Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

A year later…


Beware!!! It’s gonna be a long story!!!

It’s been exactly a year since I and S went on a journey to one of the most travelled land in India- Rajasthan. I can still feel the sticky sand that hugged our skin amidst the sand dunes of Sam, Jaisalmer. I would definitely love to go back to that land with few more destinations in my list but might want to undo some of the unusual experiences we have had during our stay there!
Ours holidays have always been ‘budget holidays’ considering the number of places that is there in our list. So “spend less on stay, food and travel as much as possible and travel to faraway places” is our policy. Of course food does have some exception as we ‘have’ to taste some of the authentic regional dishes. We could save a lot by choosing train journey instead of a flight to reach our present destination- Jaipur. Our plan was very simple- it consisted of Three J’s of Rajasthan: Jaipur- Jaisalmer – Jodhpur. Of course it would end with a short visit to Pushkar as our return journey was from Ajmer which was close to Pushkar.  

We allotted only a day to Jaipur as we had decided to visit this place again when we travel to Delhi. But all the while we knew one day was not enough to lay our eyes on such a city with so many marvelous structures in its credit. Nevertheless, we did manage to see most of the forts of Jaipur except of course the famous HawamahalL The moment we entered its premises, its doors were closed!
To travel to Jaisalmer, we again had to take a night train from Jaipur to Jaisalmer.
The first thought that hit us the moment we entered the crowded railway station of Jaipur that night was “was this station always so packed or is it so only today?” We moved in inches to reach our platform. As we reached our platform, our thoughts turned to fear looking at the gathered people ‘supposed’ to be travelling to Jaisalmer. ‘Unlucky’ as I might put it, we had only a sleeper class ticket with us for this journey and not an AC berth. This meant only one thing, the people wouldn’t even mind occupying ‘any’ seat and throwing us out from our own! The crowd did not look the type who would listen to someone if a situation I just explained arose. They were all (all of them) from rural places travelling to reach only ‘one’ destination- to attend a religious congregation. Apart from these there was one whole cadre of army men (mostly trainees) who thronged the platform within no time. Cuddling our baggage we patiently waited for the arrival of train. I and S even made plan as to how we could get into the train quickly and look for the seatsJ As the train approached and came to a halt, we pushed ourselves and got inside. There were people approaching from all directions. The only way, we thought, we could keep our seats to ourselves was to go to sleep as soon as possible. Having obtained both upper berth seats we decided to climb on and fall asleep (or pretend to do so). The immediate thought that stung my senses I climbed up was- “How am I to go to the washroom if I want to?” Because, it was not only the seats that were full but even the aisle was filled with people. I wouldn’t dare get down and walk through midst those people!

Lying there looking at the roof and the circling fan (the only source of ventilation), I couldn’t close my eyes. So many thoughts rushed in the mind. It was not just about how we got in the train or how stupid of us to have booked seats in a sleeper class rather than an AC berth. The feeling was more than that. It was almost like witnessing people from another world. Amid the popularity of Rajasthan for its heritage sites lay poverty, helplessness of people and the struggle they went through every day. Many of them (or almost all) did not have a ticket to travel. It was only a witness to their deplorable condition. The army jawans struggled to get seats and finally they decided to put themselves on ease in the aisle. They were not even provided reservations, it showed nothing but apathy.  

No longer had I closed my eyes with all these feelings than I woke up with jolt in the early hours of morning. It was because of the cry of a baby sleeping next to our seat. The baby was not even 6 months old probably, crying incessantly- as I could gather it was due to hunger. The mother lay next to her helpless along with her two more elder children. It was evident the mother did not feed her (the reason for which cannot be questioned I think) and the baby desperately sucked its thumb now and then just as an act of consoling itself. This continued for a long time until the train stopped at a station and the baby’s father bought a glass of tea. He dipped his finger in tea and dropped a few drops of it in baby’s mouth; just enough to wet the thirsty tongue of that tiny tot.

Luckily, they got down after a short while and the remaining crowd too. The whole train looked almost empty!!! Only after this, had I got down from the upper berth and sat next to a window- to see the coming of parched land of desert. It was almost 9.30 in the morning and I sat there without hunger trying to take in all that had happened the previous night. It meant only thing to me, all that people think of about Rajasthan is beautiful forts, loads of shopping, camping in desert and camel rides but this journey showed more than that. And in a way I felt good that I saw the other side of Rajasthan too.

