The ring

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I have never worn a ring
before she put one on me.
It felt strangely new.
Intrusive, at times irritating,
like someone barging into my privacy
like someone shadowing me everywhere
like someone's just been glued to me.
Strange
because this is not how it should be.
What clause did I miss reading
while signing up for it?

Its presence was loud and big
in my conscience,
blocking my view of the world. 

In less than a week
it has become a part of me,
like someone
who I share my privacy with
who accompanies me everywhere
who has just become inseparable.

When I part with it for a brief while
I feel something is missing.
Now I understand.
I see the world through the ring,
like I see the world through my glasses
for clear vision!

I guess marriages will be like this!

-GS

The world's most beautiful game of chess

Very recently I got to be part of what is to me the world's most beautiful game of chess. Yes, beautiful. Not the most intelligent, not the most brainy but the most beautiful and perhaps the most poetic! The players of this game were me and my four-year old niece.

So on a lazy weekend afternoon, she picked up the chess board and suggested that we play chess. I was curious. I did not even know that she knew this game. For my age, I am nothing more than a novice in chess. I know only the names of the coins and the rules of the game. But for a child's play, this is far sufficient and so I too agreed to play chess.

But to quench my curiosity, I asked her if she knew to play chess. She said yes. I asked who taught her to play chess. She said she had learnt it herself by watching cartoon characters play chess. Wow! Is my niece that brilliant? Should I take her to an IQ test just in case she is the next girl wonder whiz-kid? As my thoughts were spinning in this direction, she asked me which colour I wanted.

I gave her the option to pick herself and she took white. I asked her if she knew the names of the coins. She said yes and that her mother - yes, my sister - had taught her the names of the coins. Then I asked her if she knew how to move the coins. By this time, she lost her patience and gave me a 'Ellam theriyum.. Nee moodu' look and went on with the game. The game began thus!

She took one of the white coins from the box and placed it on a random square on her side and asked me to make my move. Wait a minute! What? I did not get what was happening. I asked her aren't we supposed to arrange all coins in the starting position before making the first move. She looked at me as if I knew nothing and then volunteered to teach me the game. Here is how the game should be played.

Chess is a two-player game. Each player plays with a set of coins of one colour. The players have to place their coins on their side of the chess board on alternate turns and play the game. While they are placing the coin on the board, they have to correctly tell the name of the coin. And most importantly, the players have to place coins in the board, one at a time from the box outside. And whenever a player feels like doing it, he/she can take a coin and attack one of the opponent coins and push it out of the box. Simple!

So I got a hang of the game's rules and thus we began playing the world's most beautiful game of chess. In response to her first move, I took one black bishop and placed it in the board on my side. Her move. She took out another white coin and introduced that coin as the elephant to me and placed it on her side of the board. A few moves went thus. The board was half filled with coins and suddenly she went on attack mode. She took one of her horses and the horse came flying to attack a poor soldier of mine and the soldier was pushed out of the board.

I responded by taking an elephant of mine and I attacked her bishop. She did not expect my move and this time she came back with a vengeance. She took the other bishop and took out my elephant. Then I resorted to the white flag. I suggested that we play normally and not attack each other. She thought for a moment and accepted my peace offer. In an amazingly magnanimous gesture, she even brought the attacked coins from both sides back into play because of the ceasefire. When I asked her why she is putting those coins back on the board, she said 'pavam la.. let them also play'. I was grinning ear to ear by that time. Then came her masterstroke.

She took another coin from her box and placed it outside the box on the floor and asked me to make my move. Is this the out-of-the-box way of playing chess? I was no more asking questions. I should not expect her to teach me everything. I should also pick up the game by seeing it. So I took a coin from the box and placed it closer to where she placed her last coin on the floor. She gave me an acknowledging smile and took a coin from the board now and placed it in the floor. Ah, the game began interesting here! We both knew the rules of the game perfectly and were playing in sync.

I took another coin from the board and placed it on a chair nearby. She took another coin from the floor and started running to the next room and placed it on the floor there. Thus we played chess all around the home for the next thirty minutes and when both of us felt it was time for a draw, we called the game off and put all the coins back into the box and kept the box carefully in its place. Well, that's her habit. She is so particular about the place of each thing. Every toy of hers has a place in the home and after playing, she makes sure that the toy is put in its right place.

