’t they do something about it? Just making a repeated and annoying announcement (which most people totally ignore) or putting up a sticker is not gonna fix it.

Why can’t the metro trains have a projection at the base of the door which comes out when the train stops at the station and cover up the gap! (Hey Mr. Cynic, don’t you say it’s too hypothetical)

Or, why don’t they increase the thickness of the glass so that no gap remains between the surface of the door and the surface of the the glass in which a person can get his hand trapped when the doors slide open!

It’s very much possible but they simply don’t care. They just want to fulfill their responsibility by a sticker or an announcement. Mr. E Sreedharan, our metro is broken, would u mind fixing it please?

One Step Closer

2010-09-20T22:34:00.006+05:30

Yeh, I'm one step closer ……………… one step closer to the Taj (Agra). And this momentous occasion was marked by the successful completion of the ride to Murthal (Google it to know where it is!) at a phenomenal speed (for an Amateur).

I know you wont google it so, to give you a fair idea, Murthal is on NH1 (better known As GT Road), north of Delhi. I am sure you must have heard of Sonipat; Murthal is few KMs ahead of it.

'missa parantha' with freshly whipped cream ! yummy !!

The day started unbelievably early. In fact, most of you must be having a really awesome sleep/time when I woke up, thanks to Vinay, one of our 3 member “strong” gang – me, him and Anand!

Well, I won’t bog you down with the details of what we did and what we saw on the way except that on reaching Murthal, we had a sumptuous breakfast at “Ahuja’s No.1 Dhaba”. I guess you certainly want to know the details of the breakfast at least, don’t you? Well, so be it. It was Paranthas (of various kinds viz. Paneer, aaloo, missa, mix etc) loaded with freshly whipped cream, Dal makhni, Dahi and Lassi(specially for me. Others chose tea)
.


me and Vinay at Ahuja Dhaba after the breakfast

Though it was tough to start immediately after having such a heavy and sleep inducing breakfast but as they say, when it gets tough, the tough gets going. (Applause!!)

Let me issue a disclaimer before I move any further.

Disclaimer - Everything which I am narrating here is precisely how it happened and not scripted or dramatized in any way!

So, on our way back, I suddenly heard a faint whistle. On deeper inspection, I came to know that it was my tyre. I must praise my bike for its consistency; for it was third flat-tyre-weekend in a row. Bravo! Puncture shop was 2 KMs ahead. But a messiah in the guise of a Tractor-driver emerged out of the horizon to semi-resurrect my bike, the other half was completed to perfection by the mechanic!

On reaching our destination (Dhaula Kuan) at around 11:30, we celebrated the fantastic ride with a much deserved Beer. The ride tracking devices were telling that we covered a staggering distance of 113 KMs in an impressive time of 4h:58m at an Avg. speed of 23 Km/h burning a mind-boggling 4000 calories! (To give you something to compare with – an average human being needs 2000 calories in an entire day!!!)

the route and other details as per the GPS device. technology my friend, technology !!

For Anand and Vinay, it was the end of the ride but for me, there were still few Kms left before I could reach home and park my bike.

Clean Delhi Drive - an Art of living initiative

2010-09-11T19:59:00.000+05:30

This day was certainly one of the most eventful days of my life. I never expected rag picking would be so exciting; I really envy the sweeper of my street now!!!

The day started quite contrary to what I had planned. We had a weekend cycle ride to gurgaon and I was supposed to meet my friends at McD, South Ex at 6AM but I found myself still in bed at that time when my alarm finally managed to wake me up. I have something to learn from my Alarm….”Never Quit”!

Hoping to catch them at Radisson hotel on NH-8, I set off on my TREK (cycle) from Dwarka and reached before they could (I’ve got speed, bro!). Incidentally they were having a tea break at IFFCO chowk so covering up a few KMs more to their resting place didn’t sound a bad idea, apparently. But, it was a bad idea because I got a flat tire just 200 mts before I could reach there. It was 7:45 AM and if that wasn’t a reason good enough not to find a cycle repair shop; it was a triple holiday- Ganesh’s b’day, Eid and ..and….9/11 anniversary!!

I thought of going back to Dwarka in a DTC bus but I had little idea of how strict but surprisingly polite the conductors were while rejecting my request to carry my bike along with me.
Till now that puncture had cost me 1 hour n still I was absolutely clueless of what to do until a rikshaw walla guided me to sec 17 market where I could get lucky. Well, I got double lucky, there was a repair kiosk and just next to it, a Girls’ PG !!

While I was whiling away my time, I called Neeraj, someone who was associated with Clean Delhi Drive (CDD) and I came to know that it was going on right under my nose; at IFFCO Chowk. There was no time to lose.

The Clean Delhi Drive was going on in full swing when I reached there.
I sneaked in my bike between two cars hoping that it would be safe there, put on those ‘surgical gloves’ and ……………….(absolutely, I was also blank after that!). I couldn’t see where to start; whether to pick a broom and start sweeping the road or pick up a large black bag and start dumping the filth (mostly gutkha n khaini sachets!) in it or join a group of guys who are already doing the stuff. Well there’s nothing better than ‘narebaazi’ to warm someone up n so I used this tried n tested stratagem; it worked! Slogans like- “meri dilli, meri Yamuna”, meri dilli saaf ho, usme mera haath ho”, “zimmedari kaun lega, ham lenge..ham lenge” really charged me up. Rest was easy, like handpicking the little sachets splattering the road or sweeping murky corners with broom etc. After collecting enough garbage, shouting enough slogans and spreading enough awareness among people who happen to cross IFFCO chowk at that point of time, we moved on. While some hopped into their cars, others on their bikes and a significant others into the metro, I hopped on my TREK!

Now we were at a place which literally represents Delhi, just like Big Ben does for London - Qutub Minar. A nukkad natak was to be staged here which I couldn’t see cuz I was happier being a rag-picker than an audience. Events like Clean Delhi Drive also give you the opportunity to meet some interesting and like minded people, which is always a great experience.

The only thing remaining was the “Concluding Ceremony” at parliament Street, which was supposed to start at 3 PM. It was around 12 noon and everyone knew exactly what they were going to do with those 3 hours except... (U guessed it)...Me. The best possible way to kill time and distract my mind from fatigue was to see Qutub Minar. An old 10 Rs note is all you need! (sorry folks, i didnt have that swanky Rupee symbol!). I could have guessed why I didn’t care to visit it in the past xyz years (where xyz represents my age!); it’s a boring place. Others probably couldn’t notice this subtle truth cuz they were either a couple or a group!! But the place ceased to be boring when I happened to meet this researcher from Berlin Botanical Garden who was in India to give some lecture to DU students. We talked on many things except Botany!

On reason why I call my cycle a byke is – it attracts equal amount of parking charges as any normal motorcycle would! Grabbing a Masal Dosa at a road-side dhaba near Qutub Minar, I quickly made my move towards Parliament Street. But I didn’t have any Water and since I was low on Cash, I didn’t want to spend my money on it (crazy stuff, I know!). So on my way, the office of NCERT came (yeh, the same NCERT, which designed the books we read till 12th) and I got my bottle filled, courtesy, liberal guards!

At Parliament Street, it was a different scene altogether - 3 level barricades and countless policemen. It gave the illusion as if Sri Sri Ravi Shankar (whom everyone calls Guruji) is coming. Children from various schools were present there in large number, telling everyone how serious and enthusiastic they are about such initiatives. NCC cadets, NGO volunteers were few others who were making their presence felt. But the life blood of the event was the volunteers of the Art of Living foundation. Few impressive speakers, most notably – Mr. Giri, and an impressive, educative but at the same time utterly hilarious ‘Nukkad natak’ by the teachers of “The Art of Living” stole the Show. The ceremony concluded with the crowd doing some dance moves on the song written for the occasion which goes like, “aao mil kar saath chale ab, dilli ko ham saaf Karen ab………..”

I accept that although I joined CDD to just have a fun weekend but everything that happened during the day had a much larger impact on me than I expected. I became aware of how indifferent I was before and how much power I have to make a difference, not only in the cleanliness of Delhi but in my own life and in the life of million others.

While making sure that we don’t litter (it would be ironic otherwise – littering on closing ceremony of Clean Delhi Drive!), everyone picked their as well as others’ used water bottles and threw them in the dustbins. It was time to go home but not before tasting another south Indian dish, ‘uttapam’ at a nearby dhaba specializing in South Indian delicacies. With the lyrics of the song and memories of a ‘Sweeping’ day in my mind, I didn’t realize when I reached home. A fantastic weather with intermittent drizzling was just a beautiful add-on!

(PS: here's the route that i happened to follow. cycled around 68 KMs. !!)

Daastan-e-Ishq

2010-08-20T12:06:00.000+05:30

Well, I couldn’t find a better title for this lil post cuz it's nothing but a love story (of a different kind, of course!).

Since the met department had forecasted that it would be a bright and sunny day, I was kinda sure that it would rain but It didn’t……I mean it didn’t rain….. it poured. In fact, it flashed to me for a while that Delhi may also suffer “flash Floods” much like Leh a few days back but then god was kind enough on Delhi Govt and Suresh Kalmadi in particular by not adding to his miseries. Ironically, the Firang inspector who came to assess the preparedness of Delhi for the common wealth games expressed ‘satisfaction’!!

Chalo, lets forget these “Common -- Games” (sorry for the blanks, someone took away the “wealth”!) for a while and lemme get back to the sexy rainy weather. But to be able to see the weather in this perspective u gotta be a Cyclist (Trekist to be precise); for a car or byke ‘wala’, this day can easily be one of the worst nightmares he could possibly have, courtesy, the pathetic drainage system of delhi roads which simply refuse to take in even a bucketful of water. In fact, it would rather return it back along with two bucketsful of mud, silt and feces which were stuck up in its ‘digestive system’. And then there are those artistically designed potholes; Delhi’s own way of rain water harvesting and just when you hope that bad news would end, the Traffic lights stop working and it’s a lost cause (just like expecting Common – Games to be a success) to expect a traffic police official when the lights take their last breath.

But, if u are a Trekist, nothing bothers u. The rain drops aren’t a source of worry; they seem like a source of perennial joy. The traffic doesn’t seem like a barrier but a maze through which you have to trace your path. The potholes become mini swimming pools in which u find inexplicable pleasure every time you splash that muddy water on a passing Honda Accord or Bajaj Pulsar! While everybody else is waiting under a tree or a flyover to get the rain gods a bit relaxed, you are pedaling your way with grandeur and élan on your TREK (well, it’s basically a cycle, but then it’s not a cycle, it’s a TREK). While everyone is looking at you perplexed, you are looking at them with Pity. Off n on, you also get a look which says that if only I wasn’t with my husband/boyfriend/bhaiya/driver, I would have loved to enjoy this amazing rain with you on your bike. These are the moments which reassure me that trek khareed kar maine koi galati nahin ki.

