Latest Love......

Riding the wave

Valley of flowers

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Autumn

Mustard field

Pranavam -Wayanad

ती फुलराणी

खूब लडी मर्दानी वो तो झासीवाली रानी थी

The Jungle- Dahanu

Chmolumgma, I am grateful to you!

Water

fisherman's cove

Upakram Diwali 2011

उपक्रम दिवाळी अंक २०११

Dahanu Diary

I cannot forget those hundred tribal children lined up in rows directed by a single music teacher singing patriotic songs that mesmerized people during the annual convention Marathi Vidnyan Parishad at Bordi (19-21 December, 2010). I was deeply moved by the song which was perfect in tune and rhythm.  It was hard to believe that many of their parents were illiterate and they were from extremely poor families. I always had a desire that my i-Pod generation students should meet these children and learn from them. More importantly, as an IB teacher I wanted to experience CAS beyond the conventional setting in school. I was excited to go back to Dahanu for the second time in a year and this time with TISB students.

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We started IAYP trip at an unearthly hour of 2:30 AM of 30^th September, 2011 from school. It was large group of 32 students with equal number of girls and boys.  We reached Dahanu the same afternoon at around 2 pm. After lunch and a brief tour of        Mr. Suryahas Chaudhari’s farm “ The Jungle” we went to Bordi beach to study mangroves. The beach was very clean. As it was a low tide, we walked to the mangroves and saw a number of crabs and other marine species. Mr. Surya is a living encyclopedia of nature and he has a great passion towards preservation of environment. A keen believer of organic farming, animal lover and herpetologist – he was giving information about medicinal plants, snakes, survival techniques in a very interesting manner. Our students listened to him with great interest. In fact, they improvised a superb skit on one of his talks on snake awareness during the camp fire.

Knot theory.....

 The Jungle is Mr. Surya’s mini rain forest. The boys stayed in a tree house and girls stayed in his guest house overlooking the forest. The Jungle has all the tropical fruit orchards and medicinal plants. He has a lovely amphitheatre amidst mango trees, obstacle race challenges, a rifle shooting range, archery training facility etc. He takes a great care to assure safety of children while doing all the activities and his facility is properly fenced. He had superb security in the night and most importantly he was personally engaged in all the activities.

Fine balance!

On the second day, Mrs. Banoo Ragaby took a session on knots and how to use the wood and vines to create shelter. It followed by “Jungle survival with stone age instruments competition”. Students came up with excellent working designs for gadgets. They used the techniques shown by Mrs. Banoo. On the same evening they had a cooking competition where they managed to cook potatoes on fire using the gadgets and contraptions made by them. No utensils were provided. Also, we visited a paddy field next door and got an idea of how to cut the paddy crop. Students volunteered enthusiastically and extended a helping hand.

Next morning, went for a long walk to Asvali Dam. It was like a field trip of Botany and Ayurvedic pharmacy. At the end of the walk we reached a beautiful manmade lake. After resting there for a bit we walked to the Ashram Shala (residential school) where our Youth Rise students had painted a badminton court. The head teacher of the school said that they used the court very much. The net is torn and we will have to send one with the next batch. I spoke to grade 10 students who were mostly from neighboring villages. They were very shy in the beginning as they were not fluent in English. However, with some praise and general talk in Marathi and Hindi they came forward and explained their daily routine to Rosie and Claire in English. We played games like fugadi (holding hands and swirling), running catching each other. This gave those girls some confidence. In the end, with little coaxing a group of girls sang a melodious song in praise of God. Eshani liked the song and started humming it as we were returning. I wanted our students to learn something from there and it happened!

Asvali Dam

That afternoon we had the art workshop by Warli artist Mr. Santosh Dodka. We learnt the basic figures in Warli art and painted them on small earthen pots. Warli art looks simple however; it takes time to paint these tiny intricate patterns.  Even a non-artist like myself- got some confidence while painting the pots. IGCSE Art students did a fantastic job.

That night, we had the opportunity to meet a group of Warli folks who did the Tarpa dance. We were amazed to see the stamina of the Tarpa player. All of us danced with them until our clothes were soaked in sweat.

On two nights, we were lucky to get clear skies. We took out Mr. Surya’s telescope and showed the craters on the Moon to the students. I also managed to explain constellations and basic Astrophysics to a few curious ones.

