Choosing a belief system.. Or not?

"A belief system is not something you choose.. It chooses you". As much as it sounds like a bumper sticker, I agree with this. There used to be a time when I was aware of different schools of thought, but they were merely textbook knowledge. I was never drawn to them - not to read and definitely not to reflect. Having grown up in Chennai, the hometown of Jiddu Krishnamurti and living a few kilometres away from his foundation, it was hard to not run into one of his lectures here, or another one of his books there. But it made about as much sense to me as would a C++ program to my dog. I 'wanted' to understand him 'cause it was cool, a lot of people who I looked up to read him and would throw around his quotes rather offhandedly in the middle of conversations. Everytime I tried reading him or listening to him, one of two things would happen - I would fall asleep on the book or his long, complex sentences comprising simple words would keep repeating themselves in my head, and made less and less sense, the more I pondered them. (It was his thoughts that seemed complex to me)

Three years later, I now live in the United States and like a lot of Indians, have revisited Hinduism (and the paradoxes that it comes with), and other schools of philosophy that have been influenced by it (like Nihilism). I had completely forgotten about Jiddu and his love for confounding me with his words. Then one day, I chanced upon one of his videos on youtube. And it resonated loud and clear with me!

How did this happen? I'm unable to reduce this to the same as reading a book or watching a movie several times to uncover layers you didn't get the first time. Agreed, in the book/movie example you grow in maturity over each read/watch and are able to see new things. But a belief system?

As Ray Bradbury says - "We're a fabulous mulch of everything that's gone into our heads".  How exactly did the mulch created by the experiences of the last three years draw me to towards the things I believe in, today? If I had to trace it down to a series of links, I suppose I could. After all, given the kind of information we have at our disposal, I suppose I could prove a connection between fractal geometry and the Taliban, if I had to. Just saying.

Bodhi Zendo

 Disclaimer : This post is a bit late but at least its out now, so yay!

Attending a meditation retreat has been on my mind for quite sometime. For several reasons.

1) I used to be an active meditator in 2011 and 2012 had too much going on to maintain a regular practice. I needed something to kick me back into meditating regularly.
2) I'm in India, of course I have to attend a retreat! (No I'm not American/European, its just that its so much cheaper and people don't chant mantras with annoying accents)
3) I needed to get away from the scorching heat of Chennai's agni nakshatram that was threatening to gobble up my vacation.

Plus, I needed something that would end before May 20th. Most meditation retreats are on hills and they have patchy cell phone reception and internet, plus they are all about 'being' and not doing, so I was pleasantly surprised when Bodhi Zendo got back to me in a matter of hours.

So it turns out that Bodhi Zendo is apparently the only Zen Buddhist center in ALL of INDIA. It is located in Perumalmalai, about 12 kms before Kodaikanal. If you're going from Chennai/Pondicherry/Madurai or any major city in Tamilnadu, there are plenty of direct buses to Kodaikanal, and Perumalmalai is a stop on the way. Even if you aren't leaving from a city, you still have those buses - I took a train from Chennai to Dindigul and took a bus to Perumalmalai. Oh the joy of listening to Ilayaraja songs on a mofussil bus, watching paddy fields :) (That will need a post of its own).

Bodhi Zendo is up on an estate, so you'll need a jeep to take you to their premises.

The day you arrive, they'll take you through an orientation session that covers everything you need to know about the premises, rules to follow during the meditation sessions etc.

Their schedule is somewhat like this :

5:30 am : Wake up gong
6-7 am : Formal Zazen (sitting meditation)
7-8 am : Breakfast
8-9:30 am: Samu/Seva
9:30 am : Coffee/Tea
10:30 - 12 noon : Silence
12-12:30 : Free zazen
12:30 - 1:30 pm : Lunch
1:30 - 4 pm: Silence
4 pm : Coffee/Tea
6 - 7 pm : Formal Zazen
7 - 8 pm : Dinner
8-8:30 pm : Free zazen

The formal zazens happen in the meditation room and are mandatory, whereas the free zazens can be done in your room or anywhere, as long as you're silent and maintain the spirit of mindfulness.

5:30 pm to 7 am is silent time everyday and Wednesdays are reserved for full silence. If you're the social butterfly type who can't be quiet for a second, this part's going to be hard. However, I found silence to be hugely refreshing - to be able to hear the sound of every bird chirping, every cricket and frog croaking.

This is their regular shcedule. They also have mini sesshins and full sesshins, three days and six days in length respectively, where one spends longer hours in meditation. (something like 6-8 hours everyday!). Be prepared to have a sore back from hours of sitting still. The sesshins however are absolutely silent. So if you're new to meditation, you might want to check out their daily schedule before committing to a full sesshin. More info here :

http://www.bodhizendo.org/

Thursdays are free days - people head into Kodaianal to shop, lounge by the lake etc. I decided to Join Meg and Bridgette (An Australian and a Belgian), on a trek to a small waterfall in an unknown village. Despite warnings about wild dogs and lack of local language knowledge, they were ready to march into the wilderness with only a stick for protection! Just as the center's manager Sasi was in the process of dissuading them from going, I joined them and reassured him that we'd all be fine.