So that is the story of the world's most beautiful game of chess, of which I am one of the proud players too. And it is thoroughly my privilege to have played this game with its inventor herself. Bliss.

Cheers,
GS


Image courtesy : Doug Butchy

Being nobody to anybody - a ride to Pondicherry seeking inspiration for art

I had an item on my bucket list ever since college. I wanted a solo vacation to some place where I have never been before, all in solitude. Being nobody to anybody. If possible, living a whole new life for a few days in that place. What if I had only enough money for travelling one way to that place and had to earn the money to come back? I can wait tables, work as salesman in bookshops or do whatever that I must/can do to earn my return ticket. Well, that grand plan is still in the bucket list. But very recently, I managed to draw a dotted line on this item in the bucket list.

Back in college, I discussed this plan with friends and a few were actually curious about the idea. One such friend who even contemplated this escape into anonymity is now lined up for a wedding and I am skeptical if he would ever get to take this vacation. Quite recently, a few rounds of routine overdose in life was pushing me for an escape to recharge and come back. Plus, I can just wake up one morning and pick up my bike's keys and go. Thus, I started riding three days back. Pondicherry was in my mind. Not a very long ride to boast for a biker from Chennai but a scenic ride along the ECR and definitely in the list for an unwinding ride. Of course, I had enough money to return back. I am not taking that adventure yet :-)

In solitude, I started riding to Pondicherry. Whenever I go on long rides like this, I imagine myself as playing a long Test match innings like Rahul Dravid. Patience and focus and enjoying the ride. I ride at a steady pace, always focussing on only the next turn and covering short stretches mentally. You need to pace your ride just like you pace an innings. I was curious about Auroville for some time and I had it in the back of my mind. I even crossed sign boards to Auroville even before reaching Pondicherry. Nevertheless, I entered Pondicherry. I rode around the streets aimlessly wondering where to go and what to do. This is where a crazy idea stuck me. Remember the part about living a new life, just for a fleeting few days?

I entered a stationery shop and bought a few chart papers and basic painting kit. I rolled the charts and kept them in my bag but still visible outside. I decided to call myself an artist. Disclaimer: Prior experience with art for me is limited to drawing the mountains and sea and the house with the adjacent coconut tree in third standard. Still, in a stroke of imagination, I became an artist in Pondicherry seeking inspiration for his art in solitude. I decided to reduce conversations with people as much as possible and experience peace. I rode around the beach and sat on the beach for a good hour. A group of youngsters asked me to take a pic of them. Looking at my bag they asked if I was an architect since I was carrying charts and all. I told them I am an artist looking for inspiration for my art. "Paathaale theriyudu boss" - they replied and went along. See? It is simple. Go to a new place. Tell them that you are a rocket scientist. They will believe. Who bothers? (By the way, as I sat there in the beach staring into the horizon, a poem bubbled inside me. I penned it in Tamil later. It might be an interesting read if you are into Tamil and poetry.)

As I was strolling, I spotted a boutique run by Auroville and I walked in to check for any accommodation. Fortunately, the man there suggested an irresistible place for me - a guest house in the middle of a quiet jungle at Kuilapalayam village en route Auroville. A few calls were made and my halt was finalized. The guest house, I must say is a step closer to bliss compared to any other place I have ever been to. That much silence! That much peace. I stayed in the first floor portion with a huge balcony, surrounded by trees and birds with one hanging rope chair tied to a tree. Wow! Of course, I introduced myself as the artist in solitude there too.

For two days I stayed in that guest house conversing mostly with trees, birds, flowers, my bike, sea and very limitedly to humans. In all, I would have spoken around fifty sentences in total. I did not switch off my phone. I wondered if I should do that, lest people spoil the adventure. I just chose to let it go and observe. In total, six people called me and just one person texted me. That's all! Two whole days. Only we think we are always busy and we will get hundred phone calls a day. Slip out of the routine silently for a short while and nobody will observe.

Living up to my new identity, I even tried my hand at art. I just enjoyed playing with colours and tried something new without bothering anything about the results with a child-like curiosity. I managed to do three abstract pieces of art - that's how I would like to call them. Art in a language that only I and the paper will understand; a language through colours and direct thoughts. It was an amazing indulgence.

