Circle of death and life

He perched on a branch of the skeletal tree, every morning, pruning himself in the sun, making his famous hammer-metal calls.

She interpreted those as his good morning wishes to her. Being able to see him from the fourth floor window of the hospital meant she was in the general ward and therefore in better health. In his primary colors, which were the foundation of all kaleidoscopic spectrum, she saw the reflection a colorful life she lived, and thereby her soul mate, who she had lost last year to a persistent and growing tumor.

With him, she raised five kids, sung lullabies to eight grand children and pampered five great grand children. She had monumental pride in their success story.

Now, in the hospital, while her kids and grand kids were invested in the responsibilities of keeping her healthy and comfortable, she was simply bored of being alive alone. She believed the Coppersmith Barbet outside the window was her lover of 55 years who came to say hello during morning tea.

Then one day, this rampant morning affair, oblivious to everybody else, stopped. It was time for the only absolute truth of the circle of death and life to play in repeat mode.

Firangi dreams

Last month my sister had a dream that I was moving to the US and the entire, extended family met at a cousin's wedding.

Earlier this week I found myself at the airport with my friend of 20+ years and I believe (don't remember correctly now) that we were headed to the UK. When I looked at Sanjeev's ticket, I called for him and said, "Sanjeev, your ticket is for Thailand. Mine is for UK." I simply shrugged my shoulders, gave a whatever response and woke up. May be we were just taking a vacation someplace where our destinations didn't match. That would be a disaster :P

This morning was a recurring dream. I am not sure where I was headed, but I found myself going to Ajit's place in the US.  Quite contrary, Sathi ends up picking me up and we head to his place. I know Sathi is seeing somebody, so I ask him, "How's xyz?", and he has this beautiful house of sturdy, grey rocks bordered with bright white lines, very modern yet very old British theme. What's more bizarre is, I have never met Ajit and Sathi in person till date. They are my Facebook friends.

My cell alarm rings.

A blog post to record dreams. My subconscious mind is up to something!

Rao miss

Rao miss is now Headmistress at
Our Own Indian School Dubai

The idea of writing this blog struck me on a train journey this morning. This idea was a retrospective result of a linked in message conversation between me and my most fond memory in school, who in turn had no memory of me.

But that was alright. I wasn't heartbroken. She knew me for only a quarter after which she decided to quit school and go elsewhere.

Last year NCL school, the school I studied in for twelve years, Jr. and Sr. KG included, hosted a big reunion where students from multiple batches gathered and shared school experiences. The reunion must have been grand; I have no doubts but a huge part of me was absolutely detached from all the excitement. I simply didn't care enough.

The only teacher I would have been excited to meet at the reunion was my biology teacher in Std. VIII, Mrs. Amol Rao, and though I didn't verify, I knew she wouldn't be there. Last week, a class mate started a whatsapp group that a majority of us joined and a discussion of Rao miss, as we called her, sprung up. I brought it up with a who-said-to-whom quote, "Sorry doesn't make a dead man alive."

I and another classmate, googled her simultaneously, and encountered her linked in profile. That's when I wrote to her and she responded back as follows, "Hi Jeevan! You are right ... Don't remember you but love to hear from my students! Stay in touch!.................................... Tell me more about you!"

The dots above is missing text where she gave me her number and asked me to get in touch if I was ever in Dubai.

It did not matter that she didn't remember me. Of the teacher and person I got to know in three months, I can only imagine the influence she would have on students who have known her for years.

So, this morning, I wanted to respond back to her through this blog.

My love for biology, a love that spanned across five years until Std. XII,  started in the Std. VIII because of Rao miss. She taught with such devotion that it was only imperative that a student sit back and pay attention.  She drew a huge lesser than symbol at one end of the blackboard with a greater than sign on the other side and united those two into a stunning frog. She eased out diagrams for us in that style. She was adamant that all the labels of a diagram had to be on the right hand side. She was an excellent orator with a commanding voice that deserved undeterred attention.

As is the nature of students, we were making noise in one of the classes that was marked by absence of a teacher, when she barged into the classroom and shut every one up. She blasted us for the poor performance we had showcased in our unit exams and as the blasting had reached its peak, she accidentally gazed upon me. I was seated on the first bench. "Except for Jeevan and a few others," she continued. Then she told the entire class that my paper was beautifully presented.

I have a beautiful handwriting and I say it without both, pride and modesty. It's a genetic gift from my father. I performed really well, topped the class in bio by scoring 17/20. She didn't teach us even for half a semester but she spoilt me with choices. She set the benchmark for all bio teachers in the future and unfortunately, nobody ever measured up to her. Nobody was just as commanding, vivacious and brilliant.