It was an 8 km trek and I can't remember the last time I trekked such a distance, but after a few hours we reached a village called 'Anju Veedu' (Five houses). The lady at the potti kadai (Box shop) sent a boy over to guide us to the falls. (He was in the midst of playing an intense cricket match and hated the interruption). We crossed two streams, hopped skipped and jumped over some boulders and 20 minutes later, found the falls. It was not a very big one, but silent and non-touristy. Perfect. After sending the boy off and lounging around, taking photos etc., we made our way back.

Everything was fine and dandy until we heard a strange, angry moo-ing behind us. Turn around and there's a cow charging at us on our trail! We hid behind some trees, hoping and praying it wouldn't butt us. At one point, it indignantly stared Meg in the eye. Those were the most tense two minutes I've had in a long time.

The next day we had an impromptu music session at the tea house in the Japanese garden - an aurovillean on the flute (If you didn't know, that's what people from Auroville call themselves) , me and a couple of others on vocals.

Bodhi Zendo has been a great place to 'do' less, wander about and gaze at nature, chase bees for pictures (I spent a full hour trying to get a good shot of one of them as it hopped from sunflower to sunflower and trust me, that hour went by in the blink of an eye), talk to fellow retreaters (is that even a word?) and write. I enjoyed writing my diary after ages, sitting in my room overlooking the hills. It felt like the silence in nature inspired silence inside of me.

There is enough flora and fauna within Bodhi Zendo to go bird watching or plant watching.

And they have this step cultivation thing going on. (The first thing that struck me when I saw it was 'wow I remember that from fourth grade geography!')

 

It took me a few days to get into the routine but once I did, I did not want to leave. Bodhi Zendo definitely gives one a seamless 'each day flows into the next' kind of peace.

My last day here happened to be my thirtieth birthday and I remember thinking to myself - "When was the last time I woke up at 6 on my birthday?" It was quite a pleasant change to spend it quietly, without anyone knowing its your birthday. It was just me, the birds, bees, and the mountains. Loved it.

The retreat stilled my mind in ways nothing else has in recent times, so much so that I felt the effects of it even after I returned to hot, sweaty Chennai in the middle of May.  I look forward to going back to Bodhi Zendo and staying longer :)

Analysis of a lucid dream

So all of this began rather innocently, about two weeks ago. I had been meaning to watch a film called 'The science of sleep', mostly because I'm a huge Michel Gondry fan( Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind) and I had just learnt that this film stars Gael Garcia Bernal, of whom I'm certain that I'm madly in love with. Its a fascinating film about a guy who has a wild life in his dreams, so much so that he cannot distinguish it from reality. This set off a marathon of films about dream psychology and I watched another jaw-dropping film called 'Waking Life', which deals extensively with lucid dreaming and how to experiment with it. (I will come to lucid dreaming in a bit)

Between all of this, I had been having certain odd dreams and like most people, discarded it as unimportant. Despite the discarding, I noticed that the frequency of dreams and the number of dreams in each sleep session (afternoon siestas included) kept rising. I don't keep a dream journal as such but I would go over the dreams mentally - once as soon as I woke up and still in the overlapping zone between sleep and wakefulness, the second time about fifteen minutes into the day and a third time about an hour into the day.

So a lucid dream is a type of dream where the dreamer is aware that she is in a dream and is able to control it. Apparently one can fly, have out of body experiences and so on. I have been having lucid dreams fairly recently but didn't know that it was called a lucid dream,until I watched 'Waking Life'. Last week,I dreamed that I was on a talk show hosted by Eckhart Tolle and we were exchanging notes before going on air :) I didn't write this down until today and when I did, certain things surfaced.I realized how alert I was in the dream, with no wandering thoughts about the past and the future. How my ego did not say "You think you're good enough to be on a talk show hosted by Tolle?" Hell, in reality, my ego would have said "Are you stupid? No way on earth would Tolle ever have a talk show for chrissakes!". In my dream, my ego was nowhere to be seen. I felt the most non-judgmental I had ever felt. We were having a perfectly pleasant chat about what we'd discuss on the show. Now I get why the dream state is considered to be a higher state of consciousness than wakefulness.

Another interesting point raised by 'Waking Life' was whats called a reality check. This is a little test you perform while in the dream, to see if you're dreaming or not. In the movie, the lead tries to turn off a light switch. If you can't turn it off, then its a dream. In the dream that I had yesterday, I heard the voice of a Tamil folk singer (sounded a lot like Pushpavanam Kuppuswamy but it wasn't him, but we'll just call this character Kuppu for now). I was intensely aware that I was dreaming but I was also skeptical at the same time, 'cause I could only hear him, his body was missing. It was so loud that it was like he was sitting right next to me and singing just for me. And then I tried this as a reality check - I tried to change what he was singing. He was singing in a certain raaga and I tried to manipulate his song, the way I would sing it if I were to sing that song. And I realized that it just wouldn't change, and in fact, the more I tried to change it the more unfamiliar his phrasing got. It was like Kuppu had a will of his own!