You reach your office, totally drenched with trail of ‘keechad’ stretching from your bums to the tip of your head, courtesy, a good-for-nothing mudguard while everyone else is jumping out of their car or rikshaw and tiptoeing till they safely get under a roof and then look at their shoes to ensure that not even a speck of mud has ruined the sanctity of their formal attire. While my Trek now needs a nap after a 23 KM roller-coaster ride, its time for me to change, get into semi formals and slog at the office for 8 long hours hoping that they pass like 8 min so that I hop on to my Trek once again for another hilarious ride on the special roads of Delhi and gurgaon in the Rain, of course!

Coming Up (in few days): the 120 KM century ride that we did on Independence day eve

(p.s. - the pic is not of this day but inserted to give a feel of how cool it is to pedal in the rains!!)

Pedaling my way to office

2010-07-14T10:25:00.000+05:30

It’s said that to accomplish something, there should be perfect alignment between your mind and your body but for the past few weeks, this coordination was eluding me despite my repeated attempts. But things went beyond my tolerance limit (which apparently is quite wide!) yesterday and I decided that today is the day when ‘it’ has to be done or it won’t be done ever.

The decision was to go to my office on cycle. To give you the idea, I live in Dwarka and my office is in gurgon, some 25KM from my place. Well, that’s only a very vague guess because till this date I never cared to note the meter reading from my home to the office!

According to the plan, the alarm was set at 6 in the morning and as all alarms infamously do, it went off sharp at 6. But I only managed to pay heed to its continual calls at 7:15. The plan was almost screwed because I was left with only 15 minutes before the scheduled departure at 7:30 so that I may reach the office at around 9 (if I could, that is). Without even changing my clothes, I just packed my backpack with a t-shirt, pants, formal shoes and most importantly, my deodorant! At 7:45, when my mom and dad weren’t there, I slipped away to my office on my cycle. Unfortunately by that time, the sun was already there to take ‘good care’ of me for the rest of the journey.

When you are on a cycle you become fearless of jams, infact you love them because this gives you a dose of ego-boost when you effortlessly move through the gaps between the cars while they haplessly remain stranded. some 'wise' men say that girls love it when someone looks at them with 'appreciative' eyes, while guys love it when someone looks at their girl with those appreciative eyes but with me things are bit wacky. I love the 'bewildered' eyes of the person sitting in the car moving next to me while I am pedaling at full throttle with my torso bent forward. And if by gods grace, that bewildered eyed person happens to be a girl, even better. This supercharges me like nothing else; even Gatorade can't beat it.

When I was just a couple of kilometers away from my office, I almost came on the verge of throwing up but thankfully I didn’t but it was reason enough for me to stop under a shady tree and sip nariyal paani. here, I was conned by either the vendor or the god because the rugby ball shaped nariyal which i chose so meticulously had lesser water in it than what i can hold in my hands! When I reached my office, I was totally drenched in sweat. I hit the washroom of the Galeria Complex (where my office is) to change because I felt too awkward to go to office in a t-shirt and extremely short shorts! I reached office at 9:10, a good 20 min earlier than other days and the rest as they say is historical!

(PS: After signing off for the day at 7pm, I grabbed my cycle, which I had parked at a shady and secluded place, only to find that its rear tyre was punctured. But this flat tyre gave me the opportunity to see a colony of Rikshaw pullers for the first time in my life where I got the puncture work done. The name of the place was ‘Alasiya mod’ in literal sense – lethargic turn! Well it needs a separate post to describe the scenic beauty of that colony but one scene stood out of the rest. At a tea shop, a movie was tuned on a small colour TV and there were like 25 – 30 people watching it with rapt attention; the scene, featuring Shakti Kapoor and a girl at his mercy deserved that attention after all. That was their very own PVR plaza.)

A high-spirited night out on two roads: one with Red-light & another, without

2010-05-01T19:45:00.000+05:30

It was the final day of our MBA (supposedly!) and as the occasion demands, it had to be grand and memorable; something at which we could look back and smile. Our college also tried to make the day memorable for us in their own special way by churning out wacky and innovative awards out of thin air like foreign language scholar award, best PR award, human value award etc. A girl got the Maximum attendance award but ironically she wasn’t present to collect that!!

Once this ‘Sitcom’ was over and after a few sessions of group-photos, hugging (with guys) and handshakes (with girls) {although, ideally, it should have been the other way round!!}, we bid adieu to each other one last time.

However, Lokesh, his friends and I had plans to carry on the party as long as we could as If the world is gonna come to an end after this. The plan was to end the night (which eventually extend well into the next day) on a high and the fact that I was no longer a teetotaler was only going to help me to execute the plan better. But before that, it was the regular Mall surfing stuff with the women folks of our group. The random but unanimous pick of the group was Pind Baluchi on the 3^rd floor of GIP Mall. The internal designing of ‘The village restaurant’ was great if not awesome with an almost real tree growing in the middle with something hanging on the branches, looking more like naked men hiding themselves in the tree than monkeys. A sumptuous & delicious dinner paved the way for the much awaited night when the new breed of farzi-managers would celebrate their pricy label in ‘high-spirits’.

Friends were already at loki’s PG at sec-39 and after discussing a few brands of beer and breezers, we hit the theka at sec-37 only to find that he was out of stock. But the river of alcohol never goes dry in India even if river of water does. Finally, we could hear the clinking of the beer bottles at the theka of sec-29. Even the excruciatingly high price of the beer (Rs 90/bottle when one can get the same in Delhi at Rs 50-60) couldn’t deter us from buying a carton of beer with a few bottles less. The carton was in the car but a few friends were absconding. With every passing minute the beers were getting warmer and our temper, shorter. After cursing and cussing the ‘perpetrators’, we opened the bottles in the car itself without making much ado. The party only got grander and noisier back at the PG with profanity overflowing like beer off the rim of the glass. It was too hot in the rooms so we chose a damp filthy corner on the top of the roof beside the overhead tank where cool breeze was caressing us like a girl fondles with her boyfriend by brushing her towel-dry moist hair over his face. Don’t know about others but ‘she’ was getting me turned on! We sat there for hours discussing past experiences; accusing, abusing and occasionally, praising each other.

But this wasn’t destined to be the end of the day; after all, we had a car with us, a Wagon R. “Let’s go to CP”, was the consensus and around 1 in that fabulous night, we fastened our seatbelts ( only figuratively!). We knew it beforehand that our night-out is gonna be awesome. How? Well, the moment we set our foot out of the house we came across two hot chicks with good fashion sense (u know what I mean) and the dark of the night made them even hotter; enough to trigger our fantasies.

We were four; Lokesh, Amit awasthi, me and xyz (he requested not to include his name; you will come to know why). We reached CP but we really didn’t expect it to be dead as a graveyard with not a single decent shop open. But it’s Delhi and hence options are limitless. After refueling the car, we caught hold of the Ashok Road which would lead us to India Gate. But a bigger disappointment was awaiting us there. The splendid India Gate, pride of Delhi, was left at the mercy of moon; not a single flood-light was on to allow this massive structure let its presence felt and announce, “Look, here I am, standing tall amidst this massive wilderness. Come and see me”. And to add insult to injury, there wasn’t any parking. We were going round and round the circle, stopping at the same ice-cream vendor to ask him the same question and observing couples relishing the ice-creams. But something was cooking in loki’s mind, courtesy some previous instance at CP that night and the baba finally came up with this – “guys, lets go to GB road”. We all almost instantly broke into laughter with Mr. xyz saying, “have you gone mad”. But lemme tell you, loki has got good convincing skills and it didn’t took him long to convince us with vivid recounts of his experiences of an altogether different ambience (what he aptly call as “mahaul”) at Kotha no. 64. He was quick to add that he went to the ‘stadium’ as only a ‘spectator’ and not to ‘play’ the ‘game’. And to make it clear to the readers, we had no intentions of playing the ‘game’ either. We were going there as an ‘audience’ to get a live experience of that mahaul.

So this time we asked a different question to the ice-cream walla – “which is the way to get to GB Road”? He was amusingly shocked. I could see a smirk on his otherwise dull and sleepy face. He was only beginning to tell us when a younger, overenthusiastic vendor, standing at a distance cut him short and started explaining his own version of the route saying, “are saab, main gaya hoon chaar-paanch baar” (sir, I have been there 4-5 times). But loki didn’t find his words quite convincing. Thanking them for confusing us and with our own vague idea about the place, we put the car into gear. En route, we asked help from many people – Autowalle, rkshawwalle, pedestrians etc. they helped us with the directions following a series of pattern – their eyes grew brighter, a crooked grin made a magical appearance on their faces and they all repeated this, “achcha, vahan jana hai”. This whole process was downright hilarious. We were having a gala time in the car with our guffaws vibrating the windowpanes more than the woofer!

Finally, after enough meandering, we were on that legendary road. It was filthy and archaic. All the kothas were on the right side of the road and we were avidly gawking towards that side expecting to see something either on the road or in the balconies of the buildings appearing more like booden blocks stacked one over the other by a kid. Alongside the road we saw some women standing and making some racy gestures to us which only they could make! We were looking at them and then to each other with astonished eyes and chuckling. To our surprise, a constable was also there and this very fact made us skeptical. It was almost ruled out that we could go into any of those ‘dens’ leaving the car on the road at the mercy of well..no one. We kept on driving at a slow pace and soon the road ended but not our excursion.

We were feeling hungry by then and we knew a nice little shop near CP which takes care of nocturnal animals like us serving different kinds of paranthas, snacks etc. The atmosphere was buzzing with people with surprisingly a lot of girls in those late hours, thanks to the 24/7 corporate culture.

After crisscrossing most of the central Delhi we decided to hit the road back home and end the ‘Night Safari’ but in our heart of hearts, we never actually wanted to. So when made to choose between taking a left turn towards home or going straight on the Greater Noida Expressway, we chose the latter one. It was time to test the mean machine. Window panes were rolled up and the volume of the music was raised with some cool hip-hop beats blasting into our heads and vibrating our chests, giving us even a greater adrenaline rush. Foot once set on the accelerator was never raised and our eyeballs were shuttling between the road and the speedometer which was only rising in sync with our heart beats. 120…..130…..135….140…. We were on the edge of seats when suddenly we realized that a huge truck was crawling in the middle of the highway with loose ends of steel jutting out of it. I involuntarily grabbed the headrest of the front two seats and sunk my neck into the collar-bone. Meanwhile, Amit managed to decelerate and maneuver his way around that deadly truck. But the itch to touch 150 wasn’t pacified and we accelerated once again. Amit, on the wheel, took out his camera-phone to actually capture that moment when the pointer would touch 150 and finally it did. Our plan was to do a photo session at Pari chowk, the terminal of the Expressway, standing beside statues of angels (hence christened pari Chowk). But in an attempt to save electricity and prevent global warming, UP govt. had switched off all the lights of this roundabout when they are ‘least’ needed – in the night. We took a u-turn to finally get back from where we all started. While the rest of our friends slept and hence couldn’t keep a track of time, we were wide awake, having a time of our life.