That was her story in my life. "Sorry doesn't make a dead man alive," was probably her favorite quote to all students. Therefore, I never apologize without heart or under circumstances of a situation that I cannot help.

In my school, only the favorites got an opportunity to act in a play or dance to a song during annual gatherings. Favorites such as top rankers, kids related to other teachers, or really smart kids. I was neither. (Today, I am quite the catch, so no regrets ;-)). However, with inspiration gathered from that appreciation, I told Rao Miss that I wanted to act in the English play at the end of the year. Very often, she directed the English plays. But as she was leaving school, she caught hold of my hand and took me to Rupa miss and told her of my interest. One thing led to another and I enacted a part in the annual play. Rao miss apparently transformed me into 'a-child-with-mission'.

As far as the twelve years of school go, I made a couple of decent friends. I have very often heard that childhood friends last forever but this certainly isn't true for me. Some of my closest friends are from junior college and later when I marched into the outside world.

I ditched the reunion by not really making an effort to go. Of course there were other teachers such as Mala miss, Ramchandran miss, Natrajan miss, Rupa miss and Rangarajan miss who I liked, but Rao miss was my most fond memory of NCL school. There is something absolutely Godly (read impartial and unbiased) about her.

You know, those romances of a great love affair that stay eternally alive as part of your soul; in the love affair of my life, Rao miss was my high school romance.

"Lit in gold, sparkled in white"

On the last day of my Bharatpur trip, I didn't want to spend my day in the hotel under the pretext of 'nothing new to see' especially if the primary objective of the trip was photography. "Although factually accurate, the same nature can present itself in a myriad different forms," I thought. So with a hopeful ambition to sight sarus cranes from a close distance, I left for the Keoladeo sanctuary.

Towards the end of the day, I and my travel mate, Ritansh, decided to explore one last uncharted pathway within the sanctuary. While I was busy trying to photograph a hoopoe, who kept flying off sensing even the slightest human presence, Ritansh wandered around deeper on to the pathway. Later, when I signaled him to come back so that we could leave, he flagged me to come over to the area where he was. I perceived this alarm to be an opportunity worthy of photography and it indeed was.

Blocked fawn

Lit in gold, sparkled in white

I brisk walked to the place of call and found a spotted deer with her fawn grazing grass on an island-like grassland. "A sight I haven't seen over the past days," I pondered and decided to get as close as possible to capture a decent picture of the two.

I learned a wee bit of 'waiting for the moment' that nature may or may not transpire that day. I got a few fantastic shots of the deer. But something was amiss. The adorable fawn in the scene was blocked either by a truncated tree on the left or thorns on the right. "Oh God, give me that one great moment where I can lock the mother and fawn into an unfading memory," I hoped. In the next 15-20 minutes that I spent watching them, my wish was granted. The beautiful golden light of dusk nailed the instant as "lit in gold, sparkled in white" with both of the looking at me with hoisted ears.

I was so consumed and gloated in the glory of this moment that I missed another grand flash that nature ensued in the next few minutes. The mother decided to cross the surrounding water wetland. I was so engrossed in getting the two of them again in the same frame that I lost focus on the mother which in solitude would have been a fantastic wet-water-shot. Lesson learned. "Better presence of mind, next time," I told myself and moved on.

Ready to cross

Missed opportunity

Okay, I am lying about moving on. I do sulk sometimes over the missed opportunities in my life as a photographer. Fortunately, I am glad that my personal life boasts of no events that I classify as "missed opportunities". As far as personal life goes, "the best is yet to come."

Bharatpur made me a bird watcher

I have possessed my 100-400mm lens for over an year now and a part of this investment must be credited to the birds that were habituated to spend their early mornings in the vicinity of all homes I have lived in the past two years. Some of these were little brown doves, purple sunbird, oriental magpie robin among other common species. These names, that I flaunt today, hardly made a difference to me 18 months ago when all I simply wanted to do was capture a splendid shot in my camera. I cannot pin point the exact motivation to learn their names but I remember my MBA mate, Preeti, to be an ardent bird watcher. She commented 'little brown dove' on a photo I had posted online and in our, one or two, gym conversations she recommended I buy any book by Salim Ali, the great Indian ornithologist who invested his life studying birds, to better understand the feather folk. I bought myself a reference book called 'A Photographic  guide to Birds of India' by Grewal Harvey Pfister because all of Salim Ali was out of stock. That's where I began to learn a bit of the beautiful birds that bless our habitats with colorful glamour. But, I must admit, it is quite a painful task from knowing nothing to finding the name of a bird among the 500 pages of that book and infinite Google searches.