The ride to Pondicherry - Art by GS

Thrice a day, for food I came out of the jungle to the nearby village and there I enquired the locals about Pichavaram Mangrove forests, a place I have only heard of. I fancied a ride to Pichavaram as a crescendo for this trip. It sounded like a short ride from there. So the next morning, I bade farewell to the guest house and the trees and started riding. Rahul Dravid mode again. Pondicherry to Pichavaram (closer to Chidambaram). I reached the boat house as early as 8 30 AM in a Kadai epo saar thorapeenga style. Boats were just beginning to go into the backwaters and I joined with two interesting men from Bangalore who were very jovial conversationalists. Our boat's driver, a strong man who rowed the boat with his hands, explained to us about the forests and the place and took us on a two hour boat ride. We spotted a few characteristic animals and birds of the mangrove forests and spent the two hours in a very interesting casual conversation with strangers. I needed this conversation to come out of the enforced silence of the past two days to fit back into the society.

By noon today, I started the ride back to Chennai with the road and my bike for company. In a decent ride of around 250 km, I reached Chennai by evening. Photo stoppages were here and there of course. Tomorrow is a monday morning and I hope this little escape will put me in good shape back into the routine. It all looks like a dream for me to recollect the trip now from my study room. The artist may perhaps emerge sometime later again in another escape into anonymity.

As I narrated all this to the room mates this evening - the silence, anonymity, artist bluff, Pichavaram, solo ride - a friend gave me a long stare and said that I need to go and visit some psychiatrist. Of course I am crazy. I am proud of that :-)

Cheers
GS 

This is how people reacted at a real accident scene

A couple of days back in an unforgettable midnight, I witnessed a road accident. What moved me greatly was that I could do more than being a mere witness. I could be of real help in saving a few lives. What inspired me greatly was that I was not alone. I had company. In a godforsaken highway lane at midnight, I had company to help injured people and calm them at their moment of panic. I was part of a crowd. I am proud to be part of this crowd.

Quite recently, several videos on apparent 'social experiments' which capture the reactions of people to emergencies and distress calls were doing the rounds on social media. Most of them were hard-hitting and showing the cold side of human negligence. A friend of mine recently wrote on his wall that the society in stead needed a lot of positive examples showing displays of empathy and humanity coming out of such 'social experiments', because deep inside, constant exposure to videos of negligence and apathy may slowly make the mind numb to situations and trick it into believing that it is okay not to act when a person is dying in front of you. This kept me thinking. Positive examples. Real examples. Reactions of real people in a real situation where people need help.

I believe that what inspired me will inspire several minds. I believe that what reinforced my faith in humanity will also touch several hearts and reassure them that humanity prevails. Hence I write this today.

I was travelling by a bus from Madurai to Chennai on a Sunday night and I was fast asleep. I was woken up when my bus halted roughly and for a few minutes I could not realize what is happening. In a few crucial minutes, I saw people getting down from the bus and running out and I could make out from broken words and conversations that an accident had just happened in front of us. Quite unsure of the happenings, I stepped out of the bus, still a bit sleepy. Once I was out of the silence and darkness inside my bus, I quickly realized adrenalin shooting up inside me.

Just a few metres ahead, I saw a tumbled mini bus. People were running here and there. Along with my bus, another bus had also stopped and passengers from both these buses were already rescuing the injured people out of the damned mini bus. The bus was lying on its side and people were being pulled out of the windows. The front windshield of the bus was cracked into pieces and some of the passengers entered the mini bus through the windshield and were lifting people out of it. Glass pieces were all around. Blood was all around. Panic cries were all around. It was horrible.

Answer

Answer

Knock knock!

Girl I see now
that I know you not.
Enough.

I need to know.

What makes you laugh?
What makes you cry?
What makes you do both?

What are your dreams?
What are your means?

What turns you around?
What turns you on?

Whom do you own?
Whom do you owe?

What puzzles you solve?
What puzzles you be?

What art you paint?
What canvas you prefer?

What makes you cuddly?
What makes you deadly?

