Part 3 -Story of a Kashmiri Wedding - An Affair to Remember

So the day before the wedding came. It was the day of the maenzraat. Generally, in a KP wedding, another ritual of sacred thread is combined with the main event, especially for the groom and if not groom then some close relative. In the Bhat camp, it was the miniature devil, Akshit, Amit’s cousin and in the Raina camp, Meenu’s Rockstar younger sibling Anil (aka Amit aka A1) who were all set to give up the scalp hair in the next 2-3 days. The maenzraat was combined for Amit and Akshit on the same evening.

I guess that a bride’s mehandi raat is more elaborate than a groom’s. Having attended Meenu’s mehandi raat a couple of days ago, I had no doubt about it. First of all, applying henna design on palms and feet is a feminine trait and now-a-days brides are very curious about the henna designs since they form the major part of their wedding albums. When we arrived for Meenu’s mehandi raat, she was all in for the intricate henna designs by the artist and when we left, yes, she was still in for the designs. Further, Raina camp had 3 luxuries at that time. The Bachkot performance, performance by Anil Raina on his guitar (oh I remember he being conservative about applying henna on fingers so that he can play his guitar) and a gap of 2 days before wedding

The Bhat camp didn’t have the luxury of a rockstar playing a guitar and a gap of 2 days. I constantly heard that guests would be arriving by afternoon and we would have to be ready for it. I was still wondering who the guests were. After a little inquiry, I came to know that they were the maternal relatives of Akshit who would be bringing milk (why??...that is an old tradition, dude!).  So somehow I was also made the part of the company who would be facing the guests at the gates. Never in my life, I have hugged so many strangers but that happens in Kashmiri wedding. Never in my life I have got so many pecks on my cheeks but that happens in Kashmiri Wedding.

Test of my character was waiting for me as I myself presented for the service. It was Kodak moment when a son-in-law of a KP family was seen with two plates in two hands full of sweets serving the guests with a smile on his face. Generally, it should not be happening – kind of a protocol. And I am the nemesis of protocols. Another protocol I was breaking was that of an attire. The last week of November is bound to be chilly in Jammu. While everybody else were clinging to their sweaters, coats and phirans (the traditional kashmiri overcoat), I stuck to a black lycra t-shirt with a half sleeve jacket flaunting non existing deltoids. J

As the evening approached, the environment became more lively. One of the best things about Kashmiri wedding is the abundance of tea (sweet- called as Lipton chai and salted known as sheer/nun chai) as well as cold-drinks along with munchings like breads like crip. It is the groom’s (as well as bride’s) paternal aunt who has the responsibility (and privilege) of applying mehandi and again gets handsomely paid. So if any of the paternal aunts (buaa)  are thinking about belittling this relation then I vouch for the KP Buaa…she gets the attention and money, both! JThe groom’s mehandi is not as elaborate as the bride’s and for obvious reasons. The relatives are also adored with some henna on their hands by the paternal aunt and you have to reward her for that. J

The maenzraat celebration asks for a similar spread of food as of wedding day since this is the biggest feast from the groom’s side as the wedding takes place (or is arranged by) as per the Bride camp. The typical and popular menu is dum aloo (deep fried perforated potato cooked in spices), wazul chaman (paneer chunks in red gravy), lyadur chaman (paneer chunks in yellow gravy), nadroo yakhni (lotus stem in spicy yoghurt gravy), rajma (kidney beans in red gravy) and chok wangun (tangy brinjals/aubergine/eggplant…did you know all these names?) and the ubiquitous BATTA (or steamed white rice). I am always fascinated by the fact of rice being the most essential item on the platter and can be easily compared to penchant of Bengalis and South Indians. It’s slightly unusual to see the rice being consumed so heavily in this part of India, just after the mighty Paratha Kingdom of Punjab. I am writing a separate article on food so no more discussion here.