A bucket list item: someday in the future, I look forward to shoot some absolute gorgeous photos of rose pelicans in all their gigantic glory.

In the last week of December I made Bharatpur happen for me during which time studying birds filled my heart with joy. Mostly, it had to do with Mr. Sarman Singh, boss @ bicycle auto no. 103, who has become acquainted with birds for over 17 years in his role as a cyclist taking tourists around the Keoladeo bird sanctuary. His accent can sometimes become a little difficult to follow but that's where I can look up the reference guides and Google pages to correctly spell a bird species. I saw an abundant variety: green pigeons, Indian roller, storks (painted, black-necked, open bill), parakeets, robins, blue throats, grey horn bill, rose pelicans, herons (grey, purple), greater coucal, darter, hoopoe, black necked redstart, bittens, purple sunbirds, rufous treepie, kingfishers (common and white-breasted), among a few more. I could photograph some beautifully, while others have been pushed to a future bucket list.

BLACK REDSTART FEMALE

BLACK REDSTART MALE

During this trip, I learned that the bird kingdom has more attractive males vis-a-vis  females. More attractive males is a RULE than an exception. (I always knew that about peacocks and peahens, though). At a generic level, in lay man terms,  it has to do with greater vibrancy of colors in males with strategically gifted beauty spots, which are absent in females (for example,  the red breasted flycatcher).  It was during this trip I attempted to distinguish a species based on their sexes. "Black  redstart male," I guessed. Every time Mr. Sarman Singh validated my guess, my heart screamed 'yay' on the inside. Bird watching was an exhilarating experience and especially so because of Mr. Sarman Singh. His depth of knowledge helped identify unseen birds rather quickly. A sense of accomplishment is necessary to keep motivation alive and Mr. Sarman Singh helped me do just that.

RED BREASTED FLYCATCHER MALE

FLYCATCHER FEMALE

Makar Sankranti  is around the corner. So, I would like to call upon the human species and say, "While kite flying is an entertaining sport for us, it can be life threatening to the birds. The birds often get entangled in loose manzaa ends and risk cutting their wings. As a result, they can be seriously injured and later die. So, don't leave loose ends and keep 'birds rescue' contact number handy at all times."

ORIENTAL MAGPIE MALE

ORIENTAL MAGPIE FEMALE

Signing off,

A birdwatcher in making.

Hello 2014

I have high expectations for myself this year. I hope to materialize an end product of my on and off writing effort over the past four years. “It’s now or never,” I tell myself. That is the one big dream for 2014.

As I reflect back on 2013, a year that I didn’t expect much of, I stand in gratitude for the kind treatment meted out to me.

In Pahalgam, Sep 2013 (l) and in Goa, July 2013

2013 started with a bang by spending a weekend at the Sula Fest in February. Mom turned 60 in April and, thanks to my sister, she enjoyed an evening with her friends, family, and colleagues. End June and early July, I traveled to Goa and reveled in some sumptuous food at Brittos. I also learned through personal experience that Goa weather is pretty awesome in July. The starting week of September shocked the hell out of me because aai was hospitalized for a week. I actually travelled with her in an ambulance with the ringing siren over 15+ kilometers. However, the experience has only made me stronger and better equipped to handle emergencies. I treated myself to a Srinagar vacation for my birthday at the end of the same month. This was the highlight of 2013. I have decided that every year I should take a travel vacation in September during my birthday. I had been high on travel throughout 2013 with a small excursion to Panchgani with mom in November and another beautiful vacation to Bharatpur in December. Professional life has been a plateau but I didn’t mind it and won’t either in 2014.

Srinagar in September 2013

“If you love someone, you say it, right then, out loud. Otherwise, the moment just passes you by.” – My Best Friend’s wedding 

View from the room of Peacock houseboat no 5.

As far are loving somebody is concerned, I have included it as a batch process in the backdrop of life. It shall be found whenever it shall be found. However, until then I have decided to work on everything I tend to love intuitively, travel being one, and taken up seriously on not letting the “moments pass me by.”

This year, Kashmir picked me and I decided to celebrate a year of getting older in a place that stands out as exotic for its unprecedented, breathtaking natural beauty. This has been my third visit, once as a toddler and the second as a school kid, making this the only one where I can share my experience uncompelled for a school essay.

There’s a ‘troubled’ dimension to this paradise for a couple of decades now and those impressions cannot be easily dismissed. 