Lady with the Ring; the return of the King

2010-04-11T02:30:00.000+05:30

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.<< I wanna read from the beginning (my one night stand)

<<Previous -6-

The Bus to Delhi was about to depart when I reached the Bus-Stand. I asked the conductor (who later turned out to be a helper) that can my cycle also travel along with me and how? He said “it can be loaded on the top, give me Rs 20 and I will help you with that”. Finally, I was on my return trip to Delhi in a bus. I was drinking Bristle mineral water (which the shopkeeper sold me as Bisleri) and searching a seat in the bus. A hit film of Govinda and Karishma Kapoor – Gairkanooni (famous for its song; sexy,sexy,sexy mujhe log bolen!)– was being showcased in the TV of the bus and I wanted to catch it from the close but soon an old lady took the bus and she certainly deserved the seat (and the movie) more than I. but standing was even more fun as I could interact with the helper on how Delhiites are better than Haryanvi guys and every other crap possible. After an hour long standing, I got a seat and a girl happened to sit beside me (actually she was sitting there already!!) She was good with all those baseball cap and sunglasses but her nose ring was, LEGEN….(wait for it)…..DARY. Soon we struck off a conversation during which I came to know that she was a Doctor (allegedly!) and was doing an internship at PGIMS Rohtak. She couldn’t believe that I had come all the way from Delhi on a cycle to a place as 'breathtaking' as Tilyar; all she could manage was an incredulous smile. Before we could know, the bus had entered Delhi and her destination, Mundka had come where she wished to take a Metro. After all, no one wants to miss a comfortable ride of Metro if one is braving a stay in Rohtak and a bus journey on the horrible NH 10.
They say that ‘idle mind is a devils workshop’; well, only if you have slept the previous day; if not, even the devil doesn’t feel like working, sleep creeps in eventually. I woke up only when the bus rammed into Kashmere Gate I.S.B.T. at around 1PM.

I filled my belly with some juice and some more water. I ordered for omelet but it was hotter than the sun over my head so I gave it a miss. I asked the way to Noida from few people looking ‘experienced’ but didn’t really comprehend what they said. I went on my own way which I presumed to be right. The route offered me the opportunity to cross probably one of the oldest bridges in Delhi which I thought would crumble the moment I would ride over it; fortunately, it didn’t. The sun was harsh and ruthless and the hot winds were amplifying that harshness - sun and wind, partners in crime! I didn’t feet as miserable and exhausted in the entire trip to Rohtak from Delhi as I had already started to feel now, only midway from ISBT to Noida. I poured half a bottle over my head but got only few minutes of respite. I was dead sure that I can’t reach home; not alive, at least. Fortunately my ex-society, East end Apartments, was some distance ahead. I called my friend and ex-roomy, Vaibhav but he wasn’t at the flat. So I called my friend Paarth instead and thankfully, he was home.
At his door, I was welcomed by thundering barks of his pet ‘Canis’ and my sleep vanished within an instant. A refreshing treat of Glucon D was all I needed and that was precisely what I got, without a mention; Awesome!!!. A few minutes of chatting and sharing my experience was even more exciting. I don’t know when I slept however, when I woke up my body was fresh and light but my head was heavy; after all, my body had lost some weight but my mind had gained some experience.

thanks for giving it a read, hope u had fun!

<Previous
<<to the beginning-one night stand

Welcome to Tilyar; have a Hydro-Therapy

2010-04-10T23:30:00.000+05:30

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Soon the day broke and the gentle and cool breeze picked some speed. On both sides of the highway, there were farms mostly of wheat with the crop ready to be harvested. ( After all, the festival of harvest in northern India, Baisakhi is around the corner).
It was around 6 and I had almost entered the outskirts of Rohtak when I encountered another bifurcation. On asking a local which way to go for Tilyar, he told me either way I will reach the same place. I rephrased the Question and asked which way is better in his opinion. Pointing towards one road with his finger he said, “This one”. I thanked him and took the other road! That road passed through a village where people were busy with their chores (which includes defecating in the open!).
Finally I could see Haryana tourism welcoming me to Tilyar. The tourism minister couldn’t come up with a garland so instead he put up a Welcome-board to compensate for it. The Tilyar resort was getting prepared to welcome its guests. The Garden around the lake was lush green but the lake was still an enigma. I asked a guy, busy with his exercise, “where is the lake”? “Right here”, he said with a hand gesture. And there it was - a huge lake with a mini ecosystem with dense growth of trees in the middle of it and lots of ducks, fishes and polybags and filth everywhere else in the Lake of my fantasies . A perfect tourist spot, whatsay..??I walked around the perimeter of the pond; even lay on it with my bag as my pillow but couldn’t sleep because I became too cautious of the clumsy looks of the passing joggers. Dropping the idea of boating, I headed towards the mini zoo they have with some native and exotic birds, leopard and their prime attraction – tiger. Something coerced me to think like Menka Gandhi when I was in front of the cage of the Indian parakeets (tota). There were parakeets inside the cage and there were parakeets mocking them or probably giving them moral support outside the cage as well. I thought how bad the ‘inmates’ must be feeling to be inside when their fellow members are having a rocking time outside. Braving the monkeys, I got a glimpse of the leopard but missed the Tiger which I hardly bothered about in that state of mind. I was done here; time to move on but had to fill my bottle and so I went into the resort’s restaurant. I took permission from the manager but before giving the permission he gave me a preaching. “You guys set off from home with a bag for school or college but end up visiting Tilyar. You don’t have studies to take care of; all you do is loitering around.” I couldn’t say anything to him, I was amusingly surprised. I only said since we have exams, our college is closed today. I asked for his permission again to which he replied, “You rather have milk than water but keep in mind what I said”. That was amazing.

I knew what I have to do next – swimming. And I knew the places as well; either the pool of sector 14 or kendriya vidyalaya (central school). I chose the K.V. but I was severely misguided by people whom I asked and ended up at the sector 14’s pool. It was 8 AM, time slot for women. Although, girls were screaming and shrieking to convince me to join them in the pool but I am a man of ethics and principles and couldn’t trade them for a paltry sum of Rs 50 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so,….. I went back to the K.V. pool; fortunately, finding it this time. It wasn’t just an hour long swimming session worth Rs 50; it was an exotic session of Hydro-therapy worth thousand dollars– what a steal! My legs were in pure bliss and so was I. all my pain and exhaustion was a history when I came out at 9 and that too because I couldn’t stand the cold water any longer. I asked the pool owner if there are any places worth visiting in Rohtak. He said, “go to Tilyar”!! But he was really amazed to know that I have come there on cycle from Delhi. He offered me some tea (I wish he had offered some Marie biscuits as well !!). he told me that I can check out Kila road if I wish where the market was. I thought, “why not”. So, I headed to kila road with a glass of litchi juice and few bananas inside………….my stomach (of course!). To my disappointment it was a road full of garment shops with hardly any restaurant or dhaba. The sun was going stronger and there was no point delaying my return any further and to cycle all the way back to Delhi was a lengthy and more painful way to commit suicide. So I headed to the New Bus stand, Rohtak.

Next >>> Lady with the Ring; the return of the King

The noble Highwaymen

2010-04-10T16:14:00.000+05:30

.<< Previous -4- Next >>

I crossed Bahadurgadh and soon I came across two factories famous for their products; Surya industries and Parle. I tried to make an entry into the Parle factory to see how Parle G or Hide-n-Seek is made but was declined by the guard. Of course he had to; it was 3 something in the night. Those guards of Surya factory said so crappy and scary stuff that it kept banging in my head for at least 5-10 minutes until I deliberately rejected those thoughts. one guard informed me,” sahab galat time choose kar liyacycle chalane ka aapne, vo bhi is ilake main, jahan 30 rupye ke pauye ke liye logon ko maar dete hain” (you chose the wrong time to cycle, and that to in such an area where people are murdered for a 30 Rs quarter).
It was time for another break and the Cadbury’s made the moment even more sweet and special. I was sitting on sewer pipes lying by the side of the road, relishing the chocolate. Here comes the twist in the tale. When I was almost set to move on, I was confronted with two fat guys on a byke, one of them wearing a blanket and their interrogation started in a very hostile way.
“kya kar raha tha yahan?” (What were you doing here?)
“Nothing.”
“Acha, fatafat bol kya kar raha tha?” (oh, really, now come up with the truth)
“Nothing man, I was just taking some rest after a lot of cycling.”
“yeh tu pehle bhi bol sake tha. Kahan se aa raha hai?” (You could have said that earlier also. Where are you coming from?)
Now this was a very dicey question because if I said Delhi, they are no way gonna believe me and even if they did, I would become an easy target to them. So I preferred to say Bahadurgarh to convey that I am no sitting duck, after all, i am from bahadurgarh, which literally means 'the abode of the brave'!!
“kahan ja Raha hai?” (Where are you going)
“How does it make difference to you?”
“farak to ham batavenge ke pade hai” (Let us tell you what difference does it make).
…(after much deliberation)…….“rohtak”
To this, they talked among themselves, “bhai, ghani gadbad laagey hai mane toh” (there’s something really fishy man). “Bag main ke le raah hai?(what's in the bag)
“There are my books. And why are you so much bothered about what’s in the bag?”
“ham security ke in charge hain (although they didn’t look like). “Pure ilake ki security ka zimma hai mhara”. (We are the security in charge. It’s our duty to look after the entire area)
“checking karva apni” (let me frisk you) and he didn’t wait for my permission to go ahead; he frisked my pockets before he even finished his sentence. Fortunately my mobile was in the side pocket of my bag and it didn’t ring at that time. I got hardly any money which again was in my bag so they didn’t find any in the pockets and finally I got their go ahead (as if they were customs officer and I needed their clearance before I can sell my product in their land.
A ‘Thank you’ came out of my mouth involuntarily; blame it to the courtesy heavy doses we have been subjected to everyday.
They replied in their typical Haryanvi style, “tere thank you ne to ham dekh lenge aage, tu abhi nikal le”. (We will see to your thank you later, you better f*** off).
So I was on the road again, making sure that I am not caught again, especially in a secluded and dark section of the road. A dhaba came by the roadside and I was too hungry to overlook it. I ordered an aalu parantha and tea. I paid the bill, washed my hands and hit the road with loads of energy but was I missing something?? Oh man, not again...... My bag was lying on the chair. I cycled back with a frantic speed to get back ASAP. Fortunately the bag was still there. I made it a point not to lose hold of the bag even for a second from then on.