Mr. Surya’s obstacle race and commando activities were a hit among students. The best timing for obstacle race was comparable among boys and girls. It had full participation from everyone. They all got to do rifle shooting, archery, sling shot etc.

All the meals were delicious as they had the local organic flavors. Every meal had both veg and non-veg dishes. Students loved the local Maharashtrian and Gujrati dishes. One evening they even did the barbeque chicken and corn. All of us loved the bread, rusk and other baked “eggless” goodies from Mr. Ragaby’s Agnee Bakery.

On the fourth day, we visited a few more Anganvadis(play schools) in the area. We distributed rubber balls and toiletries for personal hygiene to tribal children. Dahanu-Bordi-Kosbad is well known for the pioneering work done Padmashree Ms. Anutai Wagh and her Padmabhushan Tarabai Modak (known as India’s Montessori) in setting up schools for tribal children. In spite of that, we saw that the schools are rather primitive without the basic amenities like clean toilets, electricity.  The need for good schools is never ending. “Education for all” will take time to come into reality. I am glad that our students saw this in their growing age- even if a few of them can help out in some way in future; our mission will be fulfilled.

To summarize, all five days were filled with adventure, proximity with nature, creativity, learning about a new culture and survival. I am confident that the requirements of the IAYP Gold award were fulfilled. I really appreciate careful planning and implementation of the camp by Mr. and Mrs. Ragaby. They both were constantly on their toes along with Mr. Surya. I am grateful to Mr. Ragaby who involved me in the IAYP trip without really knowing about my desire to take TISB students to see the tribal children. Last but not the least, i am thankful to my dear husband-Vinay and son-Kabir who managed to survive without me! Kabir learnt to make his eggs and toast :-)

Every Car Has Her Day!

It was a Royal blue Nissan Sentra (with automatic transmission and power steering) which my husband had rented for my driving test. We had an old 1987 Toyota Tercel and he had taught me driving on that car for months before I went for the test. New York state driving license was difficult to obtain. You were actually supposed to know driving and parallel parking to get one. Here I was nervous behind the wheel of the shiny car and that examiner with an American accent watching my each move made my feet shake. I made severe blunders just while merging with the traffic. The car was rather smooth as compared our old stick shift whose steering needed extra muscle power. The examiner must have been appalled and he asked to return in few minutes. I was shocked and frustrated at my failure. I was really ashamed and felt that I could never drive.

Wiping my tears, i asked my husband to take the very next appointment. A week later, we went there with our old car. This time determined to keep trying till i passed. The same examiner was there and he gave me a tough look and sat next to me on the torn seat with a long face. I decided to ignore him and started the car. I just went on taking him wherever he asked.  During parallel parking, the small car perfectly fitted between two cars without much hassle. The master was impressed this time and quietly signed of the form! In the end he said, “You should have brought this car last week. Why did you spend money on that Nissan?”

That little Tercel was our dear friend till we finished our studies in Buffalo,NY. No matter how much it snowed, we would clean her and take her out to the university. She made numerous trips to the Niagara falls with guests. Even after our month long vacation in India when we returned in 6 ft snow, she started without a single fuss! When my husband got a job and we went to Austin she helped us in initial days. Next we got a 1993 Honda Civic! It was an automatic transmission, white sedan that really made us proud.

I still remember junking that old Tercel in a junk yard for $35. I really felt sorry but we could not afford to keep her. Three years earlier, my husband had come to receive me at the Buffalo airport. I had traveled for 30 hours to meet him and I felt really warm and cozy sitting next to him in that car. Later on when i got a job we needed another car. This time we got a 1995 Toyota Corolla. It was bigger than the Civic and Tercel. I was never very comfortable driving that. When our little boy started going to day care, he had a choice of two cars! He would go in Corolla with Dad and return in Civic with mom. In a few months, we sold both the cars and returned to India to settle in Bangalore. Scared of driving on Bangalore streets, for almost a year we were dependent on buses and autos. My husband had a bicycle and got a great reputation as a fitness freak and environmentalist! My little boy would sit in his stroller like a king and i would walk around buying stuff. We were proud of these two unmotorized vehicles for a year!