A picture is worth a thousand words

The thrill of a weekend brings with it some Friday Bollywood releases for the metropolitan masses, while Srinagar, on the other hand, shows no fervor for mall culture or multiplexes. Four of the five theatres that existed have been converted to hospitals or other social institutions. Kashmiris don’t prefer paying visits to theatre gatherings that could become targets to terrorism. Nonetheless, the songs of Aashiqui 2 have emerged absolute favorites with most of the population. A September tourist of 2013 would have gotten to hear those on cell phones gallivanting through Nigeen and Dal Lakes on leisurely Shikara rides. I noticed Kashmiris don’t smile much but some of whom I met bowled me over with their warmth. Everybody I chatted up with, and my interface to Kashmiris has been cab drivers, service staff in hotels and houseboats, pony riders among others, has an opinion on politics and fiercely know who should run their government for the benefit of the future. I won’t boast as if I know their souls but spending a week in a place where men and women work together rather industriously growing vegetables for home meals, navigating water traffic through kayaks, collecting lotus leaves as food for cattle, and some modest traders who take overzealous pride in showcasing Kashmiri creations to potential customers, I returned with a feeling where I wanted to indulge myself in the history of the place and better understand the ‘troubled’ piece.  The vegetation of fir and pine at the highest points of sea levels, landscapes with crystal clear flowing water are just complementary bonus. In the wee morning hours of my birthday when I wondered what is it to have lived, I said to myself, “To be affected like someone touched your soul,” and that is exactly what Srinagar did to me.

NIGEEN LAKE, SRINAGAR

Some gold spotted enroute Khyber

As part of tiny research I came across a teaser that read, “The onset of autumn, perhaps Kashmir's loveliest season, is towards September, when green turns to gold and then to russet and red.” However, realistically, Srinagar was just about turning to gold. I learned from an ex college mate of mine on my return flight, who is born and brought up in Srinagar, that to see the gold extravaganza October 15 through October 30 should be the best time. This is also the time when chill starts to set in. The last week of September during the day in Srinagar is hot. I didn’t want to step out even for a walk. While we, my travel mate Jitendra Singh and I, stayed inside during the day, I watched kingfishers flutter their wings over the Nigeen Lake to feed themselves fish. I was advised to stay at Nigeen Lake instead of Dal because it was less crowded and commercial. I would recommend Nigeen Lake as well, especially to bird lovers. A morning shikara ride around the lake between 6:45 – 8:00 is the best time for bird photography where light works in your favor. Kingfishers, pied, common and white-breasted, all are ready to prune and pose for the camera. One can get up close and personal with them. An evening Shikara ride should start at 4:30 p.m. and take you around the Dal Lake and back in three hours.  Eagles hover around the Dal Lake and the sunset is absolutely gorgeous. Make sure to carry some warm clothing because the evenings get chilly. The Shikara ride costs you 600 INR per hour and any shopping time over the Dal Lake is part of the Shikara ride ;-). We stayed at Peacock houseboats and absolutely loved the stay. Food was wonderful. Make sure to ask houseboat no. 5 or 6. I stayed in 5 but both are good and hosted by wonderful staff, Din and Tanvir, respectively.

GULMARG

Exquisite Khyber property

After two nights in Srinagar, we travelled to Gulmarg, which is the highest location from sea level. Gulmarg shows off an unpredictable weather; it can rain anytime but here’s where you get the chill in September. One has to carry warm clothing. We stayed at Khyber, an absolute spectacular piece of property. I was happy to devote part of my (birth) day in company of such exquisite luxury. We had planned two nights here and were told two nights may see two much for Gulmarg. Nevertheless we decided to execute as per plan. The Gondola ride, only attraction of this place was closed but that really didn’t disappoint us. Instead we decided to trek from the hotel to Drung waters in Tangmarg. This trek, walking through the Pine and Fir forests, was the highlight of Gulmarg. Not being able to hit the gym on vacations doesn’t really mean one cannot work out. Trekking shall help you keep the calories in check. Our guide, Manzoor, who was also the liveliest person we met, shed 10-15 kgs just by taking tourists to and fro on Gulmarg treks. Heading out at 9:00 is the morning is perfect. The weather is nippy cold with stunning sunshine for company. En route the trek we came across a remarkable plateau with astonishing view. When we got back, we were hunger struck wolverines. The dazzling dinner menu at Khyber was the best we could ask for except that this place has one, unforgiving failing: they don’t serve wines (or alcohol I think). WTF moment, right? Turns out the owner is not in favor of wines (alcohol) being served.