After this ordeal, there is another ordeal of Devgone (Nothing to do with Ajay or your Devgan). It is quite an elaborative process signifying the advent of Grihasthashram for the groom giving up his Bramhacharya stage. The curious bunch may again google for it. I personally was not attending this part but couldn’t stop laughing when I saw the video footage because of the cameos of Akshit. He was enraged with cold water being poured on him and his mobile toy phone getting drenched. J

After the sumptuous meal, all are set for the much awaited celebrations of dance and music. It is now becoming a common practice to invite Bachkot. Bachkot is the dancer who accompanies the singing group and entertains the audience for a considerable part of the night. So Bachkot’s popularity is inching new high every wedding season due to high demand. In Kashmir, this was never a trend where the womenfolk amongst themselves used to sing and dance. The bachkot and party plays traditional kashmiri songs and people gyrate on these. Now-a-days, Sunny Paji would be very happy to hear “Main Nikala Gaddi Leke” being one of the popular numbers and dubbed in Kashmiri too. However, having mehandi raat on the eve of wedding has its repercussions.  

Due to being awake for a long time in the night, most of the baratis wake up puffed and bleary eyed, too dazed to come to the terms of making hurry. I, after having brief sessions of dancing with Bachkot and others, stealthily made my way to the beddings. My better 3/4^th played a pivotal role in this. Though she, I could see was getting clearly stressed. With good meal and some exercise, it was not difficult for me and others to sleep even in the blaring output of the loudspeakers where the bachkot and party was playing songs. We were all set for the big day the next morning

Part 2 -Story of a Kashmiri Wedding : An Affair to Remember

Gold, the yellow metal has always been a matter of obsession, possession and frustration for the mankind, especially for the fairer sex. Kashmiri female folks are no exception for this and rather most of them can actually represent an organization smitten with gold. ‘Dyej hur’ is the most important and an interesting ornament worn by married kashmiri pandit women. It is KP answer to ‘mangalsutra’ for the rest of India. So the tradition of wearing Dyej Hur was supposedly started by the Kashmiri Saint, Lalleshwari or popularly known as Lal Ded. It still gives me jitters to see women wearing such a heavy ornament dangling from the ears. The provision for it is generally made in the childhood and well, must have to be done with local anaesthesia. It takes a considerable skill and long time for the women folk on the wedding day to make the bride wear her dyej hur. It must be painful for the bride too. Or is it just a small gesture to signify…welcome girl, welcome to the new world of pain and responsibilities! Whatever!  

My sincere advice to the father of an unmarried kashmiri girl – You must start accumulating gold as soon as a daughter is born to you if this crazy obsession with gold is not to see any waning in future. Such an undeterring consciousness amongst the elderly women about what and how much gold the bride is wearing!

Let us come to the main event now. A few days before the wedding the ‘saath’ has to be taken to prepare the mehandi for the maenzraat (Mehandi Raat). This is generally a responsibility of Paternal Aunt of the bride and groom. So she prepares the mehandi for the maenzraat on the day of saath with the womenfolk of the house singing the songs in appreciation of the Ganesh, the god of all auspicious events. The recurrent ‘Om Shree Ganeshay Namah’ sounds like ‘Omshrew Ganeshayen Maha’ after repetitive hearings. The aunt gets handsomely paid for this job though.

 Amit’s aunt, Shanno who is probably one of the most enthusiastic persons I have ever come across takes utmost pleasure in these proceedings. And yes, nobody is match for her when it comes to dancing on any kashmiri song. So actually Anita (my better half) and Shanno managed to dance for a while on the tune of Omshrew Ganeshayen Maha! J 

Co-operation of womenfolk in relatives and neighbours (and strictly in this order otherwise most of the relatives will be holding grudge which is generally known as ‘vaar’ in Kashmiri) is of prime importance. They play an important role in tasks like cleaning of rice and vegetables. They keep on singing traditional songs while doing the tasks. It all adds to the vibrancy of the atmosphere and beacons that the wedding is approaching.

A ‘Satsang’ was arranged on the evening a day before the shifting. It overlapped with Meenu’s mehandi raat. So me and Anita made a brief appearance for the Mehandi Raat before travelling back to attend the …hold your breath.. (me and..??) Satsang! Before I go ahead, kudos to your ‘Waza’, Raina Camp, the food was fabulous…loved every bite of every item prepared. Initially, I had my reservations for attending the satsang but I attended it and tried my hand at ‘Tumbaknaer’, a typical kashmiri instrument, which was appreciated. For the curious people, please google ‘Tumbaknaer’.