Next came the peacock green 1999 Maruti Zen! Driving in Bangalore was tough. However, I soon gathered enough courage to drive it. Then there was no looking back. Local drivers would give me looks and i learnt to ignore because i knew i was driving by the rules. For many years, I drove it to my school that was 20 km away with my little boy sitting behind. The main road was terrible so we would go through a village road full of mud and potholes to save a few minutes. Sometimes, huge trucks would come from front and I would let them pass while waiting on the side. Once, a tractor dashed her on the side and the windshield was shattered but three of us (myself, my son and a close friend) were spared. I took her to the nearest service center and got it fixed without even showing it to anyone at home! She has been my sole companion on the long drives to work and back. I have shared my problems at work place with her. She was was great stress buster because i would engross myself in driving her and would forget the petty issues at work place. I would reach home about 20 min. before the bus and that would make me very happy. She was there when my little boy had to go for piano and karate lessons. I would sit and meditate outside the classes. Or sometimes, i would just sit inside listening to an evening Raga.

In last two months, after more than decade of dedicated service…only twice, she gave up on the road. We had to push her to get her started. Even then, we were not stranded. A few good men were enough to push her and she would start! However, we do not want to take chances. What if she gives up in traffic? 

How can we be so ungrateful to her that we decide to dump her for a new car?

My dear Zen, it is now time to say good bye. But you will always be with me even when you are sold….in the your new Avtar of Estillo. It is with you i really learnt the Art of Driving. I can never forget you. I am sure, they will fix you and you will find loving owners like us.

Behind every successful man there is a woman forgotten by history!

Behind every successful man there is a woman forgotten by history! These women are not forgotten because they are worthless in front of their husbands. They are ignored deliberately. No one even tries to find out about them. Yashodhara and Xanthippe were two such strong women- wives of enlightened men Buddha and Socrates! This blog is devoted to “Xanthippe and Yashodhara”. Although literature has very little about them, this is a humble attempt to peep into their minds.

Xanthippe was very young as compared to Socrates. She had three boys from him. Socrates was executed at the age of 70.  Xanthippe must have been in her early thirties at that time. References mention her as a shrew, ill-tempered woman so much so that Shakespeare wrote a comedy “Taming of the shrew” in which Katherina’s character seems to have resemblance with Xanthippe. Socrates remained poor philosopher all through his life and could not really do much for her and their kids. His disciples would sometimes offer her some help but Socrates himself must not have been of any help. Whenever, Crito, Plato or Phaedo visited her; they would have only noticed her pain, anger and bickering. All she must have wanted was good food for her children. Any mother would ask for the same.  Recently i watched the Marathi play- Soory Pahilela Manoos based on The Last Days of Socrates¹. Now, I really wonder whether Xanthippe had any hatred about Socrates. Crito tries his best to persuade Socrates to run away from Athens with his family. Crito is ready to sponsor for this but when he speaks to Xanthippe, she firmly tells him that Socrates will not accept this cowardly act. And she also adds that she would manage to live in Athens rather than going anywhere. There is a scene in the play when she visits Socrates just before his death. He sends her off abruptly and it seems as if he does not care for her. She must have been a very strong, independent woman to accept his death. The pictures do not show her crying when he drinks hemlock because she was the only one who had understood what Socrates wanted to tell the world about death. She knew in her heart that it was only his body that was dying and his soul was immortal. Even Socrates must have known that Xanthippe was very able to manage things after him. He was sharing his pearls of wisdom with the all the Athenians but he did not have to teach Xanthippe! She had absorbed the complete reality of life and death. She is not shown weeping anywhere.

Yashodhara was Siddhartha’s cousin². She was his father’s sister Queen Pamita’s daughter.  Before marriage Siddhartha had seen helping poor and sick children in a village. She was dressed in simple clothes and was engrossed in social work. He was astonished to see her cleaning and nursing poor kids. She had been doing this work for at least for two years before their wedding. They got married at the age of 16. As a queen, she would take the responsibility of arranging parties for Siddhartha’s friends. Very few who enjoyed music and food at those functions would learn about her compassion and generosity to the destitute. Siddhartha knew that she was his true companion and even though she would never express her knowledge of Philosophy, she had understood Siddhartha’s yearning for following the spiritual path. Even Siddhrtha’s mother*- Queen Gotami had a clear understanding of Yashodhara’s mind. They supported each other after Siddhartha’s departure. It is often portrayed that Siddhartha left the palace when everyone in the town was asleep. It is rather unlikely that she did not know of his plans. She had just delivered their baby boy Rahula. The truth is that Yashodhara knew what Siddhartha wanted and she did not want to stop him. She knew that she had to be with Rahula and she did not want the baby to feel sad. There was no point in waking up and trying to stop Siddhartha. Even King Shuddhodhana was very sad but Yashodhara did not weep or express her sorrow. It is her strength, wisdom and independence that allowed Siddhartha to follow his path. Later on, she even allowed her little boy Rahula to follow his father’s footsteps. No woman would have done such double sacrifice in her life! Queen Gotami was the first one to join Buddhist nunnery. She assured that Yashodhara joined it as well and they both accompanied each other wherever the nuns traveled. It is quite rare to see such a bond between a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law.