next >>>Welcome to Tilyar; have a Hydro-Therapy

The dark knight

2010-04-10T15:30:00.000+05:30

<previous -3- Next>>
I was feeling hungry now; one reason may be because I hadn’t taken my dinner yet. But I had Parle G, a perfect recipe to curb hunger and get some energy. My munching didn’t let me realize that I had finally reached Peera Gadhi Chowk where I could see the Direction board – Rohtak 56 KM. this gave me some hope that I was finally on the road which would lead me to Rohtak but the distance that separated me from Mallika Sherawat’s hometown was Humungous and to make a bad situation worse, my thighs were paining and my right knee was stinging. Meanwhile I spotted an ATM and though I had planned it to be a trip with as little resources as possible but my almost broke situation (I had approx. Rs 120 at that time) forced me to hedge myself by withdrawing some money lest anything should go wrong. To save my thighs from cramps, I took some rest in which I gave them a good massage (I could have earned some real money if it wasn’t my own body!) and made a glucose drink with whatever I had in the packet (yeh, I carried one from home). It was a much needed break as I was able to pedal comparatively faster than earlier but there was something else also that was adding to my woes.
Riding a cycle with jeans on is a very unwelcome proposition. It doesn’t let you breath; even a ‘jockey’ doesn’t help you here! ‘It’ was smothered to death and at that point the thought came to my mind that girls should make a good cyclist!! The ride was bumpy but it was quite reassuring to see the KMs decreasing with every subsequent board – 55..54..53. I loved it. Although I was still in Delhi, It didn’t feel like with all those Farm-Houses appearing off and on, on both the sides of the road. Soon I crossed the borders and ventures into Bhupender Singh Hooda’s territory.
I have always thought that National highways are likeBollywood actors; pampered the most. But, I guess NH-10 is the 'Shayan Munshi' of national highways, whom no one really cared about (see, even you don’t know about him!). Few kilometers after crossing the Delhi border, it became quite apparent that policies of highway modernization are only made on papers when the lights suddenly seized to make even a guest appearance. I was making use of the headlights of the passing vehicles which were blinding me out than showing me the way. At one point, the vehicles stopped coming from both the sides and there I was, in the middle of utter darkness with elephant grasses growing on one side and barren land on the other. Above me was a quarter moon in a star-studded sky with unparalleled clarity. I could see a 100 times more stars than I could have seen while in Delhi. The cool, gentle breeze was making the moment even more enjoyable and worth cherishing. It was still not comfortable in the jeans but I guess I became accustomed to it.

Next>>>the noble highwaymen

Hitchhiking on a truck

2010-04-10T12:00:00.000+05:30

<previous -2- Next>>
Cycling in the night has many advantages; you don’t have to face a chaotic traffic and merciless sun. According to my calculations I should be reaching to Tilyar somewhere around 7:30AM (if I can cycle 40 KM in 3 hrs, I should travel 100 KM in 7.5 Hrs plus an hour of grace time. Good haan..) But this wasn’t the day when I was feeling the strongest. By the time I reached Akshardham, my thigh and knee of the right leg started aching. A thought of making a U-turn flashed my mind but fortunately I didn’t give it much consideration. It is one thing to study a route on Google Maps and quite another to actually drive on it – a bifurcation came and I was stuck. Thankfully, a truck was standing few meters ahead. I asked the driver if he knows the way to Rohtak road or NH 10; he declined. It was only when I said ‘Peera Gadhi Chowk’ did he say “yes” and continued “main bhi vahin jaa raha hoon, aap apni cycle truck main daal do, peera gadhi chowk vahan se do kilometer door hai” (I am going that way too, u put your cycle at the back, peera gadhi chowk is 2 KM from where I’ll drop you). I was too skeptical to accept this gesture of help of a truck driver at midnight but then I thought, “It can’t be that bad as I am thinking it to be, after all, what I have to lose anyways”. So I hitchhiked. I was sitting like a king in the cockpit of that mean machine which, till that day, I used to think can’t go beyond a speed of 40.! He was zooming at speed of 70 and the entire truck was creaking as if children were jumping on a broken charpoy or cot (u can think of a better analogy yourself, can’t u? just let your Imagination go wild). A truck is very much a home for these guys. There were clotheslines crisscrossing the back part of the cabin and few clothes stuffed forcibly into a bucket. I am sure they haven’t worn ironed clothes since ages. Both the driver and his helper were in Delhi to work while their families were in a Village of UP in Mainpuri. The Driver was in the job for the past 20 years! “Cant think of doing anything else now” he said. 12:30, it was time to part our ways. I thanked him for all the help and offloaded my cycle with the help of the helper guy. I had only moved an inch when I realized that my back was feeling quite light. Where was my bag? Oh crap, I didn’t’ take my bag. I immediately turned my cycle, baffling the trucks coming behind and stopped in front of my truck (though not exactly mine), took the bag and thanked them again.

Next>>>the dark Knight

My One Night Stand - Expedition to Tilyar Lake, Rohtak.

2010-04-10T11:30:00.001+05:30

If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, the possibility of life is destroyed." ------ Chris McCandless aka Alexander supertramp, (Into the wild)

Movies inspire life, very true indeed; at least I can vouch for that. After I watched the movie “Into the wild”, I just couldn’t remain sitting on my bums. I had to go somewhere I had never been before and experience how it feels like. I wanted to try my limits. I knew that I can cycle a distance of 40 KM without facing much difficulty but I didn’t know how far I can go beyond it. This time, I set my upper limit to 100 KM and I googled precisely that – “places worth visiting within 100KM from Noida”. It threw up many results but I couldn’t make my mind. Soon I left to college but the bug didn’t die. After having a session of “I-know-nothing-teach-me-Finance” with my friend Azhar and Garry, it was time to go home, only if I could.

I searched again and decided to see Tilyar Lake at……………….Rohtak. It Qualified on all the parameters- within 100 KM (91.3 KM to be precise), Swimming Option, and easy on budget. I packed some Chocolates, a ParleG, orbit white and a water bottle before setting off to this Lake where Exotic birds would be waiting eagerly for me (no pun intended). It was 11PM then...more......

Next>>hitchhiking on a truck

A mis-adventurous Cycle trip to India Gate

2010-04-02T13:14:00.000+05:30

It all started with an 'impulse'. The room of my friends was pretty calm when I broke the silence with my uncalled-for baritone. "What are you guys going to do today? If not too busy, let’s go to India Gate". I was quite ecstatic about it but couldn’t find the same enthusiasm in anyone of them (RC, RN, DM, I refrain from taking their names lest they should mind it). I even got into an argument ‘to go or not to go’ which, needless to say, I lost, as I always do. This incident was one more confirmatory evidence in my 'why I won't make a good manager' list. I mean, if I can't persuade 3 people for a thing which they are most likely to enjoy, how am I supposed to persuade or motivate 300 people as a manager for a job which most of them would hate to do; Tough life ahead.
But it was really hard to sit on my bums once the idea made inroads in my mind. After all, sitting with your lappy cant be more fun than roaming around. And so here I was, all set to set off for India gate. Google maps come handy for you get exact route and the distance you are supposed to cover. With a large shot of glucose to support my muscles, I started my night safari at around 8:30.
The initial few kilometers were most trying as the muscles were not used to that kinda exertion, the rest of it was relatively easy. Its something like your semester exams, the first two papers play havoc with your mind, body and sleep, for the remaining ones, well....., you get used to it.

It was fairly a straight route with not much loops and hoops to bewilder me. I was there at around 9:30 but the place was bustling with activity, even at such odd hours. I guess, all were enjoying a nice, no-frills weekend in the heart of Delhi. India gate has become one of the favorite picnic spots for the middle class of Delhi, offering ample space, greenery and a relaxed atmosphere and the fact that so many other people have come there to spend time with their families give a feeling, transient though, that entire Delhi is vacationing and that Nuclear family is still a western concept!
Ice-creams, cold drinks, bhel puri, you name it and its there. And then there is something (if you can call it a toy) which glows with red and blue light, catapulted to sky like a rocket and comes down much like a helicopter. In fact, they are so many in the sky; it appears as if a swarm of giant glow-worms has infested the India Gate.
You can find virtually anything at India Gate except ….. (U guessed it)…. A washroom. It’s kinda strange that so many people come to the place, including foreign tourists for whom The Indian tourism ministry has roped in no less than Aamir Khan under the movement “Atithi Devo Bhavah”, and yet they have failed to spot the dire necessity of a permanent Washroom facility and not an Ad hoc one which closes down by the time the clock hits 7, ironically, the time when people actually start coming. Thankfully, there are sprawling and dimly lit parks all around India gate with dense shrubs and nitrogen deficient plants; you know what I mean.
A mini Ice-cream sundae and a plate of bhel-puri was sufficient to recharge myself and now I was ready to cycle back to Noida, with only one hitch, I didn’t know on which road I parked my cycle out of the 6 almost identical roads. I finally found it on Dr. Zakir Hussain Marg, this time, with a flat rear tire. I was totally screwed up, it was 11 PM and my cycle had a flat tire!! Where am I gonna find a mechanic now? I asked an autowala how much would he take to Noida Sec 82 and he said, “300!”(the max I had was Rs 104). I wasn’t willing to shell out such a ridiculous amount of money (despite my vulnerable circumstances!) for a trip which otherwise would cost half the price or even lesser.
I called my friend Lokesh for some cool advice. He suggested that there are few routes on which buses ply round the clock. I didn’t know and neither did he, but why not try my luck to find a bus which may drop me somewhere near noida. I had to reach ITO (Income Tax Office) for that, which was quite easy but would have been a daunting task if it wasn’t a cool breezy night. I reached ITO and a good and a bad news awaited me. The bad news – there wasn’t any bus at that time to anywhere near Noida and the good news was – an Autowala told me that there was a sardarji near Pragati Maidan metro station who fixes punctures all through the night. That was a ray of hope. In fact all my heaviness and despair vanished in a snap and I even started singing some peppy numbers of bollywood like, “piya tu ab to aaja”, “jeene ke hain chaar din” and likewise. However, on reaching there, I came to know that sardarji had left an hour before due to some reasons and would only come back at 6 in the morning; I couldn’t wait that long. Dejected, I made a return tourney to ITO when, at one of the traffic lights, I met a guy (whose name, unfortunately, I can’t recall) from Amity doing MBA (general) with me. He helped me negotiating the price with the Auto walas and finally we struck a deal with one of them – 100 bucks (which was 4 Rs lesser than I had) while sharing the auto till Noida Sec 37. It was a real pain to mount the cycle in the auto but once inside, the rest of the ride was easy (of course, comparatively). In the meanwhile I tried to convince the driver to drop me till my home (i.e. Vivvek Vihar, sec 82) and not till Sec 37, to which he, thankfully, agreed. And this is how my out-and-out mis-adventurous trip to India Gate ended. I paid the driver Rs 100 plus a tip of Rs 4.!!!

