Sight seeing around Dharamshala - Part 2

 Late afternoon we reached Bhagsu-Nag, which had the Bhagsu-Nag temple and a waterfall. Our driver kindly narrated the story of King Bhagsu who had unwittingly drank water from the lake meant for Nag Devata, earning its wrath. In the fight that ensued the king was defeated and then pardoned. The temple was created to commemorate the event, although I have a feeling some part of the story is missing here. Shiva should have figured in at some point but the tablet I had taken for motion sickness was kicking in, I was too docile to ask anything.

The modest looking temple had many steps to climb and there were quite a few people so we went to the falls which needed a wee bit of walking. Dad was too tired so he sat down at the base of the temple while I urged my mom to give it a try and join us as far as she could. She came with us till mid way from where we could see the water falling from tall recesses way above and a lot of people thronging around at its foot. There was a path off the main one, which we followed to reach the lower rocks around which the stream from the waterfall snaked through, forming little pools of water. It was so clear that you could see the rocks gleaming beneath in the sun. 

Everybody abandoned their footwear and hopped on different boulders to wet their feet. Yours truly was too lazy to part with her hiking boots and hence walked around boulders, clicking pictures to her heart's fill. When it was time to leave, I climbed back the same way I came and reached the spot my brother had stowed away his shoes. As I climbed from there I lost grip on a small nook I had placed my feet on and went sliding down the sloping rock, head first but slowly as I was told later. I knew I was falling but I don't remember trying to do anything, I don't think I screamed. I had closed my eyes and at one point it felt like I stopped, I tried to hold on to something but then I couldn't and I slid again and in time I hit water and I thought I was floating, the current carrying me downwards. I remember thinking this is how it ends. In my head I had images of me just getting washed away in the falls, like they show in movies. Then I heard my brother asking me to stand up and I realized I was being too dramatic in very shallow waters, I just had to stand. 

Luckily I was not hurt despite the rocks and boulders. My brother had cuts on his back and ankle in trying to save me, he had turned me around so I didn't fall head first. I could feel pain at my hips, right knee, my arms but nothing too major. But for someone who didn't want to wet her feet, I was soaking in water, head to toe. The hilarity of the situation or the nerves from the adrenaline rush kept me giggling all the way back into the Bhagsu Nag market where I bought my "pahadi" kurta, a loose fitting jeans and "Pink" crocs - with hearts on the sides of the sole, in white and all shades of pink and a green shrek face at the front. 

The Bhagsu Nag temple has a small "pushkarni" and a larger swimming pool. I hoped that meant there might be a changing room, which wasn't to be. So I headed to a lodge and requested for a room to change. The manager was kind enough to oblige. My brother found a place near the swimming pool to change. And our little mis-adventure meant we could not see anything more in McCleod Ganj today. 

We stopped at a viewpoint on the way and bumped into a couple of ex-army men, one of whom hails from a place near Mysore. He was narrating his story while we drank our tea and ate the local doughnuts enjoying the view of Dauladhar peaks. 

Leaving you with this lovely poem by Billy Collins called 'The art of drowning'. How perfect.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=38176

Sight-seeing around Dharamshala - Part 1

 2 April, 2022

My parents, brother, sis-in-law and I are at the most picturesque homestays near Dharamshala. Snow can be seen on the towering mountains behind the near by rows of hills. I could just stay at home curled up with one of the many books stocked up in this house, while the tender april sun dances on my face. I have a whole week to do that.

We finished our sumptuous breakfast of aloo puri and headed for a sight-seeing trip around Macleod-ganj. We piled onto a 5 seater sedan to ferry 6 people across the twisting roads of these hills. Our first stop - Norbulingka Institute of Tibetan Culture Studies came about before we could complain about being crammed into this vehicle. Once you step into this institute, the calming sounds of flowing water take over, even the bulbul needs to raise its pitch to be heard in these parts. The landscaping artist has done a marvelous job utilizing the space so well. Our guide - Lhamo - joined us shortly and took us around to a number of workshops and studios that were open that day. It is a place where tibetan art and culture is taught to willing students and they eventually find employment within the institute or elsewhere. 

As we ignorantly walked into each of these spaces, Lhamo would explain what is being taught within and the students would show us what they are working without any outward display of annoyance at our intrusion. The buddhist imagery which we are not faniliar with, we tried to associate to their equivalent ones in our legends. The painting workshop piqued my interest. The master had put up a sketch on a board at the center - it was of a diety called "Tara" sitting on a wide lotus, with curls and twists all drawn to proportion. And some students were sketching it and painting it. There were two groups of classes, one which used acrylic colors and created an embossing effect for some and the other group which did the "Thangka" painting using naturally made dyes and pure gold. My mom was very curious and walked up to each student finding out what each was drawing and her exclamations filled the room. 

In flitting from one workshop to another we had reached two storey levels higher and stepping out of this last workshop, we were treated to an amazing view of Dauladhar range right behind where we stood. After admiring this serene view we headed to the Buddha temple where the main statue was made of a head of gold and gold plated bronze body. I tried to sit idle in its quiet quarters.

Next we headed to Naddi viewpoint which is where Triund trek starts. We were rewarded with magnificent views of the might Dauladhar range up and close. These are peaks rising over 4000m which reared their snow capped heads in between swift moving clouds. With my brother's new phone which could erase any ugly power grid lines, we have some really good photos to take back home. I wish we reached here by evening and not high noon. The heat haze over exposed all the photos on my camera. 

We headed to munch some momos - surprisingly even my parents who are generally very reserved about what goes in their mouths, gulped a few of these yummy steamed momos. After this we headed to a cafe near our next tourist stop, which served some disappointing food. The tourist spot deserves a post of its own. Watch out for the next one.

