Ember and ash, that is left of everything you knew,
Burning faster with anger, as the winds blew.
It burned up the tears, and the joy and the sorrows,
All emotions, even the deepest ones hidden in burrows.
The ego, and the grudges and the red book that held them,
It ate up all, including your pride and the little game.
It killed what is left of you, good and evil, and otherwise,
It is the genesis, and it seeds the phoenixes to rise.
And when everyone thought it was all but over,
A new life germinated, tearing up the ashened cover.
It left everything that was left behind, burning,
Beginning of the end, and a whole new beginning.
A new you, in new surroundings with new desire,
It kills, but facilitates new beginnings, the Fire.
Holy fire during a ritual.
The poem was penned by me, and looks at the end of things from the perspective of beginning of new things.
In frame: The holy fire during a ritual. I shot this frame using my 35mm Canon FTb QL manual film SLR on an Ilford HP5 Plus 400. This is the first frame from Project 35.
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
I had a friend called Max. His father was a very rich man, with a lot of money. So, on Max’s 21st b’day his father gifted him a jet plane. When Max saw it, he was very happy. As always, he threw away the user manual and got into the cockpit, and after a lot of trying, he could make the jet plane move on the road. Happy with his new found love for “driving” the jet plane, he would “drive” his jet plane to college, to meet friends and to nightclubs.
Lucky Max! Would you like to be like Max? Who wouldn’t want a rich father gifting a jet plane on birthdays.
If you think about it, we are all Maxs “driving” our jet planes around. Without understanding true potential, we “drive” around in our jet planes, rather than figuring out what the jet plane is actually capable of. The jet plane being the body and the mind.
I am talking about Yoga. But wait, isn’t Yoga about physical exercise?
Yoga is the answer
Honestly, I did not know what the question is, though! And I am glad that I did not know the question. Be it physical, metaphysical, mental or spiritual, all the roads in these dimensions converge and emerge from Yoga. Yoga or Yog in Sanskrit means “to add” or “to join”. What are we adding or joining? I will get to that.
Basically, there are four forms of Yoga. Yeah exactly, four. The Yoga you see in TVs is called “Kriyayoga”, and as the name suggests it is a set of actions. And these actions activate certain points in your physical and subconscious self. Then there are Bhaktiyoga (devotion), Gyanayoga (knowledge), Karmayoga (duty). It is only when a person does all the four Yogas in some proportion or the other (yeah, individual requirements are different), that (s)he sets in motion the harmony (answer to what we are joining or adding, from above) that propel her/him towards a higher state of being.
What can you achieve by going to a higher state of being? Well, I can’t tell you more, other than the fact that the view is nice from higher up. It will help you achieve control over things that happen to you and around you. It would mean your inner self is aligned with the outer being and the universe. You are part of everything and everything is a part of you.
My Yoga
In my case, in one way or other I was already doing the other three Yogas except Kriyayoga, subconsciously. In fact, we all do! And when I was suggested by good friend to add Kriyayoga to the mix, I gave it a try. And the results I have achieved surprise me. The results may seem insane to some. But again, sanity is a relative term. Sanity for some could be outright insanity for others.
The Kriyayoga that I do is called “Shambhavi Mahamudra”, taught by Sadhguru. I have done it for 108 days at a stretch, without fail. And I feel connected to myself and everything else around me like never before and that outcome itself is good enough. But, I am also exploring the capabilities of my body and mind (which are potentially limitless). And what 108 days these have been. Never in my life have I felt so empowered.
One piece of advice, though. Nothing undermines any form of Yoga more than doing Yoga with a specific purpose in mind. In fact, do not have any purpose at all. Let it do its own thing, and your transformation to another being will become possible in an infinite number of ways. But still, if you want to understand the tangible benefits that I derived from what I do, here are 10 of those:
Better sleep quality
Being endlessly energetic throughout the day
No need of external stimulants
Being happy all the time
Worry a lot less
Focus a lot more
Fall sick a lot less (like never!)
Observing an event from multiple point of views, simultaneously
Sharper intuition
And last, but not the least, and my favourite one at that,
Manifesting people, events and things into my life
But again, these are just the side effects, and changes that I have observed just at the surface level. The real achievement stays at a much much deeper level, and very personal at that.
When should you start?
