Ganapatipule

Set along the Konkan belt is a little village called Ganapatipule.

It's an hour's drive from Ratnagiri. When you set off from the dirty, messy streets of Ratnagiri, you will definitely not expect what you get when you are half way through.

But before you set off, make a trip to the Ratnagiri fort. It is best to make the trip early in the morning (that is when our train arrived), because then the heat gets so annoying, you won't be able to enjoy the sights. The fort is quite boring in itself, but it is the view that is striking. The blue clear sea down below, and the mountains in the distance- breathtaking. Sit in one of the 'windows' and lose yourself in the beauty of your surrounding.

Then begins the hour long journey to Ganapatipule. The sights begin when you are driving through the mountain roads. It is a wall of mud and rock on one side and hold your breath- almost virgin beaches with blue waters on the other. The greenery around, the peaceful atmosphere and looking down on the white sand and blue water, you won't believe you are just h

alf an hour away from a totally different civilization.

Reach Ganapatipule and you have every house turned into a lodge. Not that there are way too many houses at that. You have little restaurants serving thalis and little else, and some of the more 'grand' ones that serve 'Panjabi' cuisine too. The roads are hardly cemented except in a few places, and you will like walking below the trees on the mud path to the beach. This walk in itself is quite pleasing and the instant you start, you know you are in another dimension altogether. Away from your daily rigmarole.

The beach is a haven in itself. Clear blue waters and almost white sands, unpolluted by plastic and other human remnants. If not for the Coconut water shacks lining it, or a few bunches of pilgrims on one corner of the beach near the temple, it would resemble the virgin beaches that were spotted all along our journey.

Sitting in the water all day baking in the sun and frolicking among the waves, we just didn't realise how fast the time passed. There could have been so much more we could have done like cycling down the roads or hiking a little to nearby places, discovering new beaches - but all we

did was turn into water buffaloes. But that too was great fun!

Back to the place... There is also the Ganapati temple. Not quite small, it is better to visit the temple either early during the day or about an hour before sunset. It has a hillock which is holy and you can walk around it. That is a holy Hindu ritual called Parikrama. It't not the holy part that is good here, it is the scenery you encounter while walking around the hill. On one side is greenery and the other side holds a brilliant sea view. Even during the night, you may not be able to see the waters, but the pinch in the air and the chilly winds will make you feel wonderful.

After the walk, you can probably lounge on the sea, gazing that the endless number of stars. This view is impossible from a city. Whats more, you can even spot more than a few shooting stars. Watch the sky, peer into the darkness, feel the cool sand beneath you or breathe in the slightly salty, slightly chilly sea breeze. It will all feel therapeutic.

As for food, I recommend the local thalis at least once. But if you can't digest Maharashtrian food, or coconut in your preparations, there is a garden restaurant which serves almost everything. There is also the MTDC restaurant which I personally did not have the stomach for. Though the MTDC rooms are splendid if you have the budget. They command a great view of the beach.

All in all, Ganapatipule is one of those escapades that you go to when you have a nice long

weekend, and don't want to tire yourself out. Sit, chill, sunbathe (or burn like I did). But remember, if you want beer, you may have to get your own from somewhere. 'Cos this Ashtavinayak-temple-housing-village mostly doesn't have any.

Here's a picture log of my Ganapatipule trip, beginning from Ratnagiri station.

Kahaani

Sirhane padi thi ek palak

Ho gayi woh pawan ke hawale

Jhonke sang jhoomi, na hosh ka pata

Poochti khud se, kaun hoon main?

Ek choti si harkat,

ek lamha bana kahaani,

par alfaazon se bandh na paaya woh,

ek itihaas jiski rachna hai bas mann mein hi.

- © HAEM ROY

Blast from the past

I love the rains. On most occasions. But after being deported to Andheri east for work, my romanticised 'South Bombay' picture of the rains has been washed away. Literally and otherwise. My love for puddles has been replaced violently by a desperate search for dry ground. The immunity of the city has been so badly attacked, it seems that soon the island city will be an 'underground island city'.

And as I reminisce of how I usually felt very poetic during the rains, I am left thinking of how poetry would be in this scenario. Imagine if Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Byron and Shelley, with all their creative and poetic juices intact, were born in Bombay - the present.

An example of a Shakespearean sonnet 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day', as I see it now:

Shall I compare thee to a rainy day?
Thou art more dirty, making me asphyxiate:
Rough winds do shake the umbrellas we take,
And smoke and grease hath leave me no breath:
.... (and i skip to the last 2 lines)
No longer men can breathe or eyes can see,
No long lives left, only choking, suffering and misery.


Maybe, the cynical Eliot would be more fit in these times. His Waste Land is quite apt, with some minor 'tweaking', as we say here in Ad Land:

July is the cruellest month, breeding
Instects out of the dead land, mixing
Smoke with gutter, stirring
Dull roads with acid rain.

How to identify the Gujritius homo sapiens (GHS)

This certain species originated in the West Coast of India and belong to the Indo-Aryan race of homo sapiens. With the advent of globalisation and human export though, these creatures can now be found in every little remote country there is, including that little country stuck in between Egypt. There are a few sure shot ways of identifying this widely found species:

1. They are collective animals. They will always be found with almost their entire clan. If on a rare occasion you do chance upon a lone GHS, you will see him befriending (or scares) other clans and species aggressively.
2. Their vocal chords are differently developed to speak at louder tones. They are incapable of whispering, mumbling or muttering. Even at a distance of 5 feet, they will be found using their full vocal capabilities to beckon each other.
3. Not quite unlike cows, they have a primary need to keep chewing. Their food chambers are located outside their body through and they will always be found with some edible items on their person. While travelling, if you are out of food, you can rely on them to have some stored at all times.
4. They are characterised by a peculiar form of dance movement. They are sure to perform the same when you play music of any kind, as the clan gathers in a circle and dances around.
5. Their currency comprehension and value recognition capabilities are quite low. As a result, they have their personal judgement of a value of an item. You will always find them fighting to obtain the same at a lower price, and at most times, they exasperate the vendor enough to gain their way. Something obtained free of cost of course holds most value for them.
6. Although they travel in clans, they readily include anyone from the same species. In fact, they are always on the look out for fellow GHS, and will go all out to find one if there is.
7. Be wary of swallowing their food if you are allergic to sweetness. If you are not, you can identify a GHS in an instant by tasting simply a morsel. Their sugar consumption level far exceeds that of an average homo sapien.
8. A social event or a wedding is actually a meeting ground of potential matches, and you will find the elder of the species discussing prospective matches at all times. No young GHS can hope to be spared of this custom of inspection at any event.
9. If you spot meat, be sure not to find a GHS in that area. GHS are herbivores and avoid any meat consumption. But the younger of the species have begun adapting to meat eating patterns.
10. Lastly, even the most unlikely GHS will believe in exploitation of resources. They use the available resource to the optimum and then find a way to go even beyond it.