Back here

Mar 21, 2022

I took a long walk to Lalbagh yesterday. But people run 21kms three times a week. (This I know from the latest challenge I've taken up!) 

Google Maps indicated it was exactly 8KM from where I stayed, which fit the precise conditions of the Bikat Challenge. I wore my boots and set out with a bottle of water. Google led me through random side streets whose residents were waking up, perhaps to my clip-clop stride. Some early risers looked up mid way through brushing their teeth, as I marched on a mission. The narrowing mud road, the odd stares from the guys cleaning their trucks, brought home the warnings on the google maps on the unreliability of the route. I turned around, undeterred, re-traced my steps all the way and took a less crazy road (for the time being).

The less crazy roads are the ones which are the main street - for people and dogs and garbage. With my new found courage around dogs, and a soft corner for people, I braced myself for the assault on my olfactory senses. I veered on a wider road without consulting the maps and added another kilometer to my itinerary. I was joined by some herding cattle along the narrow turns for a bit of a thrill and soon I joined early morning traffic on the high profile "Ring-road".

The next good stretch was next to BMS women's college, barring the brief crossing on bull temple road and soon enough I passed Bugle Rock and eased into lanes lined with well aged trees and their drooping boughs laden with spring flowers. I found myself walking along the surprisingly calm junction around Krishna Rao park and the street I had never walked on that led nicely to Lalbagh. Even with enough people around, it didn't seem too crowded and I ventured in, at the cost of 30 bucks and sunk into the first empty bench facing the lake.

10 KMs said my app, sweat soaked, sore feet, hair tied uncaringly into a bun, was worth it. The place was calm and cloudy, my mind was more the latter than former. I let myself feel the gravity of all of this. Eventually, I ended up meditating. 

So here are a few pics from the walk.

(P.S. I've been on so many walks in UK. I never felt like I had to put up a post anywhere. I could casually share things with people I know would appreciate it. Alas.)

Mirth

I try to discern some conversations
Rather, the residue of such.
Those subtle misplaced vibes -
A glance exchanged or A whisper,
A gasp held back and The sudden hush.
The very, many manipulations at play.
Indirect cues that tug at my mind,
Taunting me to lay their schemes bare.

Oh! That temptation to laugh
For not having better than to gossip about me.

Insignificant processes

If
A thousand thoughts
Racing, out pacing
The sinewy arms of comprehension
Sprint faster than a syllable,
How would you express all you felt ?

And if
Instead, they stood still,
Ran deep
And in silence,
Still, beyond detection,
How would you even feel such a thing?

Mind you,
Mess is the hidden order.

Chadar Trek

What if your toes are dripping wet? Always?
And all your five layers of clothing are cold and moist
If your backpack is full of bricks
And the zips on your bag are sharp thorns waiting to sting you at their touch
If it takes 3 attempts to tuck in and close your sleeping bag
And after you are all settled to rest, you realize you need to pee and have to go through all the above all over again!

That's what no one tells you about trekking in peak winter in Ladakh.
But that is the only thing you need to prepare for. The cold. Accept that it will beat you, leave you irritated, famished and hopeless. Accept and pray for it to get colder even, for that is the only thing that ensures that there is a proper sheet of ice for you to walk on. That is all you need to complete the Chadar trek.The will to accept and yet push yourself further. No one dies of moistness. No one dies of tiredness. Unless you let it diminish your will.

What came in handy:
Down jacket - pick one with a hood and as many pockets as possible
Fleece pant
Good woolen socks
Gum boots
Rain pants
Thermals
Gloves - inner and outer layers. Buy waterproof one with loops in it so it can stay on your hand even when u dont want to use it.
Balaclava
Woolen cap - choose one with ear flaps
Thermos flask to keep your water warm
Vaseline and sunscreen

What was not needed:
Sun hat - you can manage with wollen cap/bandana
Spare inners - you'll never want to change unless you fall into the water and are wet.
Liners - you won't have time or patience to slip into that
Trekking pole - a nuisance when walking on solid ice. doesn't help much on rocky paths either.
Trekking shoes - you won't have patience to tie lace. pick something that is easy to slip into and has a decent grip.

Just have a spare for all the clothing needed. 
Cut all your nails before you leave for the trek
Do enough squats to be able to sit on two rocks long enough to shit.
Carry enough bandages, tissues and sanitizers
Carry an antiseptic cream/anti bacterial powder
Carry some turmeric, pepper powder and drink with hot water/black tea to avoid catching cold.
And walk. Listen to the crumbling ice under your feet, feel the rhythm of your stride, feel the snow fall on your face, smile some and walk.

The Aryavarta Chronicles

Aryavarta Chronicles. Just finished reading this trilogy. What do you expect when you know much of most of the story? Well, the first 2 books held nothing remarkable,but this last one just left me unsettled. Like I wished there were more pages, like this story should not have ended, at least not with me feeling like this, bereft.

I had started reading this in the hopes of getting a different perspective on Draupadi, one of the few intriguing female characters you could ever find in an Indian context. But in the end I seemed to have sympathized with characters I never gave a second thought about before. Like Abhimanyu, Uttara, Balabhadra. I think I am mourning more than any for the death of Krishna. For he had come to represent hope and smiles, someone who could turn the tide in my favorite character's favor, I think I feel most for the fact that Draupadi will no longer get to see him and is doomed to her life here on earth.

The Epilogue though was most fitting.

I think I enjoyed the journey this series provided. More towards the end even with, or perhaps just for, the lingering wishful feeling it left me with.