Are you waiting for that bad time at office to get over to start Yoga? Are you waiting for your personal life to be sorted to start Yoga? May be you think you are too young to start Yoga? May be you think you are too strong to start Yoga? May be you want to experience “everything” before you embark on this path? Are you too cynical and think yoga doesn’t really help?
Well! I was waiting for that bad time to get over. I was waiting for my personal life to get sorted. I thought I was too young and strong to start Yoga (yes, I did!). I wanted to experience “everything” before I embarked on this path. And I was too cynical and really believed that Yoga doesn’t help. And, I realised that I had lost precious time thinking these. I don’t know if the things that worried me are at satisfactory level at present, because they really don’t bother me anymore.
Also, it is only wise to learn to pilot the jet plane and take off as soon as possible, rather than driving it around endlessly. No?
So, here is wishing all of you a healthy and content state of being.
Keep calm, do Yoga!
Please note: I do not have any intention of being a yoga teacher. But I can guide you to one of the best in the field. If you are keen, just drop me a message or a comment below.
In frame: My Gyanamudra
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
He made his cup of morning tea, and sat down to work on his blog. “I make awesome tea”, he thought after taking the first sip, taking pride in his tea making capabilities. He wasn’t yet done basking in his pride, he heard her voice, like every time.
And like every time, this time too her voice said, “You make horrible tea!” Lest she knew, that whenever she was around, all his attention was focused on her, and not on the tea, that he was making. And he would eventually end up spoiling the tea, every single time.
But, he had his moment of glory. It was a long two months wait for him, since she had changed her job and moved cities. When she was with him, she was a part of everything he did, every plan he made, knowingly or unknowingly. Though he had been preparing for her move, it was still painful. And after two months, he paid her a visit.
“You make good coffee!”, she said as she sipped from her cup. “Why the tea you made was atrocious every single time, when I came down to your place”. He had taken special care not to screw up the coffee this time. Giving it all the attention, even her share of his attention. And received an appreciation for it, from her, one person he valued the most. They just sat there, sipping coffee, the coffee he made. He was going back, with promises of returning soon.
That was a year back! One long year. It is strange how things normalise or seem so, over one year. Memories are in black and white they say. The only colour he could remember was that of the stain of her red lipstick on the cup.
And, only if he had known that he was seeing her for the last time, he would have screwed up the coffee too.
**END OF PART I**
Wondering what happened to her? All in good time, my friends! You got to wait for the next part, right?
Let’s call it “A tough call!”…..
/Disclaimer: A work of fiction. Any resemblance to any character living or dead is purely “coincidental”./
In frame: Moonmoon Sharma, a good friend and a talented model.
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
Today is Niladri Bije, the last day of the Rathjatra festival when the three siblings – Lord Jagannath, Devi Subhadra and Lord Balabhadra enter the temple after coming back from their annual outing to their aunt’s place. No one stops the other two siblings from entering the temple, but when Lord Jagannath approaches the temple gates, his wife Devi Lakshmi closes the gates and does not allow him to enter. She is angry with Him, as He didn’t take Her along when He went out nine days earlier. Like any other husband, Lord Jagannath has to pacify Her with gifts. And He gifts her Kheermohan, a sweet made of chhena, that somewhat looks like His eyes. The modern name of Kheermohan is Rasagola (or like Bengalis would prefer calling it, Rosogulla). Now, that I have put down facts which prove that Rasagola is infact an Odia delicacy, let us move to a rather more serious topic, that of Lord Jagannath’s origins.
“Niladri” means blue mountain in Sanskrit, and “Bije” means climbing. It is believed that the original Jagannath temple was built on a blue mountain. The current Jagannath temple was built on the same site as the original one.
After the Mahabharata, the Yadavs went extinct after killing each other in a fratricidal war. Lord Krishna had one last “leela” to take care of, before the end of the Avatar. The last “leela” had one more character – Jara, reincarnation of Angad, son of Bali from Ramayan, and a tribal hunter in his current life. Angad was given a boon in the previous life by Lord Ram, who had killed his father Bali, that he would get his chance to avenge his father’s death.
One hot afternoon, Lord Krishna was resting under the shade of a tree. Jara, who was out hunting, from behind the bushes mistook Lord Krishna’s toe for the ear of a deer, and shot an arrow. The arrow proved fatal for Lord Krishna, and the Avatar came to an end. Thus, Jara avenged his father’s death.