letter to Jairam Ramesh

2010-03-21T14:34:00.000+05:30

Dear Sir,
With utmost respect in my heart of hearts, I would like to present you with an Indian rock python (I have already parceled it to your address) as a token of appreciation for holding the baton of India in the recently concluded (and miserably failed) Copenhagen summit.
I have no grudges against you sir, for you did your job to perfection, safeguarding the interest of India till the very end but you don't realize one thing. while you were giving a spirited presentation at Copenhagen and promising that India is doing everything it should, someone was backstabbing you, yes sir you heard me right, backstabbing you and do you know who those scoundrels were? you would be shocked, I promise. even i was, but this is what the truth is.
Inspired by your rhetoric (which, sadly, wasn't enough to rope in the world's support towards India's point of view) I decided to contribute my bit towards the cause and do whatever was in my capability. I vowed never to own a bike (though i have a history of abjuring my vows, just like most of the politicians have) and decided to use cycle and use my immense popularity (I have just few lacs of followers lesser than Shashi Tharoor) to promote the use of this endangered 'species'. Since India is so seriously worried about the issue of Global warming, which is made all so very apparent by your taking personal interest in the matter and championing the cause, I thought that a small initiative by a person, who is equally concerned about the issue if not more, would be appreciated. I though that I would be welcomed wherever i would go and embraced 'with Arms wide open' and in the process, would also inspire one or two fellow citizens to help our country what it has promised at the world stage.
My Cycle was living a quarantined life till now, getting rusty and senile in the past two years. I brought her out of that shell and invested a fortune (500) over her to bring her back to life. The hit song "tu gandi achchi lagti hai" of the movie 'Love Sex aur Dhokha' has only come recently but i have been singing and she has been living the song for the past two years because i never gave her a wash but that day i washed n caressed her sweltering and curvaceous body with a very special body lotion prepared from mixing Rin (because its better than tide!!)with water. She was all set to hit the road and I had big plans to make her comeback a memorable one.I planned to go all the way from my home(Palam, the western terminal of delhi) to my present address (Vivek Vihar, Noida) on it; Audacious or rather crazy, isn't it? yeah, that is what my parents also said. My mom in fact didn't let me go as if there were snipers deployed all along the way to Noida waiting for me to appear on the scene and draw first blood!My father lashed me with such humble and endearing words which are more that 'qualified' to appear in this official piece of letter. nevertheless, I still held on to my stand, after all I had given a word to you and to the country. Eventually, they gave in and permitted me to go the next morning.
In the beginning of the letter, I mentioned that you are being back-stabbed. this is how this conspiracy is being carried out. slowly and slowly, Delhi has been turned into a hell for cyclists (if not heaven for motorists), discouraging them to an extent that even if someone wants to, he should not be able to Go Green. I have apprehensions that petroleum giants have a hand in it!
Fly-overs are mushrooming all around the city with the noble mission of making the city traffic free but in the process mocking a humble cyclist. However, at the same time, they give the excitement of mountain biking because going up a flyover is no less than scaling a low altitude hill somewhere in arawalli range.
At few crossings (i encountered the Mathura road- Ring road crossing), the Red light doesn't permit you to go straight. This I realized after waiting for a good 4-5 minutes for the light to turn green. On asking a traffic controller if the light would ever turn green, he replied a bland "NO" because there is a 'better' way to cross the road - through the Flyover! Somehow I maneuvered my way across the road (yes sir, unfortunately, I had to break the traffic rules) and moved ahead to enter Noida, Only Yamuna separated me from doing that but I didn't need to worry because DND Flyway has converted the arduous task of crossing yamuna into a pleasurable experience.
But, I guess I was wrong. My enthusiasm was aborted prematurely when a man wearing orange colored jacket stopped me only after a few meters into the flyway. He informed me that I cannot go through the flyway on a cycle. On inquiring, "why Not?", he told me that it doesn't have an engine!!!! I retorted that how does that make any difference to them. All they should be interested in is the toll, which i was willing to pay, but he wont listen. an elaborate talk with his supervisor also didn't bring us to the negotiating table. I could have moved on despite his refusal but that wretched 'orange jacket' fellow had a walkie-talkie and I have heard that DND is often patrolled!
Dejected, i retreated. I had to go all the way to 'sarai kale khan' to take the Nzamuddin bridge for Noida, under a sun, as furious as I was at that time.( I am not complaining, by the way, I am just letting you know the state of affairs)
Can u now contemplate the sorry state of cyclist in Delhi, the capital of this great nation, where all the major policy decisions are taken. Can u see the gap between what we aspire to do and what we actually do.
Instead of giving cyclists a share of the forex earned from the sale of Carbon Credits they are punished for using one. Go Green ?? that's one more feather in the hat of "the Great Indian Hypocrisy".
Thank you

yours truly
Gaurav Jain
Cyclist
New Delhi

A defence colony experience

2010-02-23T22:03:00.001+05:30

On the roads, ordinary men walk
rich men either jog or
in their Mercs, they talk
not to a human but to a dog.
how come they get so rich,
I wonder;
work their a**es off or
a god's blunder.
they live in swank palaces; I marvel
with security as high as Z level
like a destitute..., I glare
"10 years hence, will I be there"?
with enough money to buy a 'Land Rover'
But, is that what I really aspire?
get rich, marry, sire n expire?
naah.., that would be a nightmare.
I would rather prefer
to be a mediocre,
if I could bring a difference,
in the lives
of the children at the gate of the temple,
with innocent expectant eyes.

The day when I enjoyed being alone: a trip to SurajKund

2010-02-17T03:26:00.000+05:30

Monday, 15 Feb
Hi friends,
I wouldn’t have been able to come up with this post in the first place if I hadn’t read this article about ‘how to enjoy being single’. I had almost scrapped my plan to visit “Surajkund Mela” but when I read this article I really saw great opportunities lying ahead of me (most of which eventually came to be true!) and my hopes got a fresh life almost like a phoenix.
I called my friend Lokesh to get an idea of the place and how to reach there. (For the information, he is the one who first visited the mela and shamelessly praised it to such an extent that it kindled an insatiable desire in me, so strong that I went there braving all odds; rainy weather, injured toe, classes at college and only my backpack to accompany me).

The Surajkund Crafts Mela is organized annually by the Haryana Tourism Department from 1st till 15th Feb. This delightful handloom and handicrafts fair is planned every year to promote the traditional Indian Handicrafts in rural ambience at Surajkund in the vicinity of New Delhi. The fair was first time organized in 1981 and since then the fair continues to be a strong platform for Indian artists and craftsmen to display their skilled crafts and art work. The whole preparation of the fair is done, keeping a particular state in mind. Every year a new state is chosen as the theme and the entire decoration is changed accordingly and The colorful state of Rajasthan was chosen as the theme for the Surajkund Crafts Mela 2010, which was also the theme for the fair in the year 1989. Surajkund is surprisingly close to Delhi; a ten minutes ride in an auto from Badarpur Border (I hope u know where it is, if not, google it!). However a frickin jam at badarpur border ate up very precious time of mine but for the first time in my life I had spare time for such eventualities. I finally was at the grand and archaic but an Ad hoc entry gate of the 24th Surajkund Craft Mela. The moment I brought out a 50 Rs. note from my back pocket to buy the entry ticket, it started drizzling faintly. I almost thought of snatching it back from the cashier and wait for the drizzle to stop but then dropped the idea!

Surajkund mela has a very unique rustic charm in itself, far too superior than any of these plush malls can give you, and something which can only be experienced when you are in the environment. I entered and almost instantly could smell the aroma of ‘gaon ki mitti’ . To be very honest, I couldn’t fathom the grandness of the fair in the first look. At 4’O clock, it seemed like I had an eternity to see the mela which soon was going to be proved wrong. On my right there were stalls featuring emboss painting and jute bags, brass metal work and jewellery crafted from sea-shells. The sea-shell necklaces were simply amazing and a fellow buyer’s confirmation dispelled all the doubts I had about their authenticity (after all she seemed quite knowledgeable!). On moving ahead, I was really thrilled after spotting a huge and strategically placed stall of Hindustan Latex Limited. I could only guess how busy that stall would have been on the Valentine’s Day and all the other ‘fabricated’ days before it!! The Massiveness of the mela was now becoming clearer to me but still it was in infancy. It offered a platform to some really cool and talented but anonymous painters of the country however, their anonymity didn’t stop them from asking prices, as high as $12,000 haa, I am kidding, its only Rs. 12,000 for few of their paintings which I struggled hard to comprehend in the first place!!!
Let me tell you an insider’s information. Whatever other people might say that the mela primarily caters to women and almost everything on display is meant for girls (n their moms), I have a strong view that it’s a men oriented mela; it only depends on what ‘stuff’ you are looking at – the one on display at stalls or the one moving around in search of that stuff from one stall to another.
There was so much verity and so much yet to explore that I was kind of making a mental note of all the interesting things I was spotting at various stalls so that if I didn’t find anything superior to it, I can get back and buy it. After all, if I buy the stuff right away thinking it to be the best, I run the risk of “Opportunity loss”, in case I find something better later (I am doing an MBA, you see).
There were stalls selling shawls crafted manually and then there were few others selling carpets, creative wooden furniture, bangles and stuff made from glass, marble etc. You name it and you have it there. Handicrafts of some of the states showcased at the Surajkund Crafts Mela are:
Banjara and Bunni embroidery of Gujarat
Phulkari embroidery of Punjab
Lace and crochet from Goa
Sandalwood and rosewood carving of South India
Kantha work of West Bengal and North Eastern states
Chikan work of Lucknow
Chikri woodcraft of Kashmir.
However, it was not all about stalls and shopping. It was and out and out fun atmosphere. What you call – A total package. A rajasthani folk dance group was performing at one place right in front of a massive stone sculpture towering easily up to 20-25 feet. I was enjoying the performance from a height and from there I realized the grandness of the event for the 1st time and felt the crunch of speeding up my excessive ogling at each stall.
On my left I could see the pavilion for International representations; Egypt, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Nepal, Bhutan etc to name a few. I really liked the stall of Tajikistan not because they had some exceptionally beautiful artifacts for display on the counter but for the beauty behind that! I was pleasantly surprised when she started talking with a lady in her highly accented hindi which sounded music to my ears!! For 5 or 6 minutes I was just standing there faking to be a connoisseur of precious stones and talking silly stuff but then I realized that there is a whole world yet to be explored.
Soon I found myself in the Food Court – the heaven of real delicacies primarily from North India. I could have missed everything but the Rajasthani Specialties. I guess, taste developed in early years somehow stick with you. I find Rajasthani taste my very own, closer to me than Dilli ka Zayka; courtesy my Grandma who hails from the state. I realized that you don’t need to be super rich to enjoy life; all you need is a 20 Rupee note! Because that will fetch you a plate of kadhi Kachauri – pure bliss, Period. I was wondering why the hell people were thronging on the chow mein and fast food stalls which they can get anywhere. I savored the taste and moved on to explore the uncharted territory which was still abound.
Few things really impressed me in the mela – the tight security, the neat and organized layout, Clear and regular public announcements, great artwork by painters and sculptors, cheap and very creative jewellery and but of course, the crowd.
If you thought that the mela was all about cheap stuff, think again. There was a dedicated Designers Gallery for the minority with fat pockets and refined taste. One store featured designer showpieces made from Silver and one such artwork, almost my size, containing floral patterns was worth Rs 6, 40,000. Believe it! Surajkund owes its name and perhaps its very existence to an ancient amphitheatre sun pool ('Kund') dating back to the 10th century but alas, the ‘kund’ was dry! At 6PM, I was at the other end of the mela and now it was time for me to trace back and enjoy things which I accidentally missed out in the first go or liked so much that I planned to revisit, if time permitted. But by this time, I had seen so much that I was getting confused where to go first and what to buy. Variety does spoil you.
Can you guess where I made my first return visit?? Oh, damn. You are always right; to the stall from Tajikistan!!!! But I saw something even more fascinating there. There were two little kids (maybe 2-3 yrs old), probably siblings (I suppose). They were playing while their family members were busy shopping. But then out of nowhere, the slightly taller kid kissed the other one so affably and openly that it brought a smile on my face ear to ear which remained for the rest of the day. Thanks kids.