I am still fairly new to all this, but the next time I'm going to try a more concrete reality check, maybe with an object. Has anyone had an audio-only dream?

Smoke that Cigarette!

So I came across this movie in the middle of writing the Ladakh post. Needed a break and was looking for something that wouldn’t be too heavy on the senses. For some reason, I seem to be shying away from the classics for awhile now. So while I was rummaging my movie collection, I came across ‘Thank you for smoking’. I had no idea what the film was about but a couple of friends had said it was a really cool flick. Considering it is by Jason Reitman, I was inclined to believe them,I absolutely loved ‘Up in the air’.

As the credits began to roll, I was blown away by the presentation style. Spoiler alert - Those of you who want to watch the film, please stop reading now.
The credits were all names on top of cigarette packs and the credit itself was the brand of a cigarette. Ingenious! There might have been other films with this style, but combined with Tex Williams’s unbelievably cute rendition of ‘Smoke that cigarette’, I was totally drawn into the experience of watching this movie.

Reitman is a filmmaker whose characters always have unenviable jobs – in ‘Up in the Air’ Clooney had to fire people and do it as kindly as possible. In ‘Thank you for smoking’,Aaron Eckhart plays Nick Naylor,the man with the most hated job in the world – That of a lobbyist for the Academy of Tobacco studies, which was supposedly set up to prove that smoking has no connection whatsoever to lung cancer..Reitman has won half the battle of making a good film by placing his protagonist in such unlikely professions,(not to undermine his storytelling skills though)

The film’s narrative style is nothing new, the voice over by the lead has got to be the easiest way to tell people what he’s thinking. Despite that, TYFS is a heartwarming tale of a man caught in a job not because he loves it but because he feels his skills are suited for doing just that.

Divorced with a ten year old son,Nick turns every situation where he could possibly get butchered by the press or the public into one where he comes out a winner – Herein lies the writer’s skills.TYFS is not an original screenplay,but adapted from a novel by Christopher Buckley.

Eckhart is a curious choice for the role of Nick Naylor,the tobacco lobbyist. I have always thought his face was better suited for comic roles –the cleft in the chin and angular jaw could have well been the mark of a hot model but he looks comical for some strange reason. The first time I saw him was in ‘the Dark Knight’ and I thought someone more dramatic looking should have done that role.Whatever.


As TYFS progresses,you realize Eckhart is cast quite well, as the character is someone who knows he is hated and has over time, come to handle that quite well, and to his advantage. Eckhart exudes a kind of subtle coolness, not sexy like Clooney and not boy next door like John Krasinski but somewhere in the middle – like a cool and quirky bank/insurance executive you might meet on one of those unexpected days.

TYFS is a journey film – Nothing dramatic happens, no loud background scores and no great resolution in the end. What is it about these films I have come to so love these days? Unlike heavy plot based films that don't have time for characterization,journey films let you feel the character in your heart.

TYFS strikes the right balance between dialog that is not too cinematic and something that you might get to hear in everyday life.Eckhart delivers a casual portrayal which if overdone could have killed the film – Therein lies Reitman’s strength, to draw that subtlety from his actors.

As a satire on how screwed up life can get,TYFS is a hands down winner. Eckhart gets thrown out of his job for blurting his trade secrets to a journalist he’s sleeping with (played by Katie Holmes). She obviously rips him apart in her piece. When his boss offers him back his job, he turns it down and decides to lobby for another voiceless organization – This time the ‘Cell phone usage has nothing to do with Brain Cancer’ Association!

White is the color of clouds in Kashmir

I have never imagined myself to be a nature person.Mountains,rivers,trees..they’re the same all over. Big deal. I can watch them on Nat Geo.Or watch Raavan. But man made architecture..now THAT bears testament to a great man’s love for mortar, bricks and stone. What could be more fascinating than that? Expectedly, my dream destinations have always included Greece,Italy,Peru and so on.. Leh was NEVER on the list.But then they decided to hold a certain music confluence there and put up some fab pictures on their site which promisingly looked like the Woodstock of India. Now I definitely don’t want to miss that. And crib for life. So Leh it was!


As the plane descended into the runway of Srinagar airport (we took the Srinagar-Nimu-Leh route) I sat watching the clouds outside, with my mouth open. They looked like the DreamWorks logo, minus the kid sitting atop. They looked like a pristine white cauliflower, the kind you never see in markets, they looked like scoops of vanilla ice cream, with baby scoops sprouting out from all over. And if you looked hard enough you could almost see the asuras and devas come charging out with their hordes of buffalos and err….well,as they say,the evil ones are always easier to remember. If only I could open the windows and touch the delectable cotton candy. Quite simply put, it is a body, mind and soul consuming experience.I’m exaggerating but it was definitely quite awe inspiring. After a point it feels like the clouds are talking to you and they’re saying ‘Dude, quit staring. It’s indecent’.

And so the journey began.

Day 1

After landing in Srinagar and a quickie lunch with a group that was yet to get comfortable with itself, we proceeded to Sonmarg/Mulbek. Quite a bit of confusion within the group as to where we were headed. Add to it hurting ears and churning stomachs - city dwellers can be a finicky lot.