Someone to make me a Kahawa each eve ;-)

The next day we could have done the Frozen Lake or plateau uphill but we were six months late for spring. So instead Manzoor decided to take us trout fishing to the Drung waters. This was another, slightly tedious trek on pipes and stones but all in vain. I would say, “we were fooled” because later we learned there is no trout in Drung. Manzoor and his companion who took us fishing, believed otherwise. From experience I would advise “no trout fishing” in Drung. Do that in the Lidder river in Pahalgam with permission. That afternoon as we left for Pahalgam, Sajad, service staff at Khyber, advised a visit to Gulmarg in February. Gulmarg is at it’s gorgeous best in winters: thick ice laden mountains for all skiing activity, which is now fostered professionally for amateurs and professionals alike. Everywhere around the property one can find snow. How gorgeous is that? I shall visit Gulmarg again sometime in February and bring myself a date: for some skiing among other adventurous things.

PAHALGAM

Quick guide to travel distances around Srinagar

Gulmarg to Pahalgam is three-four hours of drive depending on stops and therefore one may wish to evaluate deeper on planning Srinagar and surrounding excursions depending on their vacations agendas.

A view of of Pahalgam from Aru valley

View from the Heevan courtyard

As you drive into Pahalgam from Gulmarg, you leave behind mountainous terrain and move into the earthy extravaganza of golden fields over a stretch followed by flowing water from the Lidder river over another. We stayed at Hotel Heevan, which means a flower in the forest, and the best bet to stay in Pahalgam because it is the only property that has the Lidder river view from the window and the front yard. There are other lavish and lovely properties but none with the same view. The rooms are a let down because they are old world and we were in the Khyber-frame of mind, however it may have to do with some legislation that prohibits building any more hotel properties in Pahalgam or renovating them.
On a wonderful early morning, one can simply sit in the front yard and enjoy the music of rattling river water. The front yard at Heevan is adorned in flora, a Kashmir-like sighting, which draws in Himalayan bulbuls and a few other not so people-friendly birds.

Immortalized 'Betaab'

On the first day, I took a pony to Baisaran, the famous plateau of the place: vast expanse of greens surrounded by trees around which yesteryear actors and actresses would have flaunted some dance moves. Over the plateau there’s not much to do except for walk around and revel in the greens. Some small taparis are set up where I got my cup of coffee.

After the pony ride at walking distance from the hotel, we went to the deer park which was awful and where we wanted to teach a bunch of kids and grown ups about behavior towards caged animals.  However we let go of the knowledge sharing opportunity to avoid sounding like visitors who preach behavior. The golden sunset of the evening was spent at Betaab valley, a valley named after the hit romantic film. “Sunny Deol and Amrita Singh have effectively been immortalized,” I was convinced. As the gold turned to dusk, we took a quick drive around Aru valley that presented a magnificent view of Pahalgam from a hilltop. Aru valley presents opportunities for camping and hiking around Pahalgam!

While modest living is a routine sight across Srinagar (and more than half of India), Pahalagam is the only place around Srinagar where I experienced money being solicited by a child. Now, I don’t wish to promote the act, but until I was equipped to run an institution that offered self reliant opportunities for the deprived or found such an institution worthy of donation, I gathered I can offer some money for a picture!! A couple of the hotel Heevan housekeeping staff were uncool to list their names on a visiting card and cram it in my hand for a good review on trip advisor. That’s not a way to win brownie points now, is it?

DACHIGAM SANCTUARY, SRINAGAR

Jitendra Singh (l) and Manzoor on Gulmarg trek

I scheduled a visit to Dachigam sanctuary as the final highlight of the trip and so we travelled back to Srinagar for our one-night last stop. Dachigam is around 16-20 kms from Srinagar airport and a 45 minutes drive from Peacock houseboats.  Unfortunately, let down by our cab driver and mismanagement, we didn’t get the sightings we had hoped for. However, I had a chance of a brief conversation with Nazir Mallik, a wild life expert who knows the sanctuary at the tip of his hands. I saved his number and shall look forward to my next trip during which time I hope to see the grandeur that this sanctuary offers.

Visit to the Dachigam sanctuary and trout fishing needs prior written permission from designated authorities. Please make sure to have one and take note that the sanctuary is closed on weekends.

The idea of a vacation was to do the planning all by ourselves so we chose not to go through any tours or travels. Perhaps, we like the project management of our professional lives experienced in the real world ;-). We didn’t set a budget for the trip and simply decided to explore the place and experience hotels first hand. It came to approximately 33,500 INR per person for eight days (from September 21-28) after some good discounting from friends and coupons. Flight tickets booked three months in advance cost 10000 INR.

I have been so smitten by Srinagar that I want this visit to mean more. So, I shall look forward to visiting again, hoping to make an enduring connection.

More pictures can be found on facebook.