I was feeling hungry yet again and what I saw just accentuated my hunger pangs by the order of two. Have you ever heard of a Rs. 40 Jalebi (I am talking of a single jalebi here)? No. I tasted it at the stall of Lala Maturam, (promoting diabetes since 1956!). When they say “size does matters”, they are right. The size of the jalebis was immense; bigger that a DVD and as thick as the middle finger and the ‘chashni’ was oozing out of it when I took a bite like blood from the head of slain dog on the road. My soul was craving for more but the stomach has got a limit (unfortunately).

I now wanted to just lay back and relax and incidentally there were some cultural performances to enjoy while I recline. A troop from Tajikistan gave a scintillating performance of their regional dance which was being covered live and broadcasted on a big screen at the other end of the mela. I also enjoyed the dance of a group from Gujarat which actually descended from an African tribe. But the festivities were interrupted by the boring formalities like govrnor’s speech and other felicitations. I used this time to do some shopping. I bought a fancy bead belt and a fancy kada (obviously it wasn’t for me if you are thinking so. For myself, I bought a fake Gucci leather wallet for 100 bucks, incredible na!). The penultimate performance was Radha-Krishna Leela. they enthralled everyone with the shower of flower-petals over the spectators. I was craving for more of such VIP treatment. With the last performance of Mahishasur-vadh (massacre of Mahishasur), the mela was formally declared to be over by the governor of Haryana although the crowd seemed unwilling to leave the place so soon. People were busy in the last moment shopping spree, taking advantage of great discounts. I did the same as well and bought a white stone necklace for my mom.
Before I moved out, I spared 5 more minutes to take a quick dekko of the entertainment section of the mela (although the entire mela was an entertainment extravaganza), decked with all the adventure rides like giant wheel, Columbus and other fun games.
The rain gods were kind to us because it only started to drizzle again when the mela was over. With the bead-belt around my waist, the white stone necklace around my neck and spirit of surajkund all around me like a halo, I got in the auto to return to my place where my friends just couldn't hold their hysterical laugh when they saw me wearing that necklace and the belt. you see, the sun sets but the fun never ends when you are upbeat. I will eagerly wait for the next edition of SurajKund mela; what else can I say. till then Good By.

Chandni Chowk to 'Jannat'

2010-02-03T03:45:00.000+05:30

30 jan, Saturday

Let me begin with the words of Mr. G. Bose, whom I respect more for his sense of humor than his quizzing acumen (not to mean in any way that he isn’t a good quizmaster). He says, “Don’t sit with long faces in a Quiz because at the end of the day, Quizzing is meant to be a fun event.” His words never felt to be truer than today when one of our quizzing endeavors turned into a delectable extravaganza.

On Saturday, we were supposed to participate in a Quiz at DIAS, Rohini (Delhi institute of advanced studies). Well, cutting a long story short, we were out of the quiz before we could even begin it because the prelims round was no less than the GATE examination with all the crappy textbook questions related to ‘hard-core’ IT. Although, we were told that it was a ‘Business and IT quit’, the question paper had no business with ‘Business’. We didn’t even care about the participation certificate which they had promised to give to all and sundry as if it wasn’t a quiz but an earthquake relief camp and the certificates were packets of bread!!

We were a pack of 5 hungry ‘Grey’ Hounds (Nitin, Raunak, Sonali, Vijay and I), who, after reaching the Rithala Metro station were contemplating intensely which place to attack. Subhash Place, a nearby market- ruled out. CP – ruled out. Aaaaanh… Chandani Chowk. Bingo. That’s the place to go. Although the idea was initially resisted by Sonali, citing the reasons like how crowded it gets on weekends in Chandni Chowk, it was taken care of by Nitin with his animated description of the yummy ‘Natraj ke Bhalle’. He made those bhalles so irresistible that I could almost visualize how great it would feel when I’ll taste them. I was tempted and so was everyone else. Now even if we had to swim across the sea of people anticipated to be at Chandni Chowk, we would. If I put it this way, Nitin really sold us ‘Chandni Chowk’; only he didn’t get any commissions for that!

After an hour, we were at Chandni Chowk and as we had expected, we could see innumerable people of different shapes and sizes all around us. There were so may people in those narrow lanes that it was tough to imagine that it takes 9 months to make each one of them!!! To add to the misery, all kinda stalls, thelas, and patris have mushroomed throughout the length of almost all the roads in Chandni chowk, selling myriad stuffs. One hawker was selling a unique product, a ‘non-fusable’ bulb, enticing passers-by to take a dekko at his bulb with a non-stop audio advertisement and to save the expense on a sound system he was using his crass voice to do the job. There were shoes on sale for as low as 100 bucks; in fact each and every thing which u may need in your daily life was available at throw away prices. A girl at my back was saying to her friend with extreme astonishment, “yar itni bhid maine aaja tak nahin dekhi”. In my mind I replied to her, “Welcome to Chandni Chowk”.

Our mission was Natraj ke Bhalle but we didn’t know the way. With the generous help of people around us we finally arrived at our destination. There was a swarm of people at the shop. “Holy shit, this shop is horribly popular”. I couldn’t see any hope of getting those bhalles until evening. Only when we got closer I realized that the people were not thronging for the bhalle but they were coming out of a 3 feet wide alley just next to the shop!! That alley seemed to me like a conveyor belt in a pharma company and those people were dropping down that belt like Paracetmol tablets; millions and millions of tablets. Raunak and I braved the crowd to order 5 plates of bhalle. well, the bhalle were simply amazing and truly delicious. I decided to convert to Hedonism there and then, i.e the pursuit of pleasure in life. Our taste buds were not satiated but we couldn’t just had only bhalle all the way so we tried the ‘tikki’ as well and I must say, even if for the sake of repetition that they were mouth watering as well. The famous “paranthe wali gali” was in front of us and only a moron wouldn’t like to enter this gali; a brand in its own. And there we were, on the steps of the shop single-handedly responsible for the christening of the street as it is known today. The owner had proudly displayed the archival photos of Jawar Lal Nehru, Indira Gandhi, and Lal Bahadur Shastri having a gala time at the historic shop. The shop was packed to capacity and few more were in queue; our turn was nowhere near and to kill time, we were looking at the 2 meter long menu displayed at the entrance, enlisting some wacky paranthas, easily assignable to the category of “highly endangered species”!! Some of them which I could recall were karela parantha, kishmish parantha, kaju parantha, rabri parantha & papad parantha to name a few. These, mind you, weren’t ordinary paranthas. They were being prepared in desi ghee. The word to watch out here is ‘in’. Yes, the ghee wasn’t merely dabbed on the surface of the parantha, the way our mom cooks for us; rather, they were literally drenched in the ghee. By the time our turn came, enough excitement and craving had developed in us to wipe out 7 paranthas and Rabri (a sweet made from milk) only complimented the awesome paranthas.

Our stomach was almost touching its full capacity but our tongue was still ‘flickering’ like the tongue of a snake, craving for more flavors of Chandni Chowk. They say that ‘man is a slave to his stomach’. Well I would like to differ. We are actually slave to our ‘tongue’ and more precisely – Taste buds. So the five ‘Slaves’ now moved on for some more gratification towards the mecca of non-vegetarians – Karim’s Hotel, famous in the entire galaxy!! To reach Karim’s we had to first get to Jama Masjid, the biggest mosque in India. It was a long way to go with plenty of flavors, waiting for us to be tasted. We couldn’t resist the Jalebis from which ‘chaashni’ was dripping so profusely like saliva drips from the mouth of a rabid dog! Although many branches of Karim Hotel have come up throughout NCR, the original Karim Hotel, near Jama Masjid is still termed as the best. Their tagline, “the secret of good mood, the taste of karim’s food” says it all. If you think that you would be able to spot Karim Hotel in the Gali Kababian (ya, that’s what they call that street!!), you are mistaken. You can only spot a 2’by 3’ board and that too if you are careful enough, directing you into a narrow alley which opens into Karim’s hotel. Karim Hotel is, unexpectedly, quite spacious from inside and the interiors are suave as well as classic. However, if you happen to be a vegetarian, its strictly advised not to even think of visiting Karim’s because either you won’t remain a vegetarian afterwards or you would kill yourself for being a vegetarian soon after. Only a few brave-hearts like me survive that 3^rd degree mental torture. While my non-veg friends ordered ‘Mutton Barra’, Vijay and I ordered ‘Paneer tikka’ and ‘sheermaal’(a kinda bread with half the thickness of pizza base). Even the veg stuff was tastier than most places where I had it before ( At least this +ve attitude saved me from going into depression for not being a non-vegetarian because I must tell you, the aroma of the Mutton Barra was fabulous). We couldn’t stuff ourselves with anything more now without running the risk of a ‘backfire’ (but we still took the ‘saunf’, because it was free!!!). It was 5 in the evening, time to give our body some rest. So we called it a day and head back to the overcrowded metro station.