Image: Remains of a statue of Lord Krishna in a dilapidated building near the Ananta Padmanabha Sway temple, in Ananthagiri, Telangana, India.
Lord Krishna’s dear friend Arjun was called for His cremation. At the end of it, everything else except Lord Krishna’s heart had turned into ash. Arjun then picked up his dear friend’s heart, put it inside a neem log with Shankh (conch), Chakra (disk), Gada (mace) and Padma (lotus) symbols on it (the four symbols of Lord Vishnu, of whom boh Sri Ram and Sri Krishna were avatars), and floated it in the sea.
That piece of log with Sri Krishan’s heart in it voyaged through the sea, from Dwarka on the west coast to Puri on the east, and eventually took the form of the first Lord Jagannath. How it took the form of Lord Jagannath is a tale for another time. Wait! Did I say “first” Lord Jagannath? Does it mean that there were many Lord Jagannaths? Much to your astonishment, the answer is yes!
Every twelve to nineteen years Lord Jagannath reincarnates into a new body, in an event called Nabakalebara. During Nabakalebara, the “brahma” or the “tattva”, the life of Lord Jagannath, which is said to be the heart of Lord Krishna, is placed in a new body, and the old body is cremated. Him going through the cycles of life and death highlights the fact that everything that is here on Martyalok (as Earth is also called in Sanskrit, where death is inevitable) has to function by the rule of the land. More on Nabakalebara is also a tale for another time.
/Disclaimer: Based on legends, folklores and part fiction/
In frame: Remains of a statue of Lord Krishna in a dilapidated building near the Ananta Padmanabha Swamy temple, in Ananthagiri, Telengana, India.
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
There is hardly any lingusitic tribe in India, which relates to any particular God like Odias relate to Lord Jagannath. Being an Odia myself, I grew up in the midst of Jagannath culture. Most part of a religious Odia’s life (and majority of us are quite religious) revolves around Lord Jagannath, to the extent that the first invitation card of any auspicious occasion from an Odia household goes to Him. In even the smallest villages of Odisha, you will find a Jagannath temple, and all the rituals/festivals being observed as it happens in the Jagannath temple of Puri. Oh, and yes! For those of you unaware, it is said Odias observe thirteen festivals in a year i.e. in twelve months, and almost all of them are someway or the other related to Lord Jagannath.
Image: Lord Jagannath on his chariot Nandighosh, on His way to His aunt’s place during Rathyatra.
So, what is it with the Odias and this seemingly “physically incomplete” deity? Wait! Did I just call a God “physically incomplete”? Well, I am allowed to. Because, although his name translates to “Master of the Universe” and Kings sweep his chariot, Lord Jagannath is as much a friend to all Odias, as he is God. He inspires as a friend, philosopher and guide to every Odia in true sense, to the extent that He lives like a human, His wife fights with Him like any other man’s wife, and He also dies like a human to take birth again. And He is also known as “Patitpavan”, which translates to “He who lifts the downtrodden”.
Among all the things that Lord Jagannath is to Odias, most importantly He is the pride, He is The Odia identity. And He is the ultimate symbol of valiant resistance by this tribe against attacks and oppression by foreign invaders – from Turks to Afghans to Mughals. The Jagannath temple in Puri has been attacked twenty times, over the centuries. And the tremendous belief that Odias put on Him can not be described in simple words. Why not! I mean, no other God is accessible, like Lord Jagannath is.
When a King was marching on a mighty kingdom to the south, He answered the King’s prayers, came out and marched ahead of the King’s army, and fought on the King’s side. When a low caste devotee was not allowed inside the temple to offer his prayers, Lord Jagannath himself walked down from his temple to accept his devotee’s offering. When his favorite devotee was not allowed inside the temple because he was a Muslim, Lord Jagannath made sure that His chariot stops in front of His favorite devotee’s tomb every year during Rathyatra.
Today happens to be “Bahuda”, the day of homecoming from His annual outing to his Aunt’s place. Well, that is what Rathyatra is all about! Didn’t I tell you in the beginning that He is more human than any God can be? At the same time, Rathyatra is also about meeting all those who could not pay Him a visit at His abode. And it is said, if you see Lord Jagannath on his chariot only once, you are free from the cycle of life and death and will attain Moksh.