Statutory warning: If unprepared and unarmed, stay within escapable distance of a GHS.

Time-travel in a split second

Sleep in your mother’s arms once again. Experience the first rain. Discover the secret cave behind your house. Feel the snow between your fingers.

Invent things that haven’t yet been invented. Or fly in a plane without leaving the ground. Lie among tulips as you watch the birds. Live on the moon for that little while.

Fast forward or rewind. Freeze time and play with it.

Jump back to that moment. Or create one you imagined.

Forget the world. Find the world.

Bring life into one moment… a moment of escape.

Life @ 10 km/hr

Escape. To the little bylanes while zooming on a highway.
Choose the diversion, even when the road ahead is wide open. Take the sudden left turn down the mud-track. Steer away from long roads to travel at 10 km/hr. Discover your own road, and follow the scents and sounds.

Escape. To unknown places some afternoon.
Jump the fence, and reach strange yards. Climb a tree and look at the world down below. Fly a kite on the hill no one goes to. Lie down in the hay with your dog.

Escape. To find life in everything.
Compete with the wind to laugh out loud. Splash in the rain while on your way to work. Walk slowly and follow the snail. Smell the leaves and wave at the trees. Wink at the stars. Lie in the grass and stare at the sky.

Escape. To take a day off from time.
Forget your age and run in the park. Eat all you can. Leave a boat in the stream nearby. Find shapes in clouds of places far away. Watch the sky change colours through the day. Sing with the birds. Dance without reason.

Once in a while, walk slowly through life. Once in a while, escape the ordinary.

Don’t grow wings. Learn to fly without them.

Sometimes, when a room feels stuffy, all you need to do is open the window.

Just like in life.

All you need to do is break free. Just like a little kid, trying to break free from his inabilities, to try and reach his favourite toy. Like a tree swaying with the wind, trying to break free from the ground.

Break the permanency of routine. And be the vagrant ray of light that winds its way through darkness. Be the whiff of scent that leaves its flowers to mingle with the air around.

Be the little drop of water that trickles down unknown roads to find its puddle. Be the moonlight that finds a way into the most reticent corners of earth. When you are the tired traveller in the heat, be your own valley of flowers.

When looking for an escape, don’t look around. Create one within you. Leave your mind blank for a moment, and let all thoughts escape you. Don’t go looking for the answers to life. Make up the most interesting answers yourself.

Close your eyes and reach your heart. Don’t run away to look for a haven. Find your paradise right where you are.

Let a moment of change enter every second. Let a smile escape when moods are sombre. Don’t wait for wings to sprout so you can fly. Escape to your paradise anyway.

The vagrant wind

The whoosh of a wind as it swings past my ear
Whistling a tune, pleasant but unclear
A huge bag slung on its shoulder
The fuzzy fog trapped inside.

Hopping past the meadows
Ignoring the trees that beckon
Brushing the flowers with a touch
Scampering away merrily, grinning to everyone.

A tinge of mischief hidden beneath its folds
Spurts of giggles every now and then
Sprinting across as you look away
Sneaking away to the corner.

In the lands far and near,
As it explores what we so fear,
Rings a hollow laugh, a merry cheer
Left behind by the vagrant that swishes past.
- © HAEM ROY

OPPOSITES

(just a short story I wrote very very long ago)

Opposites

I am introverted, have always been so. I have never liked being in the limelight too much. The ‘In’ crowd is something I totally despise. I just can’t understand how they can live a life so dependent on others, on their friends; how they can share all their thoughts and feelings with someone else; and dress up and act and behave to impress others. Aren’t they satisfied with themselves? Why do they need others? I remain by myself most of the time; enjoy dressing up for my own pleasure. I am Sanskriti and I live with and for Sanskriti.

Oh yes, Sanskriti is one of the boring types I must say! I have known her since my childhood. Let me introduce myself first. I am Susie, and though I am 4 years younger than Sanskriti, I do know her very well. But she doesn’t know me. She was always scared to make friends, whereas I, quite unlike her, have always been a social person. I hold pride in my numerous friends and the ability to charm people. Sanskriti can’t charm even a dog even if she tries her best! I mean, look at her…oiled hair, no sense of dressing (where does she get these rags from?), cannot talk properly – forget English, always oblivious to everything…

Many laugh and make fun of my appearance. But then, what’s wrong with it? Oil is good for the hair; no one has hair as strong and healthy as mine. Those who have coloured their hair following the ‘trends’ will regret later on. I like my dresses, they are extremely comfortable and don’t suffocate you, or indulge in skin-show. And I speak very well when I am by myself, it’s just that I am not comfortable in company. I have been living a satisfied life, barring a few weird incidents. There are some periods in time when I am completely lost. It’s as if I lose consciousness and when I regain myself, I do not know what happened, don’t remember anything. But then, it just be due to weakness, as I often do not eat; I just don’t feel hungry.

Crazy she definitely is, and these ‘weakness effects’ are just signs of her madness. Living all by yourself will have some effect on the mind! No man is an island and all islands are in deep water. Forget her! I just can’t imagine her life. I live a life where I eat a lot, talk a lot and laugh a lot. Going to the movies, partying, enjoying all the pleasures that life has to offer. I have always been a free bird, with no one to bind me or stop me. I did what I liked, when I liked, since I was a kid. Who needs parents when you have so many friends?