All in all, it was a trip that redefined ‘taste’ for me (and many of us, I believe). There have been instances when I have tasted some really fabulous preparations but so many exquisite flavors in one single day; never. Don’t just read man, shut down now and catch the next metro to this “Jannat of zayka” and become a slave………a slave to your taste buds.

A Fast for a cause

2010-01-24T12:41:00.000+05:30

23 Jan 09

Well, you may argue that a fast is always voluntary but in India, people fast, not because they genuinely want to but for the sake of practice, convention or to please some god/goddess for their sly and selfish motive. A girl (majority wins!) on fast is no less than a mine of gloom for she is never happy about the fact that she is on fast. When asked why she is not having the Almond fudge while rest of her friends are, she will invariably reply in the gravest possible way that, “yar, I’m on fast” (don’t get startled if she pouts. On few occasions, tears may accompany the reply as well!). Few others are smart souls and they have found loopholes in the system. I have seen people binging frivolously while on some ‘religious fast’ for they are only prohibited to consume cereal, rest everything they can relish with delight.

And due to this very reason, I have always considered fast like a ‘fast’ girl; someone, with whom you should always keep ‘safe’ distance. (the specifications of ‘safe’ varies!)

But today, on getting up ‘accidentally’ early in the morning and finding nothing to do with the enormous amount of ‘extra’ time that I suddenly got, I decided to go to the gym. Not only can I exercise there but catch some glimpses of TV as well. This might sound to you as exaggeration but those glimpses for me are as fortuitous as a sight of a ‘female’ (not necessarily human!!) in a Boys Hostel.

But today those glimpses were saying a different story. The News channel was showing the videos of the aftermaths of Haiti Earthquake at Port-au-prince.

The videos were startling to say the least; there is an utter chaos in Haiti with the return of ‘the jungle rule’ with a bang. The few ‘stray lions’ were looting the relief material meant to be distributed among everyone. People were stabbing each other, well, not exactly with knife but with very pointed and thick sticks. I saw two men carrying a gunny bag of wheat which they had pilfered from the relief material. Thefts and loots have risen so much that relatively rich citizens of Haiti have opted to leave the island.

I realized how precious food has become suddenly; more precious than a human’s life. And here at home, we have so much to eat. (When I say home, I didn’t mean India because in that case, we are the one who ‘proudly’ boast of millions who go to bed, well not exactly bed, without food.

India

is the home to the largest population of malnutrition children and hunger is still a graver cause of death than many dreaded disease.)

However, the fact that I have always got the kind of food that satisfies not only my ‘fastidious’ taste buds but my ‘progressive’ appetite as well from the day I started eating till this date without any break or holiday (gazetted or restricted), I might have taken food for granted and hence can’t appreciate the fact that I am among those fortunate ones who can still enjoy other pleasures of life rather than thinking about the whereabouts of their next meal.

But to realize the value of food and to empathize with the Quake survivors of Haiti, I decided not to take food for the remaining part of the day, lunch and dinner to be precise. Well that’s because I couldn’t have relinquished the breakfast. I had milk and roasted grams already with me and not taking them would be like demeaning the food which was contrary to my purpose.

It’s late in the night when I am writing it down and till now it’s going pretty fine apart from occasional hunger pangs, abdominal twinges, loud burps with expulsion of enormous gas generated due to under-utilization of alimentary canal, weird sounds orchestrated by stomach muscles which resemble the typical sound of the famous game of Mario when he gains the size! (Well, if u can’t recall, play Mario once again!) and profuse salivation whenever I happen to see (or even hear) Chaat-papdi, pizza, popcorns or Parle G. A really tough and equally ironical situation arose when I visited the Gurdwara at Sector 18, Noida. After offering my prayers I was sitting inside the gurdwara along with other people to absorb some calmness of the place. But within few seconds, I was hypnotized by an intoxicating aroma of the halwa which is distributed there as Prasad. It was so hallucinating that it changed my thought process within no time. Now I was thinking that I should take the ‘prasad’ for it will bring all the blessings of ‘Vaheguru’. Ironically, in my prayers I asked for the strength to hold on to my debut fast. To make a bad situation worse, they started distributing the Prasad (generally you yourself have to go and ask for it). Fortunately I got out of the trance in time, bowed once again and made a quick exit while asking for forgiveness for not accepting the Prasad. Well, it’s still a debatable topic whether I should have accepted the Prasad or not but I did what I felt right at that moment. Rest of the journey was easy although I had to lie to my mom that I won’t take the dinner as I have already had Chinese at some fancy restaurant in CP with some friends. I presumed that she wouldn’t probably understand the reason of my fast if I tell her the truth. Nevertheless, she could smell something fishy and asked me at around 10 that whether I would like to eat. You can’t simply dodge your mother.

I know it perfectly that my fast would not make any substantial difference in the life of any Haitian nor will it replenish the acute shortage of food in that quake hit island. It was merely a symbolic gesture to tell the Haiti people that in these arduous days, you are not alone; we can understand your sufferings and will always be there to help you, if not physically then emotionally.

Thanks for giving it a read and I would love to read about your own ways to convey your message to Haitians.

expedition to the shivaliks: Simla & Manali

2010-01-05T23:22:00.000+05:30

hi friends,

since I had a lot to tell you but didn't want to make it a long, never ending novel, therefore, I have written each day as a different post. you can read anyone in any order coz each day had something different and unforgettable to offer.

to experience the chilling winter on the first day in simla click here

to read about even crazier second day in simla read here

to travel to manali without spending a penny, book your tickets here

I hope you have a great journey!!

The train to Chandigarh

2009-12-25T14:44:00.000+05:30

Date: 25^th December

Occasion: Christmas

Mission: to celebrate the Christmas in Chandigarh

Modus Operandi: to board the train from Old Delhi Railway station at 8’O clock.

Everything was going smooth. The previous day, I gathered everything I could ever need for our trip to Shimla via Chandigarh. But did someone say that there is some snag in the plan? Yes, train at 8’O clock, which means, I had to get up as early as 5:30 in the morning; very easy for you humans, but an uphill task for us nocturnal species.

I guess the 1^st mantra of management is ‘Prioritize’ which, unfortunately, I never learned. Instead of packing my bags and sleeping early, I hooked on to my lappy. I am telling you, this facebook , Orkut, Gtalk and Gmail are highly addictive; once logged in it takes oodles of courage to log out. However, these are the normal addictive drugs but the ‘baap’ of all of them, the online-cocain, is Blogging (at least for me).

I was in a trance, thanks to this drug and never realized that it was 2’O clock in the morning. Now I started packing my bags but was too confused and sleepy and after some initial spurts, I just left it and thought it would all be done in the morning (as if Santa would come in the night to pack my bags). I slept at 3:15 and as I had requested to my friend loki; he called me up at 5:30 in the morning. Hardly any sleep. I should have got up but what to do when someone himself isn’t ready to leave a cozy and warm blanket. I get up at 6:05, finally, but it was too late then, I guess (and now I know, as well). At 6:55, I receive a call from loki that he is boarding the metro, but I was hardly ready by then, and I am not talking about the bag-packing here.

I was 7:30 and I was only at the metro station near my place. The hopes had almost died but showing exemplary ‘never say die’ attitude I was constantly communicating with my friends that I will reach there but chilled water was poured in the boiling oil of my enthusiasm and optimism when the metro stopped, twice, in between its otherwise smooth journey for some unknown reasons, she said “there will be a ‘short’ delay in the journey, the inconvenience is regretted”. My crying heart was not ready to take that consolation. When I reached CP to change the metro for Chandni chowk, it was already 8:07. I was in the metro and I got a call; it was loki. He inform me that the train is still waiting for me (he he) at the platform. It was a real energizer, more potent than Glucon-D! I felt like barging into the driver’s chamber and give him a slap on the back of his neck to drive faster. I finally reached the chandni chowk station and I rushed out, the way a racehorse plunges out of its box or whatever it’s called. The train was still at the platform. I was on the stairs going towards the old Delhi station when finally I received the heartbreaking news which I dreaded the most. The train woke up from its snooze and with every passing moment, the train accelerated, while my legs kept on losing the momentum and energy till I reached a standstill. I dropped my bag and just kept staring at the departing metro. I just couldn’t think of what to do now. I surely didn’t want to go to Chandigarh in a bus all alone. And the most frustrating part was, I couldn’t blame anybody for it. God tried his best because the train was supposed to leave at 8 but it stopped after starting once and moving some 100-200 m, as told by my friend but even god can extend his help to some extent only. But mine was a case of gross carelessness and casual approach.

Like a dethroned king, I came back to the same station from where I started this misadventure where a fine of Rs 10 was waiting for me. Yani, khaya piya kuch nahin, gilas toda, 12 anna.

There have been many instances in my life where I have been able to make things possible at the eleventh hour; I guess I am still not out of those hallucinations and hence paying a heavy price (I am not taking of the train ticket or metro fare here). And to be very honest, this was not the first eye opener but I guess my eyelids are quite heavy which keeps dropping down!! I just hope that this incident is the final episode of a very long, irritating and depressing soap opera and I learn something form it.

Advice to the youth

2009-12-21T23:46:00.000+05:30

hi friends
well, it's not always advisable to do an emotional atyachar on you with my crazy life-instances in tuti-futi english; so this time I thought to let you enjoy a real treat of humor from non other than the undisputed king of humor and witticism, Mark Twain. Read the article "Advice to youth" here..http://grammar.about.com/od/classicessays/a/adviceyouth.htm

my life: Youth Nexus – Part 1

2009-12-21T23:38:00.000+05:30

my life: Youth Nexus – Part 1

Youth Nexus – Part 1

2009-12-19T14:25:00.000+05:30

Hi friends,

It's said that man is a social animal but I guess the 'social' part is missing in me and hence it can be concluded that I am more of an 'Animal' than a human being. Somewhere down the line, I knew, I have to pay the price of being not a part of a group, a set of people I can call my own and I guess, today was the day when I realized it in a bitter way, when I asked, not less then 12 people, to accompany me to Youth Nexus 09 at North Campus and all of them declined unanimously, except Amit who showed some interest but it was too late then, for him to convert that feeble interest in boiling zeal.