Shifting of people and goods to the venue of wedding remains a challenging task. This emanates from the earlier luxury of availability of resources in Kashmir. Now in Jammu (or anywhere else) few have the privilege of having an open space within the fences of home to conduct a marriage. So it is imminent that you book the marriage hall right in advance. Generally, winter (say November and December) are the preferred months for weddings. Hence, the wedding halls are bound to be booked well in advance and  if by luck (good or bad), any hall is available, the management will show all efficiency to loot the customer by charging stratospheric sums. In Jammu, the halls are generally called Resorts/Palaces or Banquet Halls but not just halls. J

Due to the wedding of Amit and Meenu planned in November, my father-in-law and his younger sibling had some sleepless nights over booking of the wedding hall. Some were asking rent of Rs.2 lakh per day and all we wanted was minimal stay of 5 days (Read as a cash outflow of Rs.10 lakh) So somehow good luck prevailed and out of nowhere, my in laws were able to book hall in Kashmiri Pandit Sabha (KPS) in Amphalla in central part of the city at a meager fee.

On Tuesday, 27^th November, we started the shifting process in the morning. This is similar to establishing a new house. You carry almost everything with you rendering your house empty and thus, less vulnerable to theft. Three rooms were available with one main hall at the KPS. One was declared as the store room which can be entrusted with a very reliable person only. It is the holy grail for all your requirements during the wedding. The most reliable (as well as slightly unfortunate) souls selected for this task was my better half (actually a better 3/4^th), Anita from the Bhats and Meenu’s younger sister (and Amit’s sis-in-law), Neha from the Rainas.

Rainas had camped at Unique Resorts in Barnai (Ahh..those wonderful memories of Barnai…Me in nuptial ties with Anita….at Durga Nag Trust, Barnai….4 years…hello, come back!) which is fairly near from their residence in Patouli. For the uninitiated, Barnai and Patouli are parts of Jammu on Akhnoor Road and the road lined with chilled water from Chinab in the canal (How good of me…I can become a driver of a matador bus in Jammu.. he he he…) On the other hand, Bhats had chosen (or were coerced with this fair option of) KPS which is 22km away from their residence in Jagati Mini Township, near Nagrota (on the way to Sri Nagar and Katra…yay…qualified as the guide of Jammu now…) But the advantage of being at KPS – it was situated in Amphalla in the central part and hence was accessible easily from everywhere. Guess I was the guy who made the most of it due to its proximity to Kachchi Chavani, Parade and Pucca Danga! (Ahh…Director of Tourism, now!)

In KPS, Amphalla, along with the main hall, we had three rooms to do everything from chatting to relaxing to sleeping to keeping our luggage to changing clothes. No..not three rooms..as I mentioned earlier, one was labeled as store room with restricted entry. Hence, 2 rooms were available, a fairly open space for tents (I don’t know what the thorny tree was doing there and why was it allowed to grow so big?) and a temple with arrangement for Yagna (or holy fire) for the sake of all the ceremonies. And…well no…nothing…that’s it…!

Being the only guy in the Bhat camp who knows four wheeler driving, I automatically got the responsibility of driving the brand new Wagon R vxi on the roads of Jammu. The Wagon R was recently bought by Amit’s uncle and gave me the much needed experience of driving on the roads of Jammu. The vehicle came very handy for all the mornings that we didn’t spend at Amphalla. Oh yes, skills are essential and necessary. We youngsters had the luxury of travelling all the way to Jagti to get ready and other folks fought a hard battle at KPS which I don’t want to describe.

Now the wedding feeling was sinking. The relatives had arrived and all of us were ready for maenzraat (known as Mehandi Raat elsewhere).

Part 1 - Story of a Kashmiri Wedding - An Affair to Remember

Having attended 3 kashmiri weddings (including my own) in a short span of 4 years and all set in the vibrant city of Jammu, puts me in a fairly comfortable position to write a detailed account of this very complex yet highly co-ordinated event in every Kashmiri Pandit’s life. May God be with you if you happen to be the bride’s father! Now, I am back after attending my brother-in-law’s wedding, all I can do is to start burning the extra fat I must have accumulated by gorging on the dum aloos, chaaman (paneer for the uninitiated), rajma, nadru….. Now you know what I am gonna write about but hold on….it is not about only food…let’s talk!!!