My childhood was a learning process. My father was a strict disciplinarian and my Ma was a deeply religious lady. They imbibed in me their values and morals. I was taught to respect and obey all orders, work around the house, pray regularly, never speak or shout out loud and contain myself. I did try to follow all that, but I guess I am too clumsy. I wasn’t allowed to be friends with the guys, and they were too rough for me anyways. I had a couple of girlfriends, but none too close. I never had much to talk and was happy being with myself. That is the way to live – in all harmony and proper order. It was disastrous for me the day my father died. I was around 12 years old. I felt this deep sense of regret and loss. I do not know how he died, no one told me, and was kept away during his last rites. I was not allowed to even look at the body. Maybe they thought I would get scared. After Pa’s death, Ma’s behaviour towards me changed. She did not talk to me, or care for me. She just shunned me and always kept shouting at me whenever she spotted me. I think the death had affected her mentally. I cooked my own food when hungry, and continued with my activities by myself. She also died after a year or so, how I do not know or remember. After her death, I was sent to an orphanage as any of my relatives refused to accept me.

My Pop never gave me any freedom, always restricting and tracking every movement of mine. I wasn’t allowed to have many friends and boys were a strict no. But I loved hanging out with the boys; they were so much fun. We would play football, climb trees and do all sorts of cranky stuff. Of course Pop wasn’t supposed to know! Mom would ask me to do household chores, pray, etc. But I hated all that. I would mess up the chores purposely. These restrictions in fact egged me further and I tried my best to do just the opposite. They were bearing upon me too much. Finally, one day I couldn’t take it any longer and I killed Pop with my switchblade knife. Everyone was shocked and thought I had gone crazy. Mom now hated me and stayed away. Maybe she was scared! She would occasionally try to discipline me and order me around. But I showed her too that I was not to be pushed around. I killed her too…

I considered the orphanage my home and started living there normally. I got used to the lifestyle and didn’t need much for myself. I got into college and concentrated only on my studies. But, however hard I studied, I never managed to get satisfying marks. College was when these weakness-blackouts increased, sometimes even during exams. But I managed.

Yes, it was the orphanage where I knew Sanskriti properly. I was sent there after I killed Mom as all were now scared of me. Maybe they thought I was a serial killer! Ha ha! She would follow all orders, stay within her room and remain to herself. Most boring I believe! I, on the other hand, got friendly with almost everyone, including the watchman and peon. They would help me when I wanted to sneak out for a party or something. Studies were never my interest. In fact, I hardly studied. During exams I somehow managed to scrape through with a bit of divine and ‘other’ help.

These blackout phases are seriously scaring me now. I recently visited the doctor finally and he too was confused. He did not know what ailed me and thought maybe I should see a psychiatrist or something. I just hope it’s no serious illness. Two days ago I found some things in my cupboard, which did not belong to me. There were some clothes, the modern ‘trendy’ types and make-up. I found some cigarette packets and a switchblade knife and was shocked. There was also a diary with Susie written on the front cover. I did not know how all that came there. Maybe I had made a new friend during these unconscious ‘blackout’ phases that I do not remember. That’s when it started to worry me.

Well, she had to find out one day, and so she will. She found my stuff in her cupboard and wondered whose it was. Of course she doesn’t know me yet, so she is confused. But once she does, she will be shocked, terrified maybe. Earlier I would hide my things at places she never looked at, but at the orphanage there was no option. And it was here that I felt more free and expressed myself more often. That’s how she became suspicious and went to that stupid doctor. But of course he couldn’t find out anything. I can hide myself so well that I bet even the psychiatrist will be baffled. Though I do intend to get introduced to Sanskriti soon. I am eager to see her reaction, because helpless as she is, she won’t be able to harm me of course. I am much stronger. But she has to know me, her opposite, her other half, her other personality ….

Haem Roy

I can manage

When the tide turns on me

When every step beholds a rock

I'll be fine

Cos I can manage.

When the world seems lost

And I grapple with directions

I'll be fine

Cos I can manage.

As you worry about your own

Go on with your life

Don't bother about me

Cos I can manage.

When I need someone

I'll hold my own hand

Don't look back at me

Cos I can manage.

But don't worry for when you are low

Or just need a push to go

It's you who I'll look at first

Cos my own I can manage.

- © HAEM ROY

Dec 04, 2008.

The lonely bungalow feel

The sweet smell of grass envelops
dew hanging mid-air
mist tying you up all around
a gush of darkness approaches the ground

stars float about, having their siesta
the moon has just stopped bothering
the cottage before you stands in a permanent shadow
the trees covering its promiscuity

and as the crickets begin their speech
the tiny world silently listens
tip-toe, whisper or scream
No other sound will get ears

a wave of eeriness and you walk faster
wanting to get away, but being pulled back
as you crunch the gravel along the road
it's always a wide stretch - behind you or ahead

all your senses alert almost
your Mind wafting away
hushed whispers are all your mouth can manage
seems like someone's carried your voice away

your lonely cottage is your Den
the shadows around it ignored
a tiny lamp your constant companion
the trees sharing the secrets hidden from you
with restless peace your heart keeps beating
as you sleep enveloped by the Lonely Bungalow Feeling...
- © HAEM ROY 
1.10.08

I want to run away

I want to backpack...

Just pick a haversack, put in a few things, carry some money, a map and set out. Maybe decide the 1st location, only the 1st. And then go by the wind, or impulse. Explore the uninhabited, dine with the locals, hitchhike down roads, bathe in waterfalls and write by the stream. Breathe in the fresh air, read a story that the clouds draw, listen to the music that the little village boy with the flute composes... and sleep in a sleeping bag under the stars.

But... (there is always a fricking but), responsibilities, home... family to care for!

Ah well.. some day for sure. I know. And those wishing to join me are most welcome.

Ode to the brave train traveller

This was originally written for the Open Humour Blog:

To the brave train traveller

Thou brave child of Alexander the great
Thou who fights long battles with fate
O’ lucky bearer of the choicest insults
Enlightened thou be, by the foul-mouthed cult.