Historians should find out more about Yashodhara, Xanthippe and other great ladies. There is no doubt that there is a lot to learn from Buddha and Socrates in theory.

When it comes to life there is even more to learn from their wives!

    *Siddhartha’s biological mother Mahamaya died soon after his birth. The king Shuddhodhana married her sister Gotami.

1. Ref: The last days of Socrates by Plato, Hugh Trendennick
2. Ref: Old Path White Clouds by Thich Nhat Hanh This is a very detailed biography of Gautam Buddha which I cherish reading again and again.
3. Photo sources: en.wikipedia.org, Old Path White clouds              

Three evenings and Bahinaabai's poems

One busy evening at the street of Dadar...people buying vegetables, clothes, footwear, fruits and fast food before going home from work! A Young Ravindra and a Nikhil.....both aged 24 ..it is the age of getting an employment, the age of romancing, the age of dreaming and suddenly there is a deafening sound! Ravindra, Nikhil and so many others are no more! News channels will cover it for a few days and will find something new to increase their viewer-ship.What about the victims' mothers? They must be shattered and their families devastated.
Is this the price you pay for the employment that you get in the maximum city of Mumbai? About 70-80 years ago an illiterate, farmer woman from Jalgaon district - a Marathi poetess Bahinaabai had asked a very valid question....

मानसा मानसा कधी व्हशील मानूस

लोभासाठी झाला मानसाचा रे कानूस

hey man, when we will be become a HUMAN?Greed  has turned you into a beast.

Evolutionists may have labeled our species as Homo Sapiens but in reality is that true? When will the terrorism end and we will have humanity?

Another evening- in our upper middle class apartment complex. A group of young mothers walking around with their babies. Someone mentions about a lady-Anita(name changed) on the 8th floor whose husband died of heart attach in Saudi Arabia. I am unable to even remember her face as i am too busy in my own world. As those ladies decided to visit Anita...i also follow them. The house is full of trendy furniture and two small daughters are playing around with expensive toys from overseas. The house looks like that dry desert in the Gulf where he had gone. He had gone there to make a fortune but he is lost forever and so is her fortune. Friends shed a few tears, someone cuddles the girls. Even the elder girl  doesn't understand the gravity of the situation. All these educated, well settled ladies are shaken up thinking that this could have happened to me! Although the society has changed a lot in the past 100 years, facing loss of a beloved husband and bread winner so early is extremely tough. Bahinaabai went through a similar tragedy at an early age but she really must have been a very strong person. She never blamed her destiny.

In fact Bahinaabai never trusted any astrologer. In this 21st century, we have many experts in astrology, tarot card  readers, healers and baba. She did not want anybody's help or guidance on what to do. She knew that they are all fake. She accepted the challenges and struggles of life as they came.

बापा नको मारु थापा

असो खर्‍या, असो खोट्या

नहि नशिब नशिब

तय हाताच्या रेघोट्या

नको नको रे जोतिष्या

नको हात माझा पाहू

माझं दैव मला कये

माझ्या दारी नको येऊ

Hey Palmist Baba, don't tell me anything,
Whether true or false,
It is not my fate,
These are just lines on my palms,
Hey Palmist Baba don't,
Don't look at my palms,
I know my destiny,
Don't come to my door
Don't come to my door again!!

An evening about ten years back- I was driving from school to home with my 4 year old son. It used to be a very long, 21 km drive through a village and then busy streets. Those were tough days as i was juggling a new job and my little boy. I still remember that rainy evening when there was a lot of water on that village road. We were stuck on a small road in the village and as we were just waiting for traffic to clear up my son pointed small bushes full of weaver bird nests. There were about 40-50 nests hanging there. It was truly a magical colony. Having moved into a 2 BHK "ownership" flat recently, i was perfectly aware of what it takes to build a house (although i did not build it myself!) And i was having a sense of achievement about it! Here, the bird had done all the work of the builder, architect, mason, carpenter. As we were waiting for the road to clear up, i was constantly worried about reaching home, cooking, cleaning, feeding my son, preparing for the next days lessons and so on... we kept watching the birds for another ten minutes and cursing our fate. Again, i remembered Bahinaabai's verses.....