What wisdom you seek?
What madness you devour?

What investments you make?
What adventures you take?

And more importantly..
What empties you?
Yet fulfills you?

I need to know.
Answer to all these.
And then perhaps,
I need to
be
answer to all these.

I have a lifetime left.
Let me in.

- GS

Image courtesy : mouton.rebelle

Dream Factory

Balaji is a confident young boy who studies at a Corporation School in North Chennai.  He is never shy of talking to strangers and elders confidently in his mother-tongue Tamil. He has seen several foreigners talk fluently in English and has never got an opportunity to talk to any of them. Given a chance, he would try!

Ahmed is a cute and shy young boy studying in Balaji's class. He has an Aryan origin and his relatives stay in the northern parts of India. He stays with his parents in Chennai. He could not figure out where he belongs- not only geographically! He had a problem with memory, communication and confidence. A deadly trio! Any one of these three problems on its own is adequately sufficient to pull someone firmly down to the floor while trying to spread one’s wings. Ahmed was pressed hard by all three of them. His wings were slowly becoming numb to ambitions.

Balaji and Ahmed came together in a group at ‘Kanavu Pattarai’ – a 4-day residential camp that Nalandaway, an NGO, facilitates in association with the Government of Tamil Nadu and Dakshin Chithra – a south Indian heritage centre on Chennai’s East Coast Road.

On the fourth day of the camp, they were standing behind a table with a lot of painted charts, paper masks, balloons, colour papers and their fellow group mates, putting up a display of their learnings and creations accomplished at the camp. Adrenalin levels were soaring high in both their bodies. Their school mates had set up an art exhibition full of their own works and the public touring Dakshin Chithra were invited to drop by and have a look. This is where they met James.

AtoZ #26 - Zen

Zen

First stay still. Then stay till..

- GS

Image courtesy : Steve Johnson

Curious? Check out my introduction to the AtoZ blogging mission of six-word stories. 

Cheers,

GS

AtoZ #21 - Unknown

Unknown

Sought the unknown. Dived. Bottom missing!

- GS

Image courtesy : Nektarios Sylligardakis

Curious? Check out my introduction to the AtoZ blogging mission of six-word stories. 

Cheers,

GS

You are stronger than what you think - CTC Nagalapuram - Moderate trek experience

I spent the two hardest days of my life over the last weekend, trekking up the Nagalapuram hill, guided by the Chennai Trekking Club (CTC) with a group of around 80 explorers. Sitting in my couch now and thinking back about it, I can safely claim that I survived it, but only just! My body was pushed to its limits like never before and to a good extent, so was my mind. They both remained strong and sane till the finish line was crossed but the satisfaction I feel now is worth all the pain I endured.

This trek was labelled a 'moderate trek' on difficulty levels by CTC and we had to go through a fitness test to be shortlisted for this trek. It involved climbing the Pallavaram hill opposite Chennai Airport in a rough terrain with around a 10 kg backpack in under 10 minutes. I managed to do that in 8 mins and with the experience of a few treks prior to this (treks to Tada and Kumara Parvatha are the ones I have written about earlier), I had a good impression about my fitness and endurance. But this trek eventually turned out to be a great reality check for me. 

We started around 5 AM from Chennai on saturday, carpooling to the parking zone at the foothills. Two sub-groups were set to explore the same hills with two different objectives. There were several boot campers whose objectives were to navigate the mountain and reach pre-determined points assigned to them in teams of three. They had undergone training sessions earlier about topography, map creation, trail planning and analysis, compass, geographic latitude and longitude, GPS, navigation and positioning. Ours was the trekking group and our objective was pretty simple and straight forward: 

Climb up till you meet your forefathers. Get down alive if you want to meet your family and friends. 

*Minor terms and conditions like minimal food and water; steep,risky rock-climbing and the unmerciful April sun also apply. 

The trek started with a fairly long walk from the parking to a dried dam across which the mountain started. Not only was it dry but the trees supposed to be under water in the dam were all charred and the place gave a fair glimpse of what lay ahead. Not knowing those implications, we happily took pictures for Facebook uploads there. Should have read those signs properly!