True Master of the Universe, don’t you think?
And what better day to start a series on Him and related tales, legends and history (which also includes that of Konark, by the way), than on the day of His homecoming. Get ready for the “Jagannath series”, all of you!
Jai Jagannath!
In frame: Lord Jagannath on His chariot Nandighosh, on the way to His aunt’s place during Rathyatra 2017. Rathyatra is also one of the largest congregation of humans in the world.
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
“Chaka aakhi sabu dekhuchi”, is a popular saying in Odia. Which translates to “Lord Jagannath sees it all”. Chaka in Odia means round, Aakhi in Odia means eyes. Notice His round eyes.
When I was in Puri last month, I had mentioned that I was planning to visit Puri during Rathyatra. Well, here is a secret! I was not planning, I had actually promised Him. 26 years were too long a gap, you see. You can read about my last month’s visit here.
Reached here in Puri, just in time to see the annual outing of the Gods, the Rathyatra of 2017. Saw Him gracefully moving towards his chariot (we call it Pahandi in Odia), with his crown (called Tahia in Odia) moving back and forth as He moved. I was quite far off when this was happening, at least couple of hundred meters, may be more. But as He appeared out of the temple main gates, the atmosphere was filled with cries of His name all around. And guess what, I am the first person from my whole family to witness it happening in front of my eyes (as confirmed by my father).
Lord Jagannath on a devotee’s t-shirt as he plays his Gini (a traditional Odia music instrument).
The energy on the Grand road (called Bada Danda in Odia) was so much, I saw people dancing for hours (you read that right!) to folk songs from all over Odisha, as well as to the tune of drums (dhol and mridang) and khanjanis (see picture to know what it is). It was like a rave party from another age. And it was as if they were drawing their energy from an eternal source, may be it was Him as He smilingly moved towards them on top his chariot. Because, what I saw there today is not humanely possible. You got to see it to believe it. And boy, was it overwhelming for me. Add to it all the people around (my estimate is half a million, at least), a perfect recipe to get disoriented (in a good way), call it trance!
There were a lot of traffic restrictions all around the town, so I walked all the way, and the last few kilometers were barefoot on the beach as the waves played hide and seek. By the time I reached back at my hotel, I must have clocked 15 kilometres, all in a days walk.
Now, as I sit in my hotel room and write this, I was thinking. How about I bring to you all the tales, legends, facts and stories about Lord Jagannath, that I know? Also, how about stories of Konark? You know that the construction of the Sun temple in Konark was related to events that unfolded in Puri, right?
So, let’s call them “Jagannath series”.
Signing off from Puri, land of Lord Jagannath!
In frame: Lord Jagannath on a devotee’s t-shirt as he plays his khanjani (a traditional Odia music instrument). You can see Him anywhere you want. You just need to look harder. And He sees you, all the time.
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
The instructions were very specific. The client wanted the knife to be extra sharp, and dipped in deadly poison. Just to be doubly sure. So that, even if the knife didn’t kill him, the poison definitely would. And it had to be on a Friday, a day Arsalan devoted completely to his God, a day he didn’t touch his weapon and wore no armor.
Arsalan, a warrior of Persian decent and a Muslim, was a general in the Vijayanagara army, Vijayanagara’s chief military strategist and commander of its famed artillery and cavalry units. A middle-aged battle hardened man, he had won many battles for Vijayanagara, with his unquestionable loyalty to the King, his valor and strategies.
He was born in Persia to an unmarried woman and was left to his own fate after his mother died. While fending for himself in the streets of Isfahan, he had heard tales of a place called Hindustan. After having saved enough, he traveled to Hindustan at the age of thirteen, and was hired by a Turkish noble as a help. Few months later, his master had taken him in a hunting expedition. This is when a Lion sneaked in to the camp on one night. He killed the lion with nothing but a knife, and he was just fourteen. This is from where he got his name – Arsalan, Turkish for lion. And he never looked back from that day on.
A man without any family, Arsalan used to be a hired hand till few years back, a commander of a group of merceneries with their loyalty only to the highest bidder. He fought many battles on the side of the highest bidder, saw many atrocities being committed in the name of religion, and God.