Ye rise early, crosst many roads
Before thy might the villains bowed
Ascending a wagon full of faces so vain
Thousands to battle, hundreds will be slain.

An umbrella beest thy sword,
With closed eyes as thou climbs aboard
Elbows be thy armour and shield
Thy feet danceth when the hands are sealed.

Protecting the land where thee sets foot
Forever it seems, thou will stay put,
Jostling and pushing hath no effect
Thy strong body suffers no defect.

None dareth rise up against thy might
For if they do, you are all set to fight
The teaching of years, the words in thy mouth
Flying like bullets, at those vagrants uncouth.

None can attempt a feat like thee
Hanging by a finger, avoiding that tree
Standing up to that army twice a day
It ain’t that easy, to battle everyday.

A salute to the master kicker,
The uncrowned king of trains
The soldier that bravely battles fate
And steps out alive, injured but not slain.

- © HAEM ROY

For those interested, the above verse was an attempt to parody the heroic couplet style of writing that was prominent during the Renaissance age. It is characterised by exaggeration and grandeur, making the subject seem almost divine. Another characteristic is the form which is rhymed couplets in iambic metre, though this one is not in iambic metre. (do you even know how tough it is to calculate it, let alone write in it!)

*Definitions*:
The heroic couplet, lines in iambic pentameter rhymed in pairs(aa, bb, cc), appeared early in English — it was Chaucer's favorite meter — and came into vogue in poetic drama in the seventeenth century, but in the eighteenth century, in the hands of masters like Dryden, Pope, and Johnson, it became for many years the dominant English verse form. Its name derives from its use in seventeenth-century "heroic" (epic) drama and poetry.

Alexander Pope's Rape of the Lock is an excellent example of a parody of heroic couplet, and very very funny too.

SOMETHING'S MISSING

a vOid - hOllOwness
Breeze drilling through you
It’s not just your ReflEction in that puddle
that’s restless, It’s a ReflEction of you.

An incomplete WhOLe you feel like
A leaking jar –
filled to the brim
You don’t know where that bastard piercing is
that’s draining the you out of yOu.

- © HAEM ROY 
[For the curious, the capitals and placement of lines is on purpose.]

Kuch Lamhe

Some nazms that I penned some time ago

KUCH LAMHE:

1) Taaron ki shaant timtimaahat
Aur andhere sannate ke beech
Uthti awaaz jo failaye madhoshi
Andhadhun samaa mein hai ye roshni ki nazuk aahat

2) Suryoday gagan ki rangeen chadar odhe
Raat ki thand mein garmahat ka aagman
Oas ab kho rahe apna astitva
Ruke nahin jeevan ka chalan, bas ab dikhai pade

3) Ped ke patton mein dhup ki luka-chippi
Kabhi kabhi vayu maharaj ki dakhal andazi
Thake musafir aur ped ka saath to suna sunaya hai
Par dhup aur vayu hi hain is rahi ke humrahi

4) Varsha mein paani ki boondein khelti ajab raas
Kabhi tez ya madhdham koi na keh pata
Josh mein aa gayee to sab Ram-bharose
Aas-paas na dekhti kuch… anjaam sarvanash

5) Phool jab pathjad ke hruday se khilte
Toh soonepan ko chod dete soona
Par gar hota na pathjad bahaar se pehle
Toh kya phool itni muskuraahat faila pate?

6) Saanjh ki lapet mein phir sab aane lage
Kuch jeev shuru, kuch thame, par jeevan toh abhi bhi chale
Bheeni mitti ki mahek ghulti raatrani ki sugandh se
Sab kuch abhi bhi sada-sa manmohit lage

7) Subah uthte hi palkon ke saamne chaye dhundhlapan
Sapnon ki duniya ke nishaan abhi bhi
Nidra aur jaagran ke beech ki ajab sthiti
Jab hosh dagmagaata, shantata ke dariya mein behekta man

8) Palkein jhapakte hi, oas ki boonden khaari,
Khud mein koi raaz samaaye,
Girte aur ho jaate hain ye toh nadaarad
Par de jaate hain ahsaas halke, jab ho jaati hain yaadein bhaari

9) Madhraatra… Kehte hain ki hai sannaata
Toh phir kya hai vo jantuon ki nishani
Woh tarraana, madhur awaazein
Aisa anokha shor kyon koi na sun paata?

10) Ant kabhi ho sakta hai samaapt?
Kya shuruaat bhi nahin anth ka aagman?
Chakravyuh mein ghoom, vipda mein phase

Gar yahi sochne baithe, toh kya manzil hogi praapt?

- © HAEM ROY 

Comfort has to be sought

Comfort is naturally a very relative term by all means. Every person keeps aiming for his/her comfort zone at every point in life. The way one chases comfort keeps reminding me of how men chase women, playing all tricks, trying to woo her in all possible ways, trying to figure out what makes her click and leaving no stone unturned. Comfort is no less than the stubbornest of women, probably even worse, as it keeps eluding you, and just when you think you are settled in its lap serenely, disturbed not even by dreams, a humungous pin decides to lodge itself in your backside.

The problem more often is deciphering what exactly YOUR comfort zone is. It is misjudged and one is left scurrying about in pursuit of something which eventually is futile. Only on reaching do we realise that we probably seek something else, and the mad run begins again.

Thats the cycle of life. Comfort keeps eluding, wrong judgement manifests itself at every turn, and mirages keep blinding long sight.

But to look at it from a better perspective, even though the destination may not be a permanent comfort zone, it definitely is not worthless. One can treat it more like a pitstop, a refuelling junction. The bliss of reaching the mountain peak may not be there, but there is a definite respite from the endless turbulences of the journey, and the motion sickness. A nap for an hour, some food, a calming of the senses before you are back to the grind.

I found a similar 'comfort-post' recently. Something cliched yet unfailing - books. Sometimes the processes of our own mind are so complex and confusing, that you fail to keep pace with it. You don't understand what is happening and it is almost the verge of a breakdown. Everything around you seems like its spinning, and that its bent on knocking you down for sheer sadistic pleasure. Probably you can do something to stop this, but that would be possible if you grasp what is happening!