We proceed to the base camp from there which was set up along a stream where the two groups diverged. Peter, the founder of CTC, joined us with the trekking group. The boot campers had their tasks assigned to them. From the base camp we started a challenging trek upwards. Water was a rarity in most places and wherever we saw water, we had to fill our stomachs and bottles as much as possible. The highlight of the trek came just a few minutes later, where we reached a crevice where water was flowing down from the top. Peter asked us to climb up the crevice to proceed forward. What is so tough in this climb? 

Water flowing down the crevice falls at a very deep pool down down. One can't climb up the crevice in normal mode. You have to switch on the 'Spiderman' mode and push on your feet and hands from left to right in an almost vertical crevice. Between your legs, there flows the silvery stream ready to take you down to the deep end the moment you place a foot on it. I don't know the actual name of that point but I propose it to be called 'Spiderman crevice'. 

Climbing the spiderman crevice

Then we continued the trek through terrains that got more and more challenging till we reached a near dead-end. Peter and another veteran trekker decided to halt there for lunch and we unpacked the sweet bolis and bread that we had packed for lunch. There were some home made chocolates too. I was wondering how we would proceed forward from that place since it was covered on three sides with very steep rocks and the trail from where we came up there ended behind us. The last thing I wanted was Peter telling us all to return in the same route to some other point. He had other surprises for me! A few minutes after lunch, he effortlessly climbed one of those rocks that was inclined at almost 70-80 degrees and asked us to follow. He seemed to walk on those steep rocks as if he were walking in the Marina beach in the early morning. 

Every now and then, he would do that. He would become invisible suddenly and while we all think that he has stayed behind for some reason and get some happiness that there will be time to rest till he comes, he jumps from some rock ahead of us with his unique base voice, egging us on 'Up.. Up.. Up'! And whenever we start after a break, he would give us an estimate of time to reach the next halting point. Very soon, we learnt to multiply the time he mentions into three for our understanding. We were in the ratio of 1:3 to Peter. 

After an arduous trek, we reached a point where Peter decided to halt. There was no trace of water and teasingly small amounts of shade. He asked for a smaller team to volunteer to go on a detour and fetch water for everybody. According to him, the water team was supposed to go around 1.2 kilometres from there to fetch water. While we happily stayed behind, one of my friends joined the water warriors. And we stayed and waited for them to come back and resurrect us from the dead. After an hour, they came back with water. Apparently, they had almost walked 3-4 km for water since water had dried up in the place where it was expected to be. I told my friend that we would all have been dead there if they had not come with water for 10 more minutes. And he replied quickly that they would all have been dead there if they had not found water for ten more minutes! Life's like that in Nagala in April. 

After water and rest for a while, we did a single stretch descent via a trail that took us close to the base camp. Close to the base camp, we went to a pool and took a refreshing dip and ended the day. Or at least I thought that was the end of the day! After the pool, we had to trek upstream for nearly 2 hours in the dark, equipped with our torches, slipping into the stream every now and then, to reach a place where there was sufficient flat space for us all to bunk for the night. Maggi Noodles was prepared for everyone and after eating up to recharge ourselves for the next day, we slept there. What a night it was! With the sound of flowing water nearby and the beautiful stars above us and two steep hills to the either side of us, it was one of the best places where I have slept. 

Our bunking spot by the stream

Day 2 started early with tea and Aval for breakfast. Peter informed us that we will do a mini easy trek to a level 1 and then those who wish can join him on a challenging trek to a level 2. I and my friends had almost made up our minds to stop at level 1. We had already neared our limits and considering the 1:3 ratio, Peter's proposal did sound intimidating. On the way to level 1, we paused briefly for a dip in an amazing sliding pool. Non-swimmers like me could also enjoy it with the help of the rescue team. The pool was deep where the water fell and a few feet ahead, it was shallow enough for us to stand. You just have to trust the swimmers down there and slide and fall into the water. They will pull you to safety in a few seconds. Complete surrender! 

Slide pool

Level 1 was truly a mini trek from the sliding pool and Peter said that those who wanted to stay back can play at the sliding pool till the others returned. It was a very tempting offer and I was almost leaning 70:30 to stay. Then casually Peter uttered the words I will never forget, "Level 2 will differentiate the men from the boys. Those who have balls join me for level 2". That's how my misery started! In spite of all the campaigning done by a few friends to stay back with them, for the sake of my ego, I joined the level 2 group. 