The heat waves that hit my cheeks brought me back to the present and also to mine and S’s next destination- Jaisalmer. We had decided to spend almost 4 lazy days in Jaisalmer- no rushing and no running around. We explored the place quite lazily but later the blunder that we committed was to choose ‘sleep under the stars’ option for our desert safari. Being only two of us with having left our daughter back home with my parents, we thought the experience would be quite romantic. But as we discovered it, it was more for people who hadn’t had an experience of a village life (or like the foreign tourists who accompanied us who thoroughly liked the happenings). For us, who had already seen a village life before and had seen more stars on the darkest of nights, it was not extra-ordinary. Moreover, it was scary too without any source of lighting around us with beetles being our companions (and of course we couldn’t rule out the presence of scorpions too!)
We were mesmerized to see the Mehrangarh fort in Jodhpur the next day. Among all the forts that we had seen, it was the most magnificent one! It was only a day’s stay in Jodhpur and from there we decided to travel to Pushkar in a regular state transport bus. As we booked our tickets, S was happy to see flat 30% discount on my ticket. It was the case with all the ladies who travelled in state transport bus.

Pushkar was a religious place or supposed to be so. Of course, the temple here (the only temple dedicated to Lord Brahma) is sacred but not the people who reside in it. It is over- inhabited by foreigners and immensely commercialized to the extent that people coming here seeking peace for their ancestors’ soul may forget their purpose. The sudden downpour and the subsequent result because of that rain (many roads blocked from water) was a witness how such religious places can be ill used. The scene was a reminder of Uttarakhand floods. It could easily be reasoned out how such religious places could be drowned to that extent. Nature was not at fault, it was all man-made.


Drenched in rain we somehow managed to reach Ajmer to start our journey back to Hyderabad.  Few good men really helped us to reach the station on time. The unceasing rain was like an epilogue to wrap up our travel experiences of The Desert Land.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Stories of childhood


I feel older when she insists me to recite stories of my childhood. This happens quite often now as our television has become obsolete. The stories of my school, of my play, of my mischief, of my visits to grandparents and my encounters with my numerous cousins...

And, as the stories unwind there follows inquiries such as 'why don't I have?' or 'why wasn't I there?'
It's difficult to explain how things have changed now: from how 'we' were to how 'they' are now.
It's changed from playing in gallis and fields and farms to just play areas or parks with a slide and swing.
It's changed from playing on streets to corridors or parks.

The mere act of 'cycling', for example, has reduced to 'riding within restricted vicinity'. On roads it's dangerous. I often get reminded of the cycle rides that took us from school to friends' house;from picnics to coaching classes. A bicycle was everybody's best friend then.

How I wish I could show her what a joy that would be!
At least she is lucky, in a sense that her grandparents stay in a village where she can still enjoy things in its true sense.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Collection


Now, that I have all the time in the world to leisurely attend to some tasks which were left behind untouched gave me the chance to arrange and rearrange the collection of postage stamps in my album (not to forget the new look that has been given to S's coin collection).

As a school-goer I collected hundreds of stamps- begging, borrowing and even stealing (sometimes when the stamp seemed very expensive) from the posts of others' house.

Though collecting stamps and obtaining them, now, is an easy task with the deposits at the post office. Then, it was not known and the money too to buy them was insufficient.

So all that beg, borrow, steal concept.

But I do remember one of my cousin who promised to send me postage stamps from the US every time I wrote a letter to him (In English).

Being a student of Kannada medium class I had difficulty with English, not so much with writing but with speaking.

With hesitation, I had it started and he kept his promise by sending about 20-30 stamps of different nationalities each time.
I never asked him where did he get his supply of those beautiful stamps from.

Today, flipping those pages gives a different kind of joy and has given me the idea of showcasing them through this blog which I intend to begin soon.

Monday, March 12, 2012

I have been reminded of my father's cooking since yesterday.
Every time my mom out somewhere for more than a day or so it would be my father who would cook for me and my sister.
He is a great cook I must tell.
By adding more than the usual 'tadka' and 'masala' he would make very tasty sambar and rasam.
And he was too tired or bored of his own food he would take us to the nearby RamaRao mess (in Davangere) which me and my sister always waited for.

Recently, he even tried cooking Pulav just for himself when mom was out.
So now I know where I get the habit of cooking for ones' own self and not just for others. We need to care for our tummy and our taste buds too:)