Those are time when you try and seek the comfort zone. You desperately need it. The chase obviously beings you to the 'nap and food break'. And i ended up with a book, that helped me drown the world around me. I shut myself to the rivers and island world of 'The Hungry Tide', an all-time favourite of mine, and revelled in the fictional characters and emotions the book offered me. The pace and gripping narrative of the book played their part in keeping me glued, even at a re-reading. And in time, the storm within me had settled, I don't know how, as I took things in their stride. The smile was back, and I was not being knocked down. (Even if I was, I probably turned into a huge, green giant who could not be knocked down!) As for the tiny pins that were being flung at me constantly, I learnt to deflect them in a way that they barely scratched me.

But I still seek my mountain peak
Momentary posts may refuel me
But my eyes are set on a destination I cant yet see
Till then I try to be happy with breeze that whistles by.

- © Haem Roy

RAJMACHI - A NEW YEAR IN A NEW WAY

(Special thanks to Rohit for the valuable insights and information and for the spell-check :)! )
Nestled in the midst of nature are many treasures that man has long forgotten in his quest for materialistic life. The daily routines and hustle-bustle has left thought being strictly limited to the concrete jungle that surrounds the vision and the luxuries within that pretend to rescue the man from it.

But it is only when the actual hidden escapades are discovered that the True meaning of life and living truly dawns. Ever wondered why being among greenery casts a strange calmness in your mind or why it soothes your senses and makes you smile without reason? Even your subconscious feels the presence of the original, the pure and the serene and it reacts pleasantly. And what better way to welcome a New Year than by spending it in the lap of nature!

Rajmachi is very famous fort near the twin hill stations in Maharashtra - Lonavala and Khanadala. Rajmachi fort is about 16/19 Kms from Lonavala, One of the ways to reach the fort is from Tungarli Lake, which is the route we took. Rajmachi consists of two beautiful peaks namely 'Shrivardhan' and 'Manaranjan' and is a fun, easy trek for beginners.

THE ASCEND - 30th December:

Preparation included packing bags last moment, and realizing I don’t have a small enough bag. Horrendous consequences emerged, as I had to lug an extra-large, sumo-wrestler sized bad along!! (Ouch!) I journeyed to the initial destination – VT station, where Lakshi awaited my arrival. We would catch the 2.30 Sinhagad Express from VT.

Meeting the others and after basic introductions, we moved into the train compartment. The architectural make of the compartment was not feasible for mingling and opening up and so the train journey was more of listening and observing for me.

Getting off at Lonavla station and after a small halt we started our walk at around 6 pm. We walked from Lonavla station to Gurukul High School for about 10 minutes, where Mango and Rajashree (or Mangee as we call her) joined the group. We walked ahead from there to Tungarli Village (Upper Deck) wherein began the trip towards ‘heaven’. Climb climb it was then towards the dam first and then on a mud track that got a little rocky at times. We walked from Tungarli(Patel Properties) to Thakurwadi in about 30 minutes, and as we got down from Thakurwadi, right there before our vision were the magnificent peaks that beckoned us। It seemed like they were awaiting our arrival, whiling away time talking to breeze till we arrived and tickled their senses.

(Note please: Map courtesy Rohit Nayak and his Paintbrush skills)

At Thakurwadi village the darkness settled heavily and we paused plunging our bags on the ground. Torches became our swords as we battled the night to reach our destination. We jumped down a curvy mud road till we reached a quarry. Wandering in the dark seemed to take away the tediousness of the really really long walk along the winding path. Otherwise, we were told, this route is quite long, but relatively very simple. In fact, as Rohit puts it and I quote, “Only a fool could get lost here”. But then we did sort of almost get lost along the way as Hemant Da led us the wrong way near the quarry! Again to give them credit, as we were later told, not many of them had traversed this path and it was a new route that was being experimented. Moving left from the quarry after Rohit came to our rescue, we stumbled down the path for some time in the dark.

Though the night trek limited our view, it seemed to heighten the other senses as I could actually ‘feel’ nature and touch it. If someone had seen me then they would have been puzzled to see me grinning stupidly all along the way. Being the person that I am, I like to look at the stars, take in some cool air, smile at the wind that goes whispering past my ear and grin at the crickets that are attempting to strike conversations in the twilight. This, along with my stupid bag made me the one lugging behind as everyone rushed off ahead. Still, I did not want to just finish the climb without even feeling it and ending up all exhausted and cribbing, so I chose not to pace up. SK walked alongside me with umpteen patience, not shoving me ahead like a bunch of herds. What struck me was that he was walking without a torch in the pitch dark! In contrast, when my torch batteries dimmed, I actually tripped over for lack of proper sight of the path ahead.

Moving ahead and taking a further left at a fork, we reached a ‘C’, where we were told was a waterfall that flourished in the rains. It has a strong water flow and during the rains, extreme caution must be exercised while crossing it. It is even recommended that if the water crosses the boundary line, the place should be crossed only with help from the villagers. The scene can be quite a visual treat then as the monsoons rush to cover the area with a green blanket and pearly water drops shine from nooks. It seems like a game nature is playing and amuses us in all its playfulness.

After this is a simple straight walk and we just had to follow the mud path… ‘Follow the yellow brick road, ta da. Follow the follow the follow the follow the follow the yellow brick road!”

Parag Dada, Tapan and Sameer stayed back to wait for Leena who would arrive later. Rahul came on his bike with Nikhil. On the way Nikhil was made to get off as Leena got on the bike, and the four others walked up. They covered the route in 2.5 hours flat, while we took 4 hrs for the same!! Rahul and Leena met us on the way and then it was her turn to be dethroned from her seat of glory as the chillars - Aishu and Nupur were placed there.

Tired yet grinning we reached the village called Udhewadi, or more popularly known as Rajmachi, and the cottage where we would dock ourselves at around 10 pm, earlier than expected. Geeta Maushi, the lady of the house, lovingly prepared scrumptious dinner for all of us that we gorged on. Then was the laying of the mats or sheets for sleeping arrangements of the mob that had landed at the small abode. Thinking that everyone is going off to sleep when the arrangements were made, Lakshi and me went off to sleep inside. Sadly, little did we know about the late night sessions, debates and ghost stories that ensued outside later!