During his last assignment as a hired hand, he was to join the forces of the Sultan of Berar, who was mounting an expedition on an empire of infidels to the south, the Vijayanagara empire. It was on a Friday that the battle was fought. Arsalan, had never in his entire life seen such brave soldiers, the soldiers of Vijayanagara. Arsalan killed hundreds of them and they still kept coming. At the end, the army of the Sultan of Berar was defeated, and every single one of Arsalan’s merceneries were killed and he himself was grieviously wounded. Left for being dead, he was rescued by the soldiers of Vijayanagara and was taken to the capital Hampi for better treatment of his wounds. He was impressed by the fact that the Vijayanagara had citizens from all faiths, including Muslims – and was not an empire of infidels, as was being portrayed.
When he recovered, grew stronger and was ready to leave, the King requested his presence in the court. The King, who himself was impressed by Arsalan’s military tactics earlier, asked him to join the Vijayanagara army as a general, and promised him religious freedom, among other things. Arsalan couldn’t deny the offer being made by his savior. Arsalan also took a vow that he will not pick up his weapon on Fridays, as a mark of respect to the brave soldiers of Vijayanagara he had slayed on the same day, in the earlier battle.
His presence in Vijayanagara army meant that Sultan of Berar couldn’t win even an inch of land to the south. So, the Sultan had hired an assassin to get rid of him.
On that fateful Friday, while coming back from the mosque, the assassin in the guise of his bodyguard, stabbed him in the neck. Even before he could know what had happened, Arsalan was on the ground. He could see the mosque at a distance, the mosque which his infidel King had ordered to be built for him.
Slowly, the voices around him faded and he slipped into darkness…
That was the last prayer Arsalan ever offered!
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.
In frame: A low angle of the mosque inside the palace complex, in Hampi, Karnataka, India.
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
I waited there, under our pine tree,
And I went there for many more days,
Hoping you would come one day.
It was futile, I was told,
And that you would never be back.
But, I wanted to give it a try.
I wanted to give it a try,
Just so when my time comes,
I won’t feel that I did not wait enough.
And when I realized many springs later,
That you would never come,
I left there the scarf you had given me.
The scarf, my only piece of memory of you,
For it had your scent, as fresh as dew,
It was the only thing that I had of you.
As I wanted to let you know,
Just in case you showed up..
….That…
I was there…. Waiting for you!
————————————————
DISCLAIMER: Penned by yours truly, this poem is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental.
In frame: A ritualistic scarf tied to a pine tree in the Himalayas, on the way from Naitala to Guptakashi, in Uttarakhand, India. I found small temples dedicated to local Gods as well as such ritualistic things, common place in the Himalayas.
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
It was a mad rush inside the temple. And owing to my short height, it was impossible for me to have a glance at the deities, let alone having a good look. So, I tugged at my father’s shirt and asked him to pick me up and hold me in his arms so that I could take a good look. I was curious to understand what was all the fuss about these three half-finished deities sitting on that raised platform. And he picked me up! I saw He had a pleasant smile on His face, His big round eyes seeing everything, and His arms extended to embrace everyone.
I was 9 when I last had the opportunity to go see Lord Jagannath and His siblings in His abode in Puri. Year 1991 was the year of Godavari Pushkaram, the most recent one being in 2015. Hindus consider it auspicious to take a dip in the waters of Godavari during that time. And it is considered to be even more auspicious if you visit Jagannath Puri after the holy dip in Godavari. So, we did! Needless to say, it was a road-trip – from my hometown in southern Odisha, to Rajahmundry on the banks of Godavari, in Andhra Pradesh, to Jagannath Puri in Odisha and back to my hometown.
We were staying in one of my uncle’s house in one of the narrow by lanes of Puri. Those were the days when there were no mobiles and no internet, and in the name of TV channels we had only Doordarshan. Unlike kids of today, we had no option but to have fun. So, my parents did not have to pester me and my brother to get ready to go out with them to explore Puri. I have only faint memories of Puri. What I strongly remember from that evening however, is the feeling of not feeling one’s legs from all the walking. The year was 1991!
Street outside the Jagannath temple in Puri, Odisha, India. It is called Bada Danda in Odia, literally translating into Grand Road.