Pity that we couldn’t stay longer in this beautiful city. All I could take back as a memory was a shot of the Nishaad and Shalimar Bagh from outside.But with the curfew on and not a single soul on the roads, barring our jeeps, there wasn’t much else to do but drive on. Funnily,when you read about curfews and blasts in Srinagar,sitting in Madras sipping filter coffee,the picture is quite different. I for one,imagine the India map and kind of draw a mental line from Madras to Srinagar. I don’t know how it helps visualizing the stone throwing there but I do it anyway. When you actually DO get to Srinagar,and see that a curfew amounts to just shutting down all the shops(at least from a tourist’s POV), you’re like hey this isn’t so bad. Or maybe we just saw the brighter side of it. Now news on Kashmir is not the same as anything else. I watch it as intently as I would a Rafa-Fedex match.

Fast forward several hours of frantic and relaxed photo clicking sessions, alternately – frantic when the driver would get irritated and not stop, relaxed when he’d oblige our tantrums and let us out for a few minutes, when we’d capture the same scenery from different angles.

As a side note,this place is a photographer’s delight. That includes ‘I don’t care much for photography’ types like me. Imagine my surprise when I found out that I had actually clicked 400+ photos over the course of the trip!

Click away click away and then the sun has set. Time to put all those gadgets back into their cases and just soak in the journey. And before you know it, there it is..The ZOZILA PASS. One might have as well named it the Godzilla pass. In all that darkness it was one of the scariest drives ever. Constant talks about death and wills and what not. And our magnanimous driver makes an offhand remark – If you make it through this pass alive, the rest of the journey is a cakewalk. That was really comforting Meer!...And then all of a sudden - dead-end.

A truck has toppled over the pass, a few feet ahead. Excellent. There couldn’t have been more excitement around. So Meer says we can either wait for a crane to come and pick up the truck, which could FYI hold us up till the morning,or retreat. But the second option wasn’t really an option with so many vehicles lined up behind. So we get out of the jeep and peer into the valley. And the sweetheart that he is,Meer tells us more stories about how a certain captain and his family fell off the valley and got themselves a memorial built in one of the most unlikely places in the world. But I like the idea. A memorial,up in the Himalayas is kinda cool. As we keep chatting,we see God in sight – The ‘J&K pick up toppled trucks from passes and save tourists’ department’s very own crane. So he did his job and left, God I mean. And we did ours – getting the hell on with the drive.

All said and done,Meer had a damn good sense of humor and was quite well informed about the local goings on. We got a first hand account of the political situation in the valley, what the people really wanted, how Kashmir had the potential to become one of the most prosperous states in the country and how it constantly had its dreams crushed ‘cause of all the goddamn politicians. We listened in silence as we sensed the wistfulness in his voice. But the driver cum tourist guide that he was, he quickly switched topics and told us we were driving through a zone that was actually 15 kms from the LOC and that in times of war, vehicles couldn’t have their lights on, lest the enemy spot us. Wow. Awe inspiring moment no.2..To think that a short ride from here might actually get me to Pakistan.

Chugging along in silence, the group weary of the journey and the enviable list of 5 songs that kept playing repeatedly on the car stereo, we finally reached Drass.Now Drass is a...I’m tempted to say ‘quaint little town’ but there’s nothing quaint about it. It’s a town that’s about twice as large as the street I live in.And had exactly three hotels.Where we dined and regrettably..*sigh*..stayed the night. But it is about 65 km from Kargil,which was our scheduled destination and had we continued to drive on, we’d have reached Kargil at an ungodly hour. So Meer’s enlightened suggestion was to rest there for the night and proceed the next day. So rest we did.

The hotel turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The surprise was that 4 of us managed to squeeze into one room and spend the night without killing each other. Jokes apart, the pleasure that lies in doing mundane things in a foreign country/city is a pleasure unparalleled. I woke up to a fantabulous view outside. If only I could brush my teeth everyday with a couple of mountains in the background :)..To actually possess the knowledge that I am standing so close to a place where thousands of soldiers have died for the country,is humbling, and being humbled by humans is a rare occurrence.. Kargil too was never on my list of top 100 places to see before I die. But sometimes life hands you some chocolates that you didn’t even know existed in the box. And they are surprisingly delicious. Having lived a completely sheltered life in Chennai, this is the closest I’ll ever be to breathing the air of martyrdom. Standing on the balcony of the Drass hotel,at 1 AM, with the sound of the local mullah chanting prayers and clean air in your face, knowing that this town has done much for the nation, you never want this moment to end and you feel small that YOU haven’t done much and you feel a lot of other things that are difficult to pen down.

Day 2


The day dawns, breakfast and onto the Drass memorial. Drass is supposedly the second coldest inhabited place in the world but in all the midnight confusion and morning weariness I forgot to take a pic near the signboard that said that! Incredibly touristy, but when you look at that album 10 years from now, it does help jog those grey cells doesn’t it?