EARLY EXPLORATIONS:

Early next morning we rubbed off some sleep from our eyes as Sam woke us gently, which I am not quite used to! Then was the scramble up to the Shrivardhan fort. Rajmachi is a set of two forts – Shrivardhan and Manaranjan, strategically positioned on two adjacent peaks. They were constructed to overlook the routes of two important regions of the Konkan area – Lonavla and Karjat. They are constructed in a manner than one can view all the routes leading up to the fort and the chosen regions and thereby ensure proper security. It is even told that if someone calls out from the bottom of the mountain, the voice traverses all the way to the top, which is a useful device for alerting.

We scaled the initial path and reached a small Bhairavnath temple. Simple yet serene, the temple exuded a positive energy and calmness. Its lack of gaudiness and no ornamentation created an air of warmth that made it a peaceful retreat in the midst of creation. We then moved up to the fort. Looking back we could see the village below and on one side we could trace the route we had come from the previous night. It was a spectacular sight to actually gauge the way you had traveled and your reach.

Along with marveling at nature, it was also a marvel to reach a point from where it was possible to envelope this vastness in your mind. I just wanted to stand tall and grin at nature, speaking to it in an unspoken language. I wanted to hold it in my palms as I gaped at it, and let the experience ripple through my soul.

The bastions that stood proud on the fort’s exteriors and the small ‘chor darwazas’ that edged their way into the fort from unexpected channels; everything left a simple question in my mind: how did they build all this at THAT time? A technological lack withstanding, they managed to erect a stone monument that stands as a tribute to their undaunting effort and mind-blowing skills.

As for some piece of history, the word 'Machi' in Marathi means 'Plateau', this plateau is at a height of almost 2500-2700 feet. Shrivardhan and Manaranjan can also be considered as two separate forts. Shrivardhan is 'Bale killa' of Rajmachi. It is almost 3000 feet high. But it was mainly built to keep watch on Konkan area. It overlooks the Lonavala region and was built to keep a watch on trade route passing through the Bhor Ghats.

The other - Manaranjan is 2700 feet high. Manaranjan consists of strong walls, 3 doors and many water tanks. One can see the Ulhas river, Dukes Nose (Nagphani), Karnala, Matheran, Mahuli and Bhimashankar, etc. The old caves of 'Kondhavi' on Rajmachi fort are worth a dekho. One can see the entire railway route from Karjat to Lonavala from this fort. And an added note, the place looks amazing in the rains as lush greenery seems to envelope you in its arms as if beckoning you to rejoice the game nature is playing.

Though we did not get the chance to witness the glory of Manaranjan, the view from its other half was worthwhile. Mindful of my steps, I simply could not keep my eyes off the region around, and as far as my vision could reach, all I could comprehend was beauty at its best. Reaching the top of the fort there was a flagpole with remnants of a flag that seemed to be fluttering in nostalgia and memories of its old glory. Something caught me (as usual) and I felt the urge to climb the pole. No, it was not the spirit of a languor, though the region definitely is known for a hoard of them (we even spotted one!). Anyway, after relevant permissions (or maybe tantrums) with the organizers, I climbed up, gazing at the sky and earth and all that was in between.

It was an experience that nothing can describe. Feeling the breeze on my face, I felt like on top of the world. It is strange how nature also ends up uplifting spirits, just like little children do. Maybe it’s the raw innocence, the purity and the simple purposelessness that makes their existence so joyful and the air infectious. They exist for the sake of existing, and not for money, or love, or luxuries, or career. They just live, bloom, laugh and share it all – that’s what I believe life is – living!

Following me were the other ‘ladies’ of the group while the kind gentlemen clicked away merrily. I cannot state how they felt, but they sure had smiles all the way!

We sipped water from a tank at the fort that had amazingly chilled and sweet water. The fishes swam in full abandon, but the water was pure as ever. Nature has its way of replenishing needs, without any harm to anything else, quietly paving a path for everything.

The most depressing sight at the fort (yes there was something depressing) was the sight around the fort. A lot of greenery had been burnt and destroyed by what seemed like a forest fire. Black soot was all around. We were later told that this was the misdoing of some ‘trekkers’ from Pune who disposed a lit cigarette that triggered a huge fire. Their carelessness is astounding, as they did not even claim responsibility and the very villagers who rescued them from the fire had to bestow the blame!

RETURN TO INNOCENCE:

It was then time to return to the cottage for breakfast. We were pleasantly surprised to see Rohan and Aarty already there and rubbing sleepy eyes when we reached. They had reached before expected! Maushi had made some yummy sheera that was gobbled down the moment it appeared. Next we were rounded off to a grazing ground (which no longer had any grass!) for the ‘events of the day’. The theme, well-selected, was ‘Going back to childhood’. It started off with us being tied up, literally, so that we don’t run away. I mean the three-legged race. We thought we might be able to choose our pairs (evil grin). But alas, Hemant broke all our illusions and paired me with Girish, and Lakshi with Shirish. I, for one, was trying hard to keep my leg in place because everytime he moved his leg, mine inevitably flew into the air! I almost thought I would either end up flying to the finish line or just fall flat and break my nose. But, yaay, that did not happen.

Unfair mention: Others were NOT randomly paired after this!! Grrrrrrrr!

The race went great with some ‘nadas’ breaking off (Sameer and Rahul), some surprising sprints (SK and Vijay running off like their asses were on fire), and people wearing 3/4ths or shorts complaining of the nada cutting into their skin rendering them unable to run faster!

And to top it all, we had CHEERLEADERS! Yes, of course. We had the audience enthusiastically standing at the sides, with dry cowdung in their hands, hurling it at the ones lagging behind. Obviously this was to encourage them to run faster! J

Next came the chamcha nimbu. And even before the race began we had a string of spoons breaking off as people assumed it to be candy-sticks. Plastic I say! There were attempts to scrutinize and select nimbus (by a certain Miss Lakshika), but ha!, hail Hemant as justice prevailed. He actually checked every participant to see that no one was cheating.