Then I “grew up”, and started having a “life”. I travelled the length of coastal Odisha many times, but never got a chance to revisit Puri. Then, like any other good Hindu, I blamed it on Him – “Jagannath hasn’t called me to visit him yet”. And in the meantime, 26 years went by.
Lord Jagannath and his siblings are as human as Gods can get. As human as visiting their aunt every year (Rathyatra) to getting ill after spending too much time in the water (Snana Yatra) to fighting with the spouse (Hera Panchami) to leaving the old body and consecrating into a new one (Nabakalebara).
While the previous deity of Lord Jagannath (which existed before the Nabakalebara of 2015) was considered to be very tolerant towards human behaviour, the current deity of Lord Jagannath is considered to be action-minded and an angrier one at that. It was only wise to stop blaming Him for not visiting and pay him a visit in his abode, I thought.
So, I visited Him after 26 years. And guess what! He looked all the same to me, like He did when I was 9 years of age. The same pleasant smile on His face, His big round eyes seeing everything, and His arms extended to embrace His whole creation. He is cool, I realised! May be a little but upset with me because I took 26 years to come back, but He was cool!
This being the month of May, it was very humid inside the temple. And because of the repair work going on in the Jagamohan (the assembly hall in front of the sanctum sanctorum), devotees are not allowed to have a closer look. Yes, His abode needs repairs too! That’s why I said He is as human as a God can get.
My visit to Puri lasted for only 90 minutes. Getting a glimpse of Him was my only purpose in Puri this time, and I was glad that I succeeded. And I realised that He calls us all the time, it is us who fail to comply and blame Him instead.
I plan to visit Puri again during Rathyatra this year, to relive my childhood memories, and after doing so bring you back the stories of Lord Jagannath and Puri.
Jai Jagannath!
In frame: Street outside the Jagannath temple in Puri, Odisha, India. It is called Bada Danda in Odia, literally translating into Grand Road. Kindly bear with lower quality of this photo. It was taken using my mobile and not my DSLR, as I am carrying only my 35mm film SLR this time as part of a challenge to myself.
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
आराम और सुविधाओं से भरी बेरंग ज़िन्दगी जिएगा कब तक?
निकल बाहर और राही बन, रास्ते को बना अपना घर,
भाग उस मंज़िल की तरफ, जिसका पता ना मुझे है, ना तुझे
जा.. जी अपनी जिंदगी, क्यूँ की उम्र बाकी है बहुत कम..
ऐसी बेरंग ज़िन्दगी जिएगा कब तक?
An empty stretch of road between Ujjain and Mandav, in Madhya Pradesh, India after almost 25-30 kms of non-existent roads.
I will admit! For me, travel had always something very tempting about it. My father, who is an avid traveller himself, sowed the seeds of love for travel. And when I was a kid, my mother (who is a History major) would tell me bed time stories about Xuanzang, Faxian, Ibn Battuta and Captain James Cook, and I would lie on the bed imagining myself as an explorer/traveller. Though I have not come too far from those bed-time-stories days, I think it has been good start, although late.
I have been able to cover only a small fraction of this magnificent land. For a starter, I have been breathless on Khardung La in the Himalayas, and have been dwarfed by the majestic mountains in Kedarnath, and have almost frozen in the waters of Gangotri, and have been mesmerised by the Ganga Aarti in Rishikesh. I have criss-crossed central India hopping from heritage sites to religious places, and have been wowed by Kailash temple in Ellora and paintings of Padmapani and Vajrapani in Ajanta, and have been transcended into another dimension while watching Bhashmaarti in Ujjain. I have been lazy in a Goan monsoon, and also have been awed by the magnificence of Hampi. I have crawled up and down in the coffee estates in the Western Ghats, and have also seen the calmness of the sea in Rameshwaram, and have been on the Vivekananda rock to see the three seas meet.
Wait! That’s not all. I have driven my beat Maruti 800 to places. I have ridden my Pulsar 200NS for thousands of kilometres. I have taken my Scorpio on multiple multi-thousand kilometre road trips, and have been on the roads for days together.