So on we marched to the memorial and found the army band practicing Scottish bagpipes.Very un-Indian methinks but a pretty sight for sure! The museum was quite mundane barring a couple of posters mocking Indian warfare.

As we left the memorial, we found a bunch of kids that looked like they were right out of an Iranian movie! The innocence in their eyes is something that I don’t see anymore in city bred children. You asked them their names and they shyly answered, took the chocolate you gave them and ran away.

Lunched at Kargil, called our folks since they hadn’t heard from us in almost 18 hours, and onward to Mulbek.

There is a 9 foot high Maitreya Buddha in Mulbek.This trip was getting to be a big eye opener to how close Buddhism is to Hinduism. It is one thing to mug it up while studying for history exams and another to be there and experience it.The principles, the similarity in idol construction - If I hadn’t taken a good look I might have as well thought it was a Vishnu idol.Apparently,the Maitreya Buddha is the next avatar of the Buddha, somewhat like Kalki that all the Hindus are waiting for(the religious ones).Gautama the Buddha is just another avatar,not the founder of Buddhism as popularly believed.

Enough of ‘Spot the differences between Buddhism and Hinduism’ and out with the cameras again.

The mountains are so unbelievably beautiful that I cannot seem to stop gasping in amazement.I don’t think any of us did – The feeling of being engulfed by the gigantic Himalayas all over. The English vocabulary does not have a word for that.

And surprisingly, there is sunlight till 8 PM.Strange but true.With energies running low and stomachs growling,Meer took us to a quiet restaurant in Khalsi.Another town with no loos :( …Meer would laugh at us everytime we’d ask him for this luxury,he’d say ‘Bhaiya yahan sab khule mein karte hain’...with a smirk.We should have been more prepared for this.The cold, we came prepared.Peeing in the open – HELL NO!

The restaurant had some simple but awesome tasting dishes to cheer us up,accompanied by interesting conversation with the server. Jammu is the winter capital and Srinagar the Summer capital of the state,he said.The Indian government seems to have picked up a thing or two from Mohammed Bin Tughlaq.

Dinner done,we proceeded to the Nimu camp and reached by 11:45 PM.Realized we’d missed some free food but what the hell,we had the pleasure of his conversation :)..The most memorable moments of the journey were proving to be the conversations, time and again.(Second only to the mountains!)

There was a gorgeous bonfire lit up right next to the Indus river.Yes,the INDUS river!..Never had I imagined that one day I’d sit by the Indus and gaze it at by a bonfire light.But here I am,living a piece of history.

Day 3

Lazy morning and lip smacking masala omelettes. New friendships made over several mugs of coffee.Later on I realized this was probably the only vacation day in the entire itinerary stuffed trip.Day 3 was a slacker of a day – reached Leh by 3 ish,played with Angmo,the host’s adorable 2 yr old, lunched and napped a bit before we had to be up and ready to do more touristy stuff,aka visit the Shanti Stupa.

The monks inside were gonging away, oblivious to tourists flitting in and out.
Took pictures of colored frescoes, chipped frescoes,pics of the group,and pics of the Buddha in all his golden glory.Ended the visit with some much needed masala chai at the corner of the Stupa.Ran into an American couple who had been to Leh 20 yrs back and was astounded by how much it had developed over the years. These guys had been to Tiruvannamalai too! Wow. California to Tiruvannamalai.I wondered if I’d ever visit an obscure church in an Albanian town.

The evening was spent with the girls bonding over bags, Dylan T shirts, hats and head bands that would never be worn again. And lots of gossip of course. I have no idea what the men did. Today was also the day where some of the girls got lost and in typical male fashion went too far away from familiar territory before they realized they were lost. A quick call to Stanzin (our local guide) took us back to the comforts of our cottage.

Today was ALSO the day when we were supposed to be the most envied people known to friends and family.We were to watch the FIFA finals in Leh, something that I was pretty sure was a one in a 20 million chance. Weirdly enough, it was not as exciting as expected. It was freezing cold up there, I didn’t even want to know the temperature, there was NO FOOD and we had to shove down some Maggi as compensation. The Maggi was interesting though. They had put some green leafy thing in it which gave it a kinda exotic taste. I tried watching the first few minutes of the match,then realized I didn’t have my woolen gloves with me. Run to room. Fetch. Few minutes later I started coughing, realized I didn’t have mufflers to cover my ears. Run back to room.Fetch.The experience of battling the cold and having to constantly protect oneself, add to it the dogged tiredness, with every cell in my body crying out loud for sleep - the next time I ran to the room,I didn’t come back. The match can wait.


Day 4

Today’s schedule was to visit Nubra valley,via Khardung-la pass. This pass is at a height of 18,000 feet and is the highest motorable road in the world. On one hand, I was thrilled to see my first snow, but on the other I was quite disappointed with what it actually felt like.As silly as it may sound, I have always had a romantic notion of snow – Fed on Archie comics and hundreds of Hollywood movies,I thought it would be soft and feathery and taste like icecream..But when it actually fell on me and I held a chunk in my hand,it felt like the stuff back home in my freezer. Hmmmmph!