It started with the boys as they walked with noses in the air, minding their nimbus (no pun intended). Cowdung of course was the highlight. The girls next, chose to pose for pictures first. Not surprising. Then the funny walks happened, as half the nimbus decided they did not like their owners and chose to ‘drop’ out.

The best part was the winners – Mango and Rajashree! What a sporty couple! Out the sudden sporty mood erupted an impromptu race. And surprise surprise, the winners were - Mango and Jayashree!!

WE GREW FINS:

My favourite part came now as the sweaty lot headed to the lake for a dip and more. Fatafat changing and then was the relaxing swim in the heavenly waters. Did I tell you how much I love the water and how eagerly I await these ‘swimming in a natural pool’ sessions? It reminded me of Rural Camp where we swam under twilight, with only the stars providing necessary illumination. We could hardly see who was next to us, and so much the better, as any torches switched on at the ‘girls side of the stream’ then would be met with shouts as everyone preferred bathing semi-clad. Talking of rural camp, a lot of things here made me nostalgic about it, and I longed to experience it again!

But since its not that we are talking about, I come back to the swimming. The ones who unfortunately had learnt only to drown stood at the shallow part, carefully trying not to slip. The two kids – Aishu and Nupur could be seen making merry with the water splashing all about. Some preferred to just sit on the side stone and let their feet do the bathing. While some of us had a diving session in progress as we went on the scan the lengths of the lake. It was fun to have a diving sequence with everyone, as I dived for the 1st time ever since I learnt swimming eons ago.

Everyone’s favourite part was Parag dada washing clothes religiously – the Kodak moment! Rohit was conspicuously missing and Anu kept flitting away. We later realised what they were busy with as we puzzled at the ‘cryptic clues’ and dug around the village!

Time for delicious lunch that hardly took any time since everyone was so famished. And lunch means sleep… and people fell flat on the verandah for a nap. Some enjoyed their 40 winks while the rest of us playing a game of bluff. The game had to be finally abandoned when Rohit, Rajashree and Aishwarya just could stay off the cards and wanted all of them!

TRICK OR TREAT – JUST GET THE TREASURE SOMEHOW! :

Treasure hunt then, as the teams were divided under the ‘able guidance’ of very intelligent leaders – Sameer and SK. Competition spirit became evident from the start itself as everyone strove (or fought) to get the points. The game was explained to one and all, and the point system described to ‘Math-allergic’ people like me. Then came the 1st ceremony – a reading of the 1st cryptic clue. Nicely worded and even rhyming, the clues were a surprise fun to even hear. The 1st clue led us to the solar panels, as everyone scrambled to find the hidden card.

It was the haunted abode next, looking for the clue card. I think Rahul was even spotted chatting up the ghosts asking them for hints!


The treasure hunt took us from there to the Shiv Temple near the lake as this clue was solved:

“Spirituality is like Underwear….have it but don't flaunt it
I m one of the ways to get to the pearly gates
My Monolithic structure stands the test of time
Find my Lord and thee shall shine”

Discovering the card from amidst the rocks, the two teams moved on to a certain ‘mango tree’. Here we were out of breath even before we reached the tree, as the ‘adarniya nyayadheesh’, Sri Sri Hemant ji, decided to keep us miles away from the tree before we started the search so that there would be no unfairness. Sigh! Pinak’s height brought him glory here as he reached the clue perched high on the tree before we even stepped in the tree shade.

(What I wonder is who the hell put it there and how? Rohit can climb trees???)

Panting we trudged to the next spot – the minaret near the temple. A rectangle of dug ground and so many directionless people inside. Chotu wonder, Aishwarya found the clue but a controversy emerged. Now it seems like reality TV finally! Debates about who spotted the clue first and who has claim over the points had the two teams at loggerheads. Oh my, I think I spotted Pinak sporting horns and ready to strike! Ok ok, the issue was calmly settled thanks to our ‘team leaders’ (didn’t I mention they were able and intelligent) who emerged generous, humble and the perfect exemplars of sportsmanship!

Next was digging the mud around the nearby well, as the clue puzzled more than half the junta.

“Depth is something that cannot be fathomed
I know ur pissed with the word game so keep aside the sarcasm!
A circle of stones amongst the brown
Why do I see a lot of brows frown?
Take another swig minus the twig
U will have to search for me cos I aint big
A swig I don't promise but a visual treat
Near to me lies a ruined piece
A Symbol of hope and belief
Run to me and cleanse ur soul
Near to me in the finger bowl
Lies the card that will lead u to a goal”

Stupid me, so used to wordplays and hidden meanings tried to find an interpretation of the ‘fingerbowl’, whereas it turned out to be an actual fingerbowl! Meanwhile, footage was being recorded of Aishu digging the mud, or people running helter-skelter like there’s been an earthquake or me trying to find a hairpin in the sand!

Card found, it was the cowshed next. With nightmares of trying to uncover the card from within a dung-pile, we moved to the spot. Thankfully, our ever so gracious leaders took over the mantle of the job and for security and protection of the cattle, the rest of the monster-herd was not allowed into the shed.

Finally it was the water tap and the flow of points ending with a rush of picture-taking. The ‘treasure’ was yummy roshogullas, chocolates and chocolates and chocolates. Slurp! Yaay, the ‘winning team’ (which was not us, even after efforts and a catapulted race forward) shared the delicacy. Cheers to all!

Treasure hunt over, tea break. And did you see Lakshika holding 4 of those kismis biscuits and gulping 2 cups of tea. Hah! This is entry is also for secret-revealing!

SINKING ISLAND:

We then tried a hand at a game suggested by Hemant – three islands. Brilliant game as some of us agreed, since it required a lot of mental exercise. Me loves such games. But the rules weren’t clearly understood and that created a lot of confusion. Also, the day long activities had drained everyone leaving behind an air of exhaustion. Thus the game was abandoned as everyone committed ‘suicide’ by ‘jumping into the sea’.