Ahaa… Wait! That’s not all, either. I have been stuck on the highway with a cyclone approaching. And as I spent my night in the car and the eye of the cylcone came really close, the howling gale almost blew the car away. And at least on two occasions I have been stranded on the road, surrounded by flood waters, and water levels slowly rising all around me. In such situations the natural choice boils down to either survival (an animal instinct) or humanity (that differentiates us from animals). In the small village I was stuck in on one occasion during the floods, there were at least two hundred more people stranded. And all of us were fed well by the villagers, without being charged a single penny. Without any idea how long the floods will last, wasn’t it brave of those villagers?
Had I been confined, I will not be having these wonderful experiences to share, correct? The travel experiences have shaped me into the kind of human I am at present.
Why I travel, explained in 3 P’s:
Places: Only words and pictures will not do justice to the places I have been to and the stories behind them. The befitting tribute to those places can only be paid by visiting and experiencing them first hand. How on earth can someone tell how it feels to be starved of oxygen at five and a half kilometres above mean sea level? Or, how it feels when water at sub-zero temperatures hits the calvaria? Or, how it feels being stranded in the eye of a cyclone and the gales are about to blow away your car?
People: The great explorers of the past were not dumb to have travelled the world and learn nothing. Humans learn best from experiences of other human beings. And what better way to meet new people other than travel? I have never seen more honest people than the Laddakhis. Being fed by villagers during the floods and for free was the best gesture any human to have ever showed me. I have had instances of total strangers coming and talking to me when I was on a ride to Odisha on my Pulsar 200NS and in the course of the conversation, telling me about places of interest nearby, or about the road that lay ahead. And, people are not always pleasant. I have also been conned many times during my travels. I call them “learning experiences”.
Passion: I am the happiest when I am on the roads, away from my desk, away from my flat. Only someone with love for travelling will understand this. Good news is, there is no way you will not fall in love with it after you start travelling. I mean, I wasn’t born with this love either. And those selfies at beautiful places are a bonus!
Few points of wisdom:
Something always goes wrong when one travels. It is the risks that make travelling even more enticing. Here are a few things that I keep in mind when I am travelling:
Time: When travelling, I always keep time in hand, and utilize it to the fullest extent. I divide my travelling days and set realistic targets for the same. Seeing places is a serious business, you see!
Lights (while self-driving): I have done a fair bit of driving/riding under the lights and have come to a conclusion that it is not worth it. It is a proven fact that human reflexes while driving are much less effective under artificial light. Then there is always the risk of unsocial elements, ghosts and unsocial-elements-dressed-as-ghosts at night. I hate ghosts and hence I try my best to avoid night driving. Pun intended!
Money: Not all places have ATMs. And post demonetisation, not all the ATMs dispense cash. I carry just enough to survive and overcome an eventuality and much less than an amount that will tempt someone to kill me. As a rule of thumb, I would start my day with Rs 5000, and replenish it back to that level at start of each day.
Maps and research: I carry a road atlas as a back up to the map on my phone. Most of the times, I do my route and stoppage planning beforehand. The most fun part of travel preparation is setting up an itinerary. I call it research!
When in doubt, I lie: If it is a self-driven road-trip, when asking for directions I always ask directions to the next big town on my route, and not to my destination. When the stranger I am speaking to does not seem right, or is too inquisitive, or both, I just cook up a story. Believe me, it is not a sin to lie when it comes down to safety. And I have a thing against serial killers!
Have fun: When something goes wrong, and something always goes wrong, I don’t get bogged down by the incident and look at the brighter side, instead. Remember, if you have no control on the outcome of a crisis, have a good time while having the crisis.
I also admit that I am yet to see the world, and have experienced just a fraction of what so many other people might have. Although late, I am glad to have started travelling. And travel I will!
Finally, let me repeat the wise words from John A. Shedd for you – “A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.”
So, what are you waiting for? Pack your bags, and get out of the house. Go Now!
Credits: Poem at the top penned by your’s truly!
Note: Please get in touch if you have difficulty in reading Hindi, and would prefer an English translation of the poem instead.
In frame: A stretch of good road between Ujjain and Mandav. We stopped here to straighten our backs after 25-30kms on non-existent roads. Yes, that happens in a Scorpio too!
VERY IMPORTANT TO NOTE: Yes, you can share this work with proper attribution. But, please seek permission before using this work (not including the photo), partially or fully. YOU CAN NOT USE THE PHOTO. Believe me, asking is better than ending up in court or facing public shaming on social media. Thanks for understanding.
Amrit Panigrahy 