अरे खोप्यामधी खोपा

अरे खोप्यामधी खोपा

सुगरनीचा चांगला

देखा पिलासाठी तिनं

झोका झाडाले टांगला..

Look at the Weaver Bird's nest which is really the best, 

Look... for her baby she has hung a cradle on the tree.

पिलं निजले खोप्यात

जसा झूलता बंगला

तिचा पिलामधि जीव

जीव झाडाले टांगला..!

Baby sleeps in the nest which is like a hanging bungalow,

Her life is in the baby,

And her whole life is hangs on the tree.....( appreciate the pun on the word LIFE)

खोपा इनला इनला

जसा गिलक्याचा कोसा

पाखराची कारागिरी

जरा देख रे मानसा !

Look at the nest which is weaved like dried ridge gourd,

Hey man, just look at the workmanship of the birdie

तिची उलूशीच चोच,

तेच दात, तेच ओठ

तुले देले रे देवानं

दोन हात दहा बोटं ?

She has a little beak,

Which serves her as lips and teeth,

(Be thankful that) God has given you 

Two hands and ten fingers!

- बहीणाबाई चौधरी ( BahiNaa BaI Chaudhari)

I keep reciting the last stanza whenever, i am depressed or worked up. It gives me a lot of strength. Bahinaabai was amazing! Whole day she would work in the farm and she would see the reflection of the whole universe in the black soil. She did not go to a school but she could read the nature and destiny. She did not have a degree in Psychology but she understood the mysteries of the mind. If you can understand Bahinaabai's poetry and live as per them, then you will never have any problems in life.

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p.s. To know more about Bahinabai- Atul Pethe  has made an excellent film on her. 

ZMM and the Science of Enlightenment

"In a car you're always in a compartment, and because you're used to it you don't realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You're a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame.  On a cycle the frame is gone. You're completely in contact with it all. You're in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming." 

- By Robert Pirsig (p.5 Zen and the Art of motorcycle maintenance- ZMM)

Although I am the worst cyclist of our 3 person family; I can truly vouch for the above statement after running another 10 k run last month.  Keeping in mind that I started running only about 4 years back with runner girls India and I am not such a great runner. But this year I realized that once you remove yourself from your body and the body-machine gets its natural rhythm you just keep moving. It takes about 10 minutes to get out of the crowd and to hit the proper road. After that, there is no stopping or looking back.  You are like a single drop in the flowing river of people and you just keep moving with them.  So long as you don’t think about your knees, your legs and your heart beat….everything is fine. The moment the worries of what will happen to me when I reach the finish line come to your mind…you are finished! You cannot enjoy the run anymore. So long as you decide to forget your past and future and keep moving your body forward you are okay. Of course, I started realizing this when I read Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance (ZMM).

About 6-7 years ago, ZMM was recommended to me by a colleague.  Before that, all my studies revolved around Physics. So my understanding was primarily limited to “Classical”. During the first reading most of the stuff was beyond my comprehension.  Although, I tried hard I gave up after about 200 pages. I kept thinking that Phaedrus was an imaginary character.  Little did I think that Pirsig is actually trying to tell us about the transition that he went through in reality.

However, this time, I challenged myself to read it till the end and really discovered a lot of things.  My last few weeks have been full of a lot of Zen and not motorcycle but a little bit of home maintenance.  As a school teacher who works long hours during the year, to have such a nice summer break is a luxury. Especially when you are not restrained by a bell ringing every 45 minutes and dictating you and when it is alright to sit and not do anything! By the way, NOT DOING ANYTHING- is one of the hardest things to do. Because when you are not doing anything…you are still doing something i.e. you are trying to not do anything.

Anyway, leave that stupid recursion apart and coming back to ZMM….