The trek to level 2 was risky, exhausting and highly demanding. Angles of the climbs became even steeper, rock edges became even narrower and slippery, thorns adorned the routes all the way and the sun was sucking every drop from the body. Two legs would not suffice and you had to put all four limbs to good use in this route. This is the stretch where I almost lost my will to continue further. From my experience in this trek - one needs to have two of the following three to complete this moderate trek. 

1. Extremely strong physical fitness and stamina
2. Experience/ habit of highly regular physical activities like jogging, sport etc.
3. Extremely strong mental resolve

'Extremely' is a key word above and 'decent' is not an acceptable word there. I have decent stamina and no regular physical activity and hence my mental resolve had to work more than its share to make me complete the trek.It required great effort to climb without any luggage for myself and there were people carrying food and water in small backpacks in front of me. Every now and then I could not help but stand still and admire their fitness. Unfortunately, the others misunderstood that I was gasping for breath whenever I took those admiration stoppages :-)

The level 2 group

No, but honestly I was the last person to reach level 2 in the group and I had almost given up on the way once or twice. I owe a lot to the support and motivation by the kind hearts who stayed with me at the tail of the group and pushed me on inch by inch. I remember giving Peter a smiling thumbs-up when I reached the top in one piece and that moment was my certificate! There were a lot of kind souls at the top who shared some of their precious food and water supplies to refill my energy. 

The view from the top was breathtaking. We headed on to the next destination where we expected water to quench our thirst. A big surprise awaited us there. There was water but it was just flowing as a thin oily layer on the rocks. It required some ingenious thinking to get water there. A fellow trekker tied a kerchief to a root and channelised the water thread to fall into a bottle and we would get 1 litre of water every 15 minutes this way. To quench the thirst of 20 odd trekkers!

Flowrate  : 1 litre/ 15 mins

We waited for the sun's severity to come down a bit and started the descent after a 2-hour break at that point. It was a mini climb up and then a fairly long descent all along rough rocks to finally catch a trail that would take us down in a relatively easier route. From there it was only a matter of time till we joined the wiser ones who stayed at level 1 and then to the dam and then to the car park and then to home. 

The trek gave me a lot of revelations and a few moments to swallow my pride. I am very thankful to my body and mind for staying with me till the end. I owe a lot to the mutual support and motivation exhibited among the whole trekking group, egging each other on and finding a lot of happy moments to share a joke and spread smiles. I admire and respect Peter and his team for their superior fitness first and then to the initiatives in organizing and leading us as a group. 

As I said, I was the last person to reach level 2. But to those who stayed back in level 1, I was part of a group that accomplished a monumental feet. To those who watched cricket in the comfort of their homes this weekend, I was part of a group that challenged itself to scale a peak and live with nature in its true form. That is all that matters!

I hear that there is a common phrase used in military training which goes like 'You are stronger than what you think you are'! Very true. New benchmarks have been set this weekend for my mind and body. Let's see how far I can push them further!

Cheers,

GS

Kumara Parvatha - how Jack and Jill went up the hill

Signs of triumph

((To read a Tamil version of this post, please click here))

Pushpagiri aka Kumara Parvatha. A breath-taking challenge of 5617-ft. height in the Western ghats of Karnataka. One of the toughest treks of South India. A total distance of 22 km by foot up and down the peak. Two days and a night at the top. Thirteen men. What a start it was to 2014!

The most-debated topic in our terrace conversations over the last few months was where to celebrate the coming new year. Several options from Besant Nagar to Andaman were contemplated and pushed aside in cycles for want of better ideas. We looked for something fresh and challenging. That is when a friend first floated the idea of Kumara Parvatha. He had tried in vain earlier in December 2012 with another social circle to ascend this peak. Unfortunately, their cool adventure turned soggy in incessant rains and irritating leech-bites, forcing them to return midway. The idea tickled our taste and then we actively marketed the trek among the extended circle of friends. You convince A by saying that B comes to the trek and convince B by saying the vice-versa and in a matter of days, the trip was scheduled and all arrangements were finalized. Not all of us are trek enthusiasts or hunks-by-physique. It was to be a story of amateur Jack and Jill trekkers going up the hill, risking a few falls, rolls and trolls. Nevertheless, we were ready!