Reached Nubra valley around 2 ish,lunched, lazed around a bit and head out to a local archery competition happening right across the street.

Everyone got out their glitzy DSLRs to click away at the kids and the myriad of colors on the scarves that the women wore. Wish I could have tasted a bit of that Ladakhi Beer called Chang.The women were unabashedly passing glasses around.If gender equality is an unassuming affair anywhere in India, it is at a height of 12,000 feet in Ladakh.

Over to the Sand Dunes. I didn’t really enjoy this part much, though it looked like that place from Dil Se where Tu hi Re was shot. We just sat around looking at the camels passively. The trip was kind of getting to us – too much driving around and too little rest. No Book reading with a cup of tea yet :(

Cut to Dhiksit monastery. A monastery yet to be unveiled to the public, to be inaugurated by the Dalai Lama himself soon. A monk there lectured us on the differences between the Sakyamuni Buddha,Gautama and Maitreya. Real pleasant people these monks.If it wasn't for their robes,I'd have mistaken them for local villagers.

Back to the hotel, more girly gossip flipping through pics taken so far, sleep.

Day 5

Woke up at 6:30, bathed breakfasted and head back to Leh.This time I came down with a SERIOUS fever. I think my central nervous system got attacked or something. It was like being in a trance. I could vaguely sense people around going about doing their stuff. When I got to Leh,I could barely walk and it was all I could do to get to the bed and fall flat on it. Over the next few hours prescriptions were sent over sms by my doc uncle, medicines were bought by friends at the market and food got delivered to my room. Never have I missed my mom and grandmom more :(..They would tuck me in on occasions like these,spoonfeed me some hot mashed rasam saadam.Just the sensation of that mashed rice going down my throat would work much better than all the aspirins in the world.

But its amazing what a night’s sleep can do,despite the difficulty in breathing one faces in Leh.Girish and Krupa,thank you guys so much for taking care of me..:) I thought I’d die that night with all the body ache.

Day 6

With the trip entering its last phase,the majority of the group set out for Pyangong lake. This lake is supposed to be one of the highlights of Leh,and has recently had its 15 minutes of fame after ‘3 idiots’ was shot there. The otherwise unknown water body changes colors they say – Blue hues at dawn, Emerald green at dusk and so on – A photographer’s paradise. But some of us had had enough of this vacation which was starting to become a regimen of sorts and wanted to just bum around. So while ‘they’ ambitiously woke up at 5:30 to visit Pyangong, the rest of us had a late lunch by 2:30 and set out for the Leh Palace afterwards. The place felt like Harappa and Mohenjo Daro(from what I’ve seen in the NCERT history textbooks). Mostly mud ruins, hardly any elaborate artifacts.The Ladakhi kings were minimalists I guess.

After much trudging, we reached the top of the palace which had a so called café there. Chitchatted with a couple of men from Jaipur who had been on a road trip for the past 20 days - no plan as such,just stop for the night in whichever town/village they chanced to reach within decent hours. I need to do a trip of this kind soon. After downing some seabuck thorn tea(whatever that was) and a local biscuit we head back to our cottage.

That night everyone found some time to sit around a table and have some rum and coke. What transpires when a bunch of tourists get drunk is best kept to themselves :D


Day 7

Today was the last day of the trip..thanks to the confluence getting canceled,much to our disappointment.Unless you want to explore every nook and cranny of the town there really isn’t much to do here after a week’s stay.

Some folks set out to do rafting while the rest of us visited the Thikseh monastery and Stok palace. The drive to the monastery was peppered with structures that looked like little stupas. Well,isn’t everything a stupa here? You may ask..The answer is..’I guess’.. :).The climb to Thikseh was exhausting as hell. After an hour or so we reached the top, the journey intercepted by sightings of child monks.

All through the trip I have been wondering why these stupas/monasteries say we shouldn’t take pictures of the statues. This one explained why.Apparently it is because the gold plating can get damaged in the presence of bright light.

The Stok Palace again didn’t have much to offer.But I learnt quite a bit about the Ladakhi royalty.Everyone is a Namgyal in this town.Let me see if I can list all their names..The king is called Jigmed Namgyal..and the Queen mother..err..well..umm..so much for my memory.

I bought a colorful ‘trunga’,a Buddhist charm sort of thing to ward off evil spirits,but it still sits in my drawer – I bet its warding off quite a few insects in my cupboard.

There were these scary looking Tibetan women who’d spring on you from every corner and it almost felt like I was in one of those Ripley’s believe it or not joints in amusement parks. But I was thrilled to find an ‘Avalokiteswara’ idol in the museum.Familiarity does excite you in strange ways.

A late lunch at Sunbeam cafe.If the Kashmir government would appreciate some feedback,they ought to improve the quality of food in Leh.Most cafes are exorbitantly priced without offering commensurate ambience or food. After shoving down a mediocre pasta, we head back to the market. After a week in the town we were yet to buy souvenirs.