This time, the reason I found this book amazing and overwhelming is because I went through Pirsig’s biography (thanks to the internet!). In the early sixties Pirsig was diagnosed with depression, schizophrenia and was even given electric shocks.  I am sure, by the time he started writing ZMM he must have figured out perfectly what that so called mental illness or insanity was about. The book is so direct and honest that no where it feels as if you are reading someone else’s Philosophy. The whole idea of being one with the road while riding the bike without viewing oneself separate from the surroundings tells you that he is not an ordinary thinker or a philosophy professor in some big university.  That particular mental illness could have been a next link in the human evolution. It is an irony that the rational world of Medicine and Neuroscience is unaware of the processes that a brain could go through in a process of enlightenment. How can a mentally sick person write so beautifully? As you go on reading and pondering over it opens up a complete view of our understandings and most importantly it makes you aware of the myths and dilemmas that you carry. It also brings out the limitations of your knowledge. Unless, it is his own experience it cannot be so true! I could experience the power of now while running so i can tell about it. A book such as this cannot be written without enlightenment. Pirsig's way of story-telling is itself a clear proof that he was able to have a holistic view of the world in which there is no 'I'! I hope some psychotherapist will be able to unfold this mystery of enlightenment in future.

Pirsig himself mentions,

For more than three centuries now the old routes common in this hemisphere have been undercut and almost washed out by the natural erosion and change of the shape of the mountain wrought by scientific truth. The early climbers established paths that were on firm ground with an accessibility that appealed to all, but today the Western routes are all but closed because of dogmatic inflexibility in the face of change. (p. 192 ZMM)

Musing over the Mahabharata

“Its about you….if you listen carefully, at the end you’ll be someone else” - says Vyasa in Peter Brooke’s Mahabharata

Mahabharata- the very title means the great story of the entire mankind. I could never believe those mysterious forms of births of the Pandavas. When Bhima killed Dussassana, did Draupadi feel satisfied or what did she really feel like when the war got over? Did she have any feelings left when all her children were killed in war? Did Yudhisthir have any common sense or was he a saint by birth? Can violence be justified? The epic opens so many questions in your mind. Did Kunti ask Pandavas to share Draupadi knowingly or unknowingly? Was there a bigger motive behind polyandry and polygamy in those days? Did Yudhisthir loose himself first before loosing Draupadi in the game of dice?

The wife is a property of the husband, no less than a cow or a slave…..what do you think? The questions can go on and on…

I have always enjoyed Mahabharat stories as compared to the idealistic Ramayana. In my growing years, when i was more of a rationalist i felt that both of these epics are poetries and they did not really happen. A few years back, i read Meera Uberoi’s version of the epic which is factual, unbiased and most importantly readable! Her language is very simple and she maintains the flow of the original epic. Over the last few weeks, i got caught into the web of Palace of illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni. This is a story of Draupadi written in first person. It is the grand old epic in a all new package! Especially, for a busy reader who may not have the patience to read those 18 volumes, this novel gives a wonderful insight into Draupadi’s mind.

Within the past century, there have been several novels on a single character of Karna. In Marathi language alone, there is Radheya (Ranjit Desai), Karnayan (Go.Nee.Dandekar) and Mrutyunjay( Shivaji Sawant). Surprisingly, no one ever took up Draupadi or Kunti as a protagonist for a novel. Chitra Divakaruni has succeeded in bringing Panchali alive. She has voiced the opinions of several contemporary women regardless of their nationality or race.

In a novel, one can alter the story in many ways. In Picasso’s words “Art is a lie that brings us closer to the truth!” Writing a novel requires a lot creativity and imagination. The original epic may get distorted in many ways. However, it is a novel rather than those thick volumes of Mahabharata that has more readerships. Readers can appreciate a novel if they see a similarity with their own lives. When i ponder over the story, i see it happening around me. I am convinced that at least some part of Mahabharata (if not the whole) must have happened the way it is depicted.

As i read these novels and see Peter Brooke’s Mahabharata i hope to muse over some of these recurring thoughts....

Ø     Is the whole world like a huge Palace of Illusions?

Ø     Whatever you do comes back to you…. ( Karma)

Ø     Does wealth and race/caste/ bring you success and happiness?

Ø     Does it matter if one leads an ethical life?

Ø     Your education and expertise do not guarantee you success!

Pindari Glacier Trek

Many years ago when I was studying Sanskrit as a school girl; I was touched by the metaphors in Kumarasambhava.  Kumarsambhava is just a mythological story of Shiva and Parvati’s first born child Kartikeya. This epic poem of Sanskrit Shakespeare- Kalidasa begins with a description of the Himalayas.