But I was sure of one thing; I didn't want to turn a deaf ear to my heart's craving just because there's no friend to accompany me. I thought it would still be loads of fun. I know, it's bullshit for most of you to even think on those lines but I guess, I am a bull (animal) and I do a lot of shitty things!! Also, I didn't want to lose a wonderful opportunity to enjoy mind-blowing (and eardrum shattering as well) music, meet some crazy and fun loving people ( 'Bird watching' goes without saying) and collect enough masala to write a blog (hehe).

So, after an unsuccessful attempt to convince Amit, I picked my Activa and zoomed to my flat. Earlier I thought to park it at the metro station to save time but later changed my mind. I went to my flat, became a bit informal, googled the exact location of the fest and left for the station. unfortunately, Murphy's Law worked this time and the metro eluded me when I was about to catch the escalators for the platform and the next one came after a good 15 min; it felt like 15 hours to me b'coz I was running short of time. It was already 7 and the official time of the fest was till 8 PM (hey, I am not doing a surrogate Ad for the very famous daru here).

After much hustle and bustle, I reached the vishvavidyalaya metro station. From there I took a bus for the venue (I googled it after all, so that I don't have to depend on the auto/rikshaw walas). In the bus I met with the General secretary of Zakir hussain college who helped me to get to the place through a short-cut (I bet, even google wouldn't be knowing that !!) If my memory serves me right, I explore that place (shakti nagar) for the first time (and I am a delhite!!).

Now, I could hear the electric guitars and see the dancing lights in the sky. I was close and the next thing I can recall is, 'Them Clones' performing on a much larger and sexier stage, with much better sound Quality and a fantastic laser light show in the backdrop, adding zing to their performance. The electric guitar's sound is very intoxicating indeed. It hypnotizes you, if I can put it that way and the rest it automatic. You start feeling the vibe and the mood starts building. The next band was, the very Indian but truly international, Parikrama. It's a band which I can compare with salad (lolz); it's fabulous when consumed as a whole but the ingredients still maintain their individuality and are unique in their own way. The vocalist, lead guitarist, bass guitarist, violinist and everyone comes in the front to give a taste of their raw talent and capabilities (except drummer and keyboard player of course!). I really envy the lead guitarist for his guitar skills and his incredibly long hair! But unfortunately, their performance was ephemeral; hardly 3-4 songs and they didn't even obliged the crowd's and the emcee's request of 'one last song'.

But it wasn't something to mull upon because a lot of thing including 'Fashion show', DJ Sumit and RDB's live performance was scheduled for the next day i.e 19th dec.

But unlike most of the North Campus fests, there were hardly any girls (the concept of HOT or NOT comes only later!) in that ground which was as smooth as sensex! Nevertheless, I came to know that Kailash kher is coming to SRCC on 22nd during conversation with few SRCC guys over there.

U think it's over? Hey, the fun has just begun, at least for me. When I came out of the ground, I met with the guys from my college, ABS, Amity; viz. Jaggi, Aashish, Puneet, Gagan and surender, and together we went to CP to have some food and loads of fun. Let me introduce jaggi to you. well, he's been placed with TVS with a whopping package (for Amity standards) of 6 Lacs and one more identification which he earned that day was, his phone got stolen in the metro and he was quite happy about it except some fleeting moments of afsos.

Although at our age, guys hardly have any liking for milk, but we were different and I guess the difference paid coz the milk was fantastic, bole to ekdum faad. Next we went to Subway and then we barged into KFC. The ambience of KFC, I must say, was fantabulous; I just kept looking at it to get ideas and inspiration, in case I get into retailing.

It was already 10.30 by then and the danger of missing the last metro started creeping in so we decided to get down to the metro station to avoid any further hassles. At the metro station, I noticed a change which was heartwarming. Dilli ke log insaan ban gaye hai! Ya, they were standing in a queue at the corners of the stainless-steel railings, making way for the passengers to get down first. The important word is ‘first’, it is an unprecedented gesture if dilliwalas to let anyone get down first and control the irresistible urge of grabbing that ‘peacock throne’ which is lying vacant in front of the eyes but only for a billionth of a second and if he misses that once in a travel-time opportunity he has to keep standing in one of the stance of ‘kuchchipudi’ dance with one hand up (holding the handle) and the other at the back (prob. Holding the pole) and with only one leg bearing the entire weight of the body while the other one relaxing with the knee protruded and the heel raised. Fortunately, Most of us got the seats except few who preferred standing and with plans to meet the next day as well, I bid adieu to all my friends.

I believe most of us have seen the video of steve jobs’ speech at Stanford in 05. In his address, he said that, “you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in the future…. Because believing that the dots will connect will give you the confidence to follow your heart even when it leads you off the well worn path; and that will make all the difference”. By ‘dots’ he meant the decisions you take in life.

What he said was relating to career, to life. I am a lesser mortal and so, I associate those deep words with the outrageous and sometimes, crazy things I do. But anyhow, I followed my heart and that had made all the difference.

Thank you

(and ya, you can still catch the fun because nothing is lost yet. Make your own plans or give me a buzz. And I would appreciate your comments on the blog)

Pandora's Box of Pandara road

2009-12-09T01:44:00.000+05:30

So, we gracefully moved out of that beautiful black hole, which, if we had stayed any longer, would have sucked all the ‘gandhijis’ we had.

-----------rest of the story runs in flashback (just like a hindi movie) -----------------

We were a group of ten friends, meeting first time in Delhi after a hilarious and adventurous time in Dehradun, where we spent 5 unforgettable days of our life together, during the SSB interviews for selection in the Indian Air Force. And, one of our gang members, Ravi, did made the final cut notwithstanding the cutthroat competition. Therefore, it was our prerogative now, to have a party to celebrate his success. He agreed to it but he wanted to give it in delhi; only later we came to know that his birthday was impending too, smart chap!

So on his Birthday (I don't know the exact day though) we all gathered at his house in Lodhi Colony. We were all brainstorming about the various options we had in the nearby area to have a good lunch and spend the rest of the day doing bhag*****, when suddenly, one of my friend, Rahul, suggested that pandara road has some really cool restaurants. Most of us really had no idea of Pandara road and as far as the quality of the restaurants over there goes, we were as expert as Katrina Kaif in Acting! And therefore we blindly trusted what Rahul said and like a pack of wild dogs, we all started to march towards Pandara Road, probably sniffing the aroma emanating from the swanky restaurants of that road. In CP and the adjoining VVIP area, you happen to see so many big names engraved or embossed on silver or golden colored name plates that you really don't mind walking.

With tottering legs, we finally reached Pandara Road. We chose to give the honor of our auspicious presence to the restaurant with the name "Gulati's", again on rahul's ‘expert advice’. The Ambience of "Gulati's", I must say, was stupendous and very calming, perfect to have a late night dinner with your girlfriend but strictly not for a gang of 10 rowdy lads for whom finesse is something they least bother and would never-ever like to pay to enjoy. While absorbing the cool and refreshing atmosphere as much as we could by taking a 360 degree view of the plush and brightly lit restaurant, we grabbed a table, large enough for all of us to sit. We were smiling, giggling, laughing and twittering (we were not tweeting from our mobiles, in case you thought so!!). In fact we were the loudest in the gathering, even louder than the soft music which was making the ambience even more conducive to calmness before we barged in! But sadly, the waiters couldn't tolerate our happiness and so they slapped us with the menu cards with utmost courtesy. Well, actually they were not Menu cards, they were Pandora’s Box; the moment we opened them, all the miseries and evils flew out to afflict us. We were blown away. We couldn't have imagined those exorbitant prices in the wildest of our dreams; moreover we had the impression that “gulati’s” is reasonably priced, courtesy, Rahul. We were looking at each other with a weird smile and then looking back in the menu, hoping to stumble upon a preparation which would prove to be an island of hope in the ocean of despair. But, alas! All our efforts were to no avail. It was dead sure that if all the ‘hungry lions’ decide to feast over there in the same ravaging fashion as any real African lion would, the birthday boy would surely lament coming to pandara road and curse his own birthday.

But then a very strange thing happened. Ankit, one of the friends, got a call on his cell. He picked it in a hurry and moved out of the restaurant. What a smooth finisher! Oh, another call, this time it was ankur’s turn. Interestingly, their phones didn’t ring and I doubt that anyone would keep his phone in silent mode in a restaurant; we were not there for a corporate meet for god’s sake. Soon it was clear that it was just a trick to move out of the ‘dungeon’, never to return. The series of calls didn’t end there only; two more calls came in succession which inevitably culminated in the departure of the proud owner of the phone. I guess, even the mobile signals were shying from entering the “gulati’s”, which is why they had to move out! Through the transparent door we could see them smoking and laughing at us hysterically. We six were probably bitten by the ‘courtesy’ bug and just couldn’t stand up without ordering anything after sitting fro so long on their beautiful and cushy chairs and raising their expectations sky high. To save the blushes, we hesitantly called upon a waiter and ordered 5 soft drinks and 1 juice. This was the least priced item we could find in that richly decorated and glazed menu card. Even this meager order was above Rs 600, if I am not wrong. Ravi’s entire birthday budget would have been ransacked by ‘gulatiji’ (because lunch was still due, cold drinks don’t equate to shahi paneer and laccha parantha afterall), if rahul’s conscience wouldn’t have risen out of a deep slumber. He offered to pay for the order with his credit card because he was the only working guy among us. I guess his act was a sort of ‘pashchataap’ for bringing us in that 5 star restaurant (from our standards, it was) and putting the b’day boy in a tight spot. But in the end, we all shared the bill among us, 100 Rs each, fine. We enjoyed the drink till the last sip. That was the best coke or whatever I ever had. The satisfaction which I received from it trickled deep down my bones (although it’s said that cold drinks are harmful for bones!). I smirked and so did others. We nodded in unison, a sign that it was time to move out; after all, our four friends were eagerly waiting to lay ‘red carpets’ for us. They had simply gone crazy, laughing madly on us for keeping sitting inside and not doing something creative to get out. We countered them with how great the atmosphere was inside and how many beautiful faces we saw inside which, obviously, they missed. But whatever it was, we were all having the time of our life and a laugh of our lifetime. And ya, if you are thinking, what happened to the lunch, so lemme tell you, we had an amazing dinner at a desi hotel in CP which didn’t have very pleasing ambience but very tasty food. Yummy!!!

You see, embarrassing moments have two good things about them. You can always laugh about them later and ya, you can write a blog about it.