Now I cannot finish this post without talking about the Tee shirt stitchers of Leh.They stitch and stitch like they’re on some mission. Like they had a spot waiting for them in heaven if they stitched till they dropped dead, lifting their heads up every few minutes to answer the same old questions that tourists ask. ‘Bhaiya, yeh,kitna ka hai?’..He mumbles an answer and goes back to his chore. “150 ke liye milega? “..He told me to go buy it in whichever shop sold it at that rate. Slap in the face(for moi).. But such is the life of a Leh tailor. And pretty much every other local. Come as you are. Take it or leave it. No carpe diem here. Blame it on the mountains, blame it on Buddhism. People here are content with little.

So I bought a Tee that said ‘Hard Yak café’ and another that said ‘This is how I got Leh-ed’. :D . Back to the cottage, more rum and coke, settled accounts with the guide and its time to bid adieu to the glorious mountain land that is Leh.

Strangely enough, I didn’t feel too sad leaving this place. Maybe because the geography here was so overwhelming that the human element couldn’t be experienced. Maybe it was the sickness, maybe its all for the best, though I hate that phrase. So escapist.

Let me try again – What If you came across someone who looked so perfect that you were too much in awe to try to get to know their flaws? What if you kept examining them like they were an inimitable work of art? What if all your consciousness was consumed by just looking at how perfect they were?That is exactly what Ladakh does to you. Go visit it if you're a connoisseur of beauty at its purest!

Of undiagnosed bugs and uncountable hours to kill

"A 1000 euros??..Is it that good?"..Sigh..it was almost as if he didn't understand the pulse of the Indian nuts who'd go to any extent to watch Shah Rukh blaze the screen on the 1st day. For the uninitiated,1000 euros is how much it cost to watch My Name is Khan at the Berlin Film festival. (Happy to watch it for 125 rupees at Satyam,merci beau coup)

Don't for a second think that I DON'T belong to the India nutspora who'd do anything to watch SRK or Rajnikanth or the rest of them prance onscreen.I WOULD.I would even pay 500 bucks for a ticket.Its just that I've been sentenced to a week of bedrest,thanks to a dazzling array of possible viral infections,ranging from dengue to some mononucleosis (or mono nuclear cyst?)..The results of the tests will be out soon for all those curious souls dying to know.So I decided to write about some wonderful movies I watched over the week.

Before Sunrise to the recently concluded Scarface.The aptly titled sequel Before Sunset,Julie & Julia and Chaubey's neo-noir Ishqiya to spruce up the middle order.The rise and fall of the sun might need an exclusive post I'm thinking but what the heck,I'll try to fit in a short ode here.

Before sunrise - this Richard Linklater indie took my breath away. When I finished watching it,my first reaction was,Jesus F Christ! This film's 15 yrs old? And I'm watching it only now???..What a waste of 5 odd years..Very rarely does a film come SO close to your philosophy that you wonder if the filmmaker and you weren't separated at birth.Or were twins in the previous one.Provided he believed in reincarnation too. Rambling apart,I wikied Linklater and the man is all about agenda-less living.Live one day at a time.And that's what the film's all about.American Boy meets french girl on train,they get off at Vienna and walk around all day.No no..I have given NOTHING away.This is not the kind of film where you need to focus on plot,oh what did character X say in scene 22 bla bla.It is all about the flow.You need to be a bit of a dreamer too, to enjoy the film. Understand that life is fleeting and all you have with you is the beauty of now.If you don't believe in that,you can stop reading right now.

Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy take you through a journey that you wished never ended.You almost want to touch the screen and say 'Don't stop talking don't stop talking!"And when its finally over,you wanna play it all over again.Linklater comes to the rescue of his fans by creating the much needed sequel.

Before Sunset is endearing in the fact that it takes off from a non-fairy tale ending of the prequel. Boy and girl DO NOT reunite.(Thank god some filmmakers regard the feelings of normal folks who have to deal with reality day after day).Boy is married (presumably happily) with a kid and girl is in a 'hanging in there' relationship with someone.And while more than three quarters of the film is taken up with how they meet and warm up to each other after so many years,the clincher of a climax is all about why relationships are doomed if they have to exist forever.Delpy says 'I LIKE being alone,being alone all by yourself is better than sitting with your lover and STILL being alone." Perfecto.I would like to meet Mr.Linklater someday.

One more gem from Delpy's mouth: "The notion that people need to have someone by their side to be COMPLETE,is absurd..almost evil." You score again,Delpy. Shades of the romantic idiot is seen in Hawke,when he says 'No no..you can't think that way'..I wanted her to slap him right there and say 'WHY NOT YOU ASSHOLE?'..I have been jaded enough and have every friggin' right to think that.Its the FRUIT of my jadedness and I have EARNED it.You dare not take that away from me'..But no,that would not have been very French I guess. And I know how important it is to be in character throughout the film. (Though I wonder why..We don't stay in character throughout our lives,why should it be expected of characters onscreen??).The film ends with a lovely serenading session AND without a resolution..much like life.Well done,Linklater!