God of the distant north, the Snowy Range
  O’er other mountains towers imperially;

Earth's measuring-rod, being great and free from change,

  Sinks to the eastern and the western sea.

I am not sure if Kalidasa had really traveled from Ujjain(M.P.) to Himalayas in the 5^th century A.D. However, it has been my childhood dream to visit various ranges of Himalayas. In the last few years, I have been trying to fulfill it by visiting several places in the mountains. This year I had the honor of organizing Pindari Glacier Trek for a batch of 23 teenagers and two fellow teachers.

Sparkling water of Glaciers

I had seen many rivers however, had no clue about a glacier. Fresh water to me was available in Bisleri bottles. While preparing for the trek, i found out that a glacier is large body of ice which starts flowing downwards at a slow pace. And that they are the largest reservoirs of fresh water. The freshness of glacier water cannot be matched by manmade purifiers. I can now vouch for it because throughout the trek we all kept filling up our bottles from local streams and no one even once complained of stomach problems.

The beginning

Our preparations lasted mainly for the last two months- phones and emails to anxious parents, finding time for meeting the students in their ultra-busy schedules, trips to Decathlon and managing their shopping etc. Finally, we started on 16^th April morning from school. We reached Delhi by flight that afternoon and stayed at Hotel Gautam Delux till the dinner. A number of students had packed loads of luggage as they were going to go home after the trek. All that had to be kept in the hotel and only bare necessities had to be packed in smaller bags. This was one of the toughest tasks as the children did not want to part with any of their belongings. Little did they know about the space crunch in the sleeper class train that they were to board that night? We reached old Delhi railway station about an hour early and waited for the train. I have had several good and bad experiences of train journeys in India but for some my students this was much different than their overseas flight journeys and holidays in air-conditioned resorts of Goa or Hawai! It was difficult keeping them awake and smiling till 10:40 pm. At last, we boarded the train and arranged their berths securely. Some berths were full of dust and few girls refused to even lie down. Soon their tired bodies just gave away and the whole compartment went into dream world.

I kept waking up at every hour to check on each one of them and the baggage. Finally, at around 5:30 am(17^th April) we reached Kathgodam. A tiny mini bus was waiting outside the station. We freshened up at the Kumao Mandal Vikas Nigam (KMVN) guesthouse and immediately left for Bageshwar. The distance between Kathgodam and Bageshwar is just 150 km. The winding roads soon churned our stomachs and the bus turned into a vomit comet (training spaceship J ). After a tough ride of 6-7 hours we reached the Bageshwar rest house for lunch. Luckily four jeeps were arranged during the return journey and it turned out to be much better while coming back.

After lunch and another round of packing stuff into even smaller rucksacks provided by KMVN we left for Loharkhet by jeeps. This was another 45 km roller coaster ride which went through rough roads and smaller villages. This time we were lucky to get jeeps. That evening we concluded our journey by motorized vehicles. From that evening onwards, there would be no TV/mobile connections and no vehicles. We were all set to begin our march to Pindari Glacier with KMVN guide Mr. Bhuvan Pal and his assistants. It was a rainy night and everyone fell off to sleep within seconds.

The trek begins…..

Next morning (18^th April) after breakfast, Mr. Bhuvan gave us a brief idea about our 70 to 80 km trek. We had a minute of silent prayer. One of most important lesson that Mr. Pal said was that if you want to complete the trek successfully Pao Garam, Pet Naram aur Dimag Thanda (i.e. keep your feet warm, stomachs light and the most importantly keep your head cool!). For the agony aunt in me, this was the biggest message of my life and I really tried to keep it in my mind. As I was gasping for a breath, I saw a seventh grader girl barely dragging herself in very first hour of the trek and another hefty ninth grader boy stopped several times due to diarrhea. My worries were haunting me and I felt I may have to stay at the next halt with at least 4-5 of them till the rest reach the Zero Point and return. Our target for that day was 10 km climb and another 9 km climb + descent after lunch. The trails are clearly laid out and these are paths full of rocks and stones. Both sides are lined up with trees of all kinds. Some of wild varieties of flowers were in full blossom and leaves had all possible shades of green and yellow.