We had a small session then with Vare kaka – Geeta Maushi’s husband, who told us about the fort, the village and everything. He told us of the villager’s efforts and the use of solar energy for producing electricity. The villagers had worked hard and achieved the resources. And their dedication to the environment along with looking after their own needs was commending. No harmful substance or method had ever been used.

Dinner was next. It was a welcome treat for the non-veggies with chicken. Delicious potato bhaji compensated it all for the veggies too. Oh and since I finished by gulping in the 1st round and was helping with serving, I also made some papads in Maushi’s chulha J Yaaay!

I INDIAN:

The girls moved to the middle room with 2 watch-guards at the door, so that changing could take place. Sudden transformation occurred, as it seemed like the Fairy Godmother had done her bit with the Cinderellas. The theme was traditional and all the girls strutted prettily in dresses, earrings et al.

We then moved with our torches to the temple to prepare for the diva lighting. It was New Year’s Eve and the night was chilly. The calm and the softness was unseen of otherwise at this time of the year. The ripples in the lake could be heard till the temple and it spread a certain feeling of belonging, of being someplace divine.

We arranged stuff and started lighting the divas as the other came along and everyone joined it. It felt grand and extraordinary to begin the New Year in such a glorious way.

THE HEART OF DARKNESS:

The temple was lit with 84 mud lamps. It spilled the light all around and everyone’s faces seemed to be throwing out the light too. In moments the dark area was transformed, as we looked how it stood majestic and proud.

The temple is very very ancient, about 600-1000 years old, as Rohit pointed out. In telling us the glorious history of the temple, we could see his enthusiasm and interest showing up on his face.

The existence of the temple was hidden until a few years back. All that could be seen was the top as the rest of it was buried in the mud. The temple was then excavated very recently and the rectangular pit around the minaret stands proof to it. The temple dates back to the Hemadipant era when all the structures were created out of stone. The pillars in this temple too were all carved from a single block of stone. The pillars had flat spaces at points, which were for placing the ‘pantis’ or mud lamps.

The other unique characteristic of the temple is the Gow Mukh or ‘Nandi’ from whose mouth the water flows, placed at the entrance. A constant stream of water flows there even during summer, which is also the source of the lake. This is the reason it is called a ‘live lake’, and the water is extremely useful. The water from the underground stream always keeps it full, and a few other such underground streams and reservoirs feed the people and resources of Rajmachi.

Vare kaka, during his session told us of the plans by the villagers in association with the local authorities to clean up the lake and turn it into a drinking-water reservoir. The lake would be fenced and no one will be allowed. This will also solve a lot of problems since the villagers have to walk carrying water pots on their heads in order to get drinking water from far away places.

In the midst came along Hemant with his ‘bride-to-be’. Unmistakably it was Rohit, decked up in a skirt and scarf and grinning all along. This was the finale to a prank that was being played all along with the entire group. In fact, in curiosity, the boys had even carried Hemant on their shoulders the previous night and walked around parading so that he would reveal her name!

After the lighting of the temple, we exchanged New Year greetings. And everyone sat around the tank as fishpond was played. Fun chits and messages had everyone in a burst of laughter, till we could no longer play as the cold was getting to us! We headed back to the cottage for some sweet sleep.

HEADING HOME:

Next morning was supposed to be a trip to Manaranjan, but sleep did not leave anybody as everyone overslept. Leena, Mango and Rajashree left the night before. We got up and readied ourselves so that we could leave after tea.

The downhill journey was via the Karjat route. This path was shorter and a little more rough as it was not ‘prepared’. For those not used to trekking, it may have been easy to get lost. Thankfully, as Raj showed me, there were arrows on many of the stone that previous trekkers had made for directions.

I was slow, and my stupid shoes did not help. And to avoid further delay or a mishap, Parag Dada caringly assigned Raj to help me descend. And I was grateful, as he walked ahead helping me at any tough patch, and teaching me some tricks along the way. He told me how walking cross-legged helps and how keeping the balance towards the mountain side helps in case you fall as you don’t drop into the valley. I did trip quite a few times in the mud and was laughing at my own constant clumsiness that did not leave me even here!

Everyone moved ahead in groups and the organizers had walkie-talkies to communicate. This route is a steep path down the mountain, interjected by 3 plateaus along the way. Just before the last plateau I sprained my feet and couldn’t walk straight any longer. It was really nice to have the organizers concerned and worrying as I tried to gather myself and be normal.

The route ends at the village of Kharaundi, from where is a straight walk along an isolated road. It can get monotonous but the scenic view of the whole mountain on either side is quite exhilarating. Also, for me, it was a different experience as Sameer pointed out the fort for me where we were, and I comprehended the distance. From here we walked to Kondivade and were treated to Pepsi-colas by Sam again. We then took tempos to Karjat station and the way we fit into one was a sight to be seen. It seemed like anyone would just fall out any moment!

FAREWELL THEE MY FELLOW TRAVELLER:

Karjat station and ticket-buying, and Lakshi and me ran for the 12.15 train, but missed it. Fortunate for us as the entire group then traveled together. Train had its own share of fun with the hoax palmistry session by Baba Lakshikachandra. On the other side were Tapan, Girish, Raj and me involved in profundities and theories about life and a lot more.

One by one everyone got off at their respective stations and bid adieu to the group. Tapan, Sameer, Parag dada and me traveled together in the train to Borivli.

I returned home, with hurting feet, aching back, frizzy hair and a huge smile that was filled with memorable moments and a great time. It was the joy of having spent a New Year in a unique way, of feeling nature and of letting myself go loose in the wild. I made new friends, and though there may have been intimidations on this trek, a bond was formed that cleared the way for communication and a stronger friendship. We all were united in our passion for nature, for madness, for exploration, and yet we are different in how we experience it. Our experience is ours, yet it’s incomplete without the others. And this network of independence due to dependence was what gave me great moments.

(Nature pics courtesy Rohit Nayak and Sameer Patel. Other pics 'lifted' from albums of Tapan, Sujay, Hemant and Rahul. Thanks guys!)