Over to Julie and Julia : What to write of an actress who has proved herself many times over,so much that no award will ever measure up to her acting prowess?.She makes my jaw drop every time and outdoes herself in this biopic,well imitating the idiosyncrasies of the jolly,lovable ol' lady who supposedly taught America to cook. Being a staunch vegetarian did not deter my taste buds from swelling up at the sight of Amy Adams cooking up a delicious Beef bourguignon! Sigh..sometimes I wish I weren't so considerate to animals..non-vegetarians seem to have so much fun. Cooking IS therapeutic though..I tried my hand at making breakfast for a few days and was pleasantly surprised..not only did it taste alright,the day started off with an 'Oh well,I did something productive today' note..which excuses your lack of productivity for the rest of the day :D

Next up is Ishqiya : Much has been spoken about this Indian Tarantino but what tipped the scales in favor of watching it despite the sickness was the beautifully picturized 'Dil to baccha hai ji' song.The song itself is quite haunting,an Indian tune set to middle eastern arrangements..More incentives to watch the film : Vidya Balan looks ravishing,the contrasting nature of the 2 love stories - Naseeruddin Shah's unspoken yearning love as opposed to Warsi's more direct,brazen young love.The older man's love definitely wins the women over.At times it feels like an Indian western meets neo-noir but for most part its sheer poetry.The lyrical grandeur just washes you away.Warsi acquits himself well,and more than makes up for all the non-meaty roles of the past.Again,a film that carries you with it.Laudable debut,Chaubey!


Finally,Scarface: What can I possibly say about a cult film,made the year I was born? :) .. Its probably best to shut up.. but I WON'T.Al Pacino was excellent as usual,he just does these angry young man/middle aged man roles SO well.I wish he'd done more variety though.Interestingly,all the roles he turned down could have offered him that variety..Kramer vs Kramer,Pretty woman,Born on the 4th of July.But its just as well he turned them down. Can't imagine Kramer being played by anyone but Hoffman.

Okay..so its definitely dengue..hip hip hurray!..I've managed to contract something new for a change and am quite smug about it :| Sickness is good for SOMETHING I say! Bring it on!

"Aisi ulji nazar unse hatt ti nahi..Daant se reshmi dor katt ti nahi..Umar kab ki baras ke sufaid ho gayi..Kaari badari jawani ki chatt ti nahi..Walla ye dhadkan, bhadne lagi hai Chehre ki rangat udne lagi hai.." ...ra ra ra ra.. :)

Contd...

The best ideas come in the loo they say,in my case the bike too. So much so that I often don't know how I land up at my destination.Now when I say bike,I mean a battered old Activa(Lest you imagine a grand Thunderbird,a la Lara Croft).

Before I wander off again,I have for a long time been wanting to pen my thoughts as they appear.So I let it wander for five minutes(or ten or twenty,can't tell) until I feel that a comprehensible amount of clarity has transpired.Then I realize I can't remember a single thing in that entire thread of wandering.The wandering felt good while it lasted but its almost as if those doctors from Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind erased a part of my brain.You would think clarity in confusion is a sparse commodity and one would remember it.Nope.Nothing.Zilch.Nada.

Call it the privilege of the creative,but absentmindedness has its bright side.The nothingness leads to a new seed, the refusal to jot it down leads to more nothingness..you know the routine.As the haziness continues, I begin to wonder if my brain is made up of something greyer than grey matter.Maybe dingy winter evening. Maybe I should call up Nerolac.Maybe I should stop making quadriplegic jokes and get on with it. But while we're on the subject of grey, when grey gets greyer does it move towards white or black? Any information will be appreciated.

I must warn you though,that I'm a big optimist.Contrary to the belief of many ,I am anything but a pessimist,or at least optimistic about becoming an optimist :) I trust there will be many more disconnected trails in the future, so wildly unique that I'm sure I'll remember it.Many months, many showers and many drafts later..Here I am.Blogging with a list of points in front of me. *Sigh*.

Then I look at my earlier posts and wonder what crossed my mind when I wrote them.Did I write them 'cause I wanted to or is this what I want to project? Don't know.I sure as hell don't see myself connecting so much with those experiences now.I can recognize a shade of me in those posts but that isn't me in totality. This vague person who is trying to piece the puzzle together is more me.Or has the protagonist changed so much that she can't recognize herself anymore? 'Don't know'..That seems to be my recurring mantra of late.And to think that all the decisions I've made so far stem from this never ending stream of don't knows.

Somewhere in all the fog,I hear my mom holler 'Etthana idli di?' and I'm jolted back to reality.Tomorrow will be a new day and a fresh round of idlis and don't knows.

Song for the day :

" Simone..
You're getting older,
Your journey's been
Etched on your skin

Simone..
Wish I had known that,
What seemed so strong
Has been and gone

I would call you up every Saturday night,
And we both stayed out 'til the morning light
And we sang, "Here we go again"
And though time goes by
I will always be
In a club with you
In 1973..
Singing "Here we go again"

Simone..
Wish I was sober,
So I could see clearly now
The rain has gone.

Simone..
I guess it's over,
My memory plays our tune..
The same old song.

And though time goes by,
I will always be
In a club with you
In 1973.


(After all this you didn't really expect the song to be connected to the post,did you?!!)