The views of the valleys were breathtaking and we got a first peak of Nandadevi range of snow capped mountains from Dhakudi. From Dhakudi to Khati was a relatively easy trek as it started with a downhill path. Here the challenge was that some of the enthusiastic boys and girls just started running down before we could gather the lazy and sick ones. My mind was full of worries….i kept shouting and blowing my whistle but they had gone much beyond. The other two teachers ran to catch them however, the children were too fast! When we reached Khati, we had an assembly and a strict warning was issued. The elder boys were warned that they have to remain within one km range. Next day, this message was taken well and everyone remained in groups and Ms. Leena did a fantastic job of uniting the strong ones with the weaker ones.

Food Glorious Food

The trek would have been impossible without our local support. The luggage was carried by mules and the cooks were amazing. They would carry the provisions and reach just minutes before us. They used to prepare hot soups, tea and savories within minutes. The food was cooked on wood fire and although our kids did not get their daily dose of pizzas and burgers, they all ate well almost till the last day. The daal-roti and rice they prepared made a superb meal after all the walking.

Maggie noodles came to their rescue at several small Maggie shops. It is at one of those Noodlewalls hut I heard the whole story of an ascetic- Pindari Baba who lives beyond the Zero Point. Pindari Baba meditates most of the evening and lives alone. He is a graduate and speaks English very well. Some people said that he has all the modern gadgets of communication. Along with spicy noodles, these talks kept me amused about that whole place.

Khati to Dwali (19^th April)

Khati to Dwali was another 10 km walk full of ups and downs. We walked along Sunderdunga and Pindar River streams. The music of sparkling waters was constantly with us. This time students cooperated and helped each other. Even then, some were on the verge of crying or sitting down. Earlier plan to was to climb up to Phurkia after lunch. That was going to be a tough climb of another 5 km. Luckily, the weather turned bad and our guide gave us a choice of staying back in Dwali. I promptly explained that to students and to my surprise they too felt relieved. They started wandering around and visited the Maggie shop, took out playing cards. It was rather cold and mercury must have dipped to zero. There was a hailstorm followed by a snowstorm for few minutes.

In mountaineering, one should respect the nature. We may be mighty fit in our cities but in the mountains weather can change over minutes. Also, one cannot underestimate the effect of altitude on our bodies.  One has to take the challenge with patience. If one cannot reach the summit that trip, it does not matter. What matters most is your healthy return to the base camp!

All these places do not have electricity supply. For the first time in Dwali, KMVN team connected a generator and managed to do electric fittings in our rooms. That night, we had lights in our room till 9 pm. The sky cleared up after dinner I managed to explain constellations to the students. I was overjoyed to see the Milky Way which is unseen in Bangalore!  

Final Ascent(20^th April)

Though it was only 5 km to Phurkia, it was supposed to be the final endurance test. The road was quite steep and we hit upon small glaciers at every few hundred meters. I have experienced walking in snow. However, here we had to cross steep slopes fully covered with hard ice. We followed the paths shown by the local guides and helped each other to cross. My eyes were constantly over all the children. This was the toughest part of the trek. It was sunny and chilly at the same time. We reached Phurkia at around 10:30 am. The famous Zero Point was just 7 km ahead but it was definitely not in our reach. On our mentor’s instruction we decided to take a few kids a little bit ahead to a spot that had even more snow. I would say this itself was our Zero Point though it must have at some fraction between 0 and 1!

About ten of them were mentally and physically ready to accept the challenge. I decided to accompany them despite my painful ankles as I had taken their responsibility. Later on, at one of the glacier crossings I felt I could not go ahead. I saw my son marching ahead with some of the youngsters and I gathered enough courage to move on. My spirits were motivated and pushed myself ahead with the help of Kumao helpers. Their smiling faces and sturdy hands gave me support and confidence.

The slopes beyond Phurkia  were completely white. I had seen enough snow in the Rocky Mountain and in Buffalo(NY), and even in Ladakh .....but this snow and views of the Pindari Glacier were breathtaking!

My camera just could not capture it and my vocabulary is too limited to describe it. My whole body was extremely cold and sore but I was in the seventh heaven. My name- "Gauri" means Parvati-the daughter of Himalayas! Though i am a non-believer- at that moment i felt that the mountain itself -my Father made sure that i made it. Now, I can appreciate how Pindari Baba is living at the top there for the past 25 years…..it must be worth it! I am convinced that Kalidasa must have been somewhere here. The mobile phone was useless but i looked at a white cloud messenger (Meghdoot) and passed a message to my dear husband and also to my own father!!