The internet blessed us with more than adequate information for prompt planning. People approach the hill from two directions. Somwarpete and Kukke are two towns at either end of the peak. The distance by road going around the hill to connect the towns is about 60 km. If you take a casual stroll on the peak and get down at the other side, it is just 22 km! Kukke is a reasonably livelier town that Somwarpete. It has a famous Subramanya temple to add to its portfolio too. Trekkers can choose to start from Somwarpete and get down at the Kukke side or to do a to-and-fro from Kukke. We chose the former. For later, it should never bother us that we did not experience the other side of the mountain.

"Me too"

Have you ever played with a rain drop at the window seat of a train? Moisture will embrace the window bars as a thin coat. A pristine tiny drop takes the initiative and starts to move a horizontal path along the bar. On its way it accumulates more wetness and grows in weight till it reaches a tipping point. And you observe all this drama unfolding with an outstretched palm waiting for the drop to gently bless you with a touch. The trick is in judging where the drop decides to fall and being there just at the right time and the right spot to receive it. Just like love! The iron bar of the window is time. Love, like the rain drop, gathers momentum as it travels along time and at some tipping point it decides to burst and reach out. If there is an outstretched palm waiting for the fall just at the right time, magic happens!

It's been a while and it is about time this happens. They simply did not know who should play the role of the drop and who should wait at the window seat. Somehow they both preferred the window seat. Enough signs were exchanged often that the palm is outstretched and waiting. May be they were just waiting for the rain. 

Strange Love

It had been a particularly long and mundane day that called for some unwinding in style. As dusk fell, I went to the terrace of my home to meet them. Darkness had blanketed the street and the neighbours were too busy to notice. The home is not a luxurious high-rise apartment. It is a normal second floor residence that gets rented out to a normal bachelor living a normal life. But the terrace is just the right height for this. Tall enough to escape the street light’s glare but just low enough to see them in the eye. In fact, this was one of the prime attractions for me to rent this house. I come here often to see them up close and talk to them.

It was humid even in the night. I waved them a warm greeting. They stood in silence. They were all around me but none moved an inch. I knew. It had been a fair interval since our last lengthy conversation. They would take their time to come into the groove and connect with me. But I waited. I threw random questions at them all, one by one, in all directions, hoping that someone would break the ice. Then the tallest of them all waved in response. A gentle waft of breeze caressed my face. The conversation had begun. How I love these conversations with the trees neighbouring my terrace!

Bike and trek to bliss – Chennai to Tada falls

It’s been a long while since I set out on a bike trip after two memorable previous experiences. Moreover I was waiting for the first adventure road trip on my ‘own’ bike too. A lot of plans came and went and finally the wait got a deserving due. Recently I accomplished a road trip to Tada falls (Andhra – Tamil Nadu border) from Chennai and trekked all the way upto the highest point we could touch in that hill. This story summarises that great experience.

The seeds for this trip were sown abroad. A friend (Vasu) of a friend (Anand) who studies abroad (ya... the same geeky GRE MS route after B Tech in Biotechnology) came back home recently. He was impressed by the movie Zindagi na milegi dobara and was planning such a trip with his friends. Anand, who is my colleague too, was browsing for a lot of such adventure tourism places in the 200 km radius of Chennai- mostly during office hours- and thus I came to know of it. Bugged by the bait, I also threw my hat in the ring for that trip. Hats came in plenty very soon into the ring. My friend Danie, who knows neither Anand nor Vasu, heard of this and he too joined in. Danie spread the word and his friends whom I do not know also planned to join. Eventually, we finalised the date and venue with exactly 20 people and 10 bikes to conquer Tada Falls. Funnily, the longest distance in degrees of acquaintance among these 20 turned out to be 4. Yes, connect any of Danie’s friends to Vasu! Try that. Thus we planned for everything and were excited about this trip with great scope for biking, trekking and befriending new people.

Raindrop's moment of truth

First raindrop
falls on the glass.
The sky shrinks!

- GS

Read the Tamil version of this haiku here.