So as it begins with every Indian wedding, exchange of horoscopes (which are known as ‘teknis’ in kashmiri dialect) happens and then the kundalis are calibrated if the girl and boy are a good match. Generally, 18 gunas need to be matched to declare that the kundlis are matching. There are total 36 gunas which are   which are calibrated for the match. Even matching of all 36 gunas is not considered good. The same was the case for Ram and Sita from the magnum opus ‘Ramayana’ and almost everybody in India (I am not too sure about Justin Bieber and Hannah Montana fans) knows the fate of this protagonist couple of the Ramayana.

Every event related to wedding has to be done on an auspicious day which beacons the smoothness and seamlessness of all the processes in the future. This particular day amongst the KPs is known as ‘saath’. It has its own significance and will be repetitive in my elaboration of different events of the wedding. The other repetitive term is ‘vaar’ but let us discuss it specifically as it is a common human trait. In Kashmir, or specifically in Sri Nagar, the elders used to find a ‘saath’ so that all the family members (of course along with the boy and girl) can meet and decide upon the future proceedings. The meetings in Sri Nagar generally took place in the gardens near the revered shrine of the Kheer Bhawani Temple. I heard that people used to carry tiffins in hot cases and used to make merry at the venue.

Being in Pune, our own couple, Amit (the docile and good looking Bhat and my brother in law) and Meenu (his beautiful and universal friendly wife and the eldest daughter of the Rainas) decided to meet at the Pune’s version of Kheer Bhawani, The Chatushrungi Temple. I was not surprised when I heard that.  The talks went well and Amit and my in laws quest for the best girl ended. And here again, I was not surprised. J

Boy (and his family) liking the girl (and her family) and vice versa initiates the preparation of the wedding. In my view, Kashmiri wedding is one of the complex weddings I have ever came across. Rather, it is the most complex wedding ceremony. Kashmiri Pandits (at least the generation which is enthusiastically undertaking the responsibility of this ceremony for their kids in late 20’s) don’t believe in outsourcing. They take responsibility of even minute commodities like spices (uh…ohhh…some eyebrows almost touched the scalp hair…did I use the word minute for spices?....Thousand apologies!)

 The origin of this trait probably lies here. Most of the KPs have been owners of large farms across Kashmir and preferred to stay near farms. Sri Nagar could officially be regarded as the city of office goers otherwise not. There was no concept like nuclear families and almost everywhere were joint families in the hinterland of Kashmir. So there were many brains to think and many hands to work. Neighbours were always at disposal for any kind of work and when it came to a wedding, they used to work as if it was the event in their own home. Families of KPs stayed in multi-storied buildings and almost every home had a huge open space in front of the home and fenced. What an ideal arrangement for wedding!

The elders in the home took responsibility of almost everything. The toughest in my view is the purchase and procurement of vegetables. I am sure that McDonald’s or other fast food chain restaurants employees can get a crash course in procurement of vegetables if asked to be the part of the preparations of the wedding. For example, for preparation of dum aloo (which is the king of the ‘saal’), you need to have potatoes of specific variety and of specific size. If dum aloo goes wrong in the wedding then your ‘izzat’ is lost forever (No matter how many ‘firsaals’ you may come up with). Every member of the family had something to do and something to answer for. This trait is still intact in the elder KPs though I see a bleak future for it.

‘Poshpilnavan’ officially marks the beginning of the wedding festivities in both the houses. Poshpilnavan can be roughly translated as the exchange of flowers in a temple by the families of the groom and the bride. I have witnessed a single Poshpilnavan ceremony which was kinda modified as per the circumstances. It happened in the Ganesh Temple of my colony. My parents and relatives were clueless as they were facing it for the first time. My in laws must be heavy hearted as the place where Poshpilnavan took place was not Jammu and probably on account of the counterparty being absolutely clueless of such an important ceremony. J All I can recount was a hearty exchange of two bouquets of gerberas and sweets. My KP friends need not necessary relate their Poshpilnavan with the narrated one. In fact, Poshpilnavan is an event of jubilation. Food is an integral part of the jubilation.

We couldn’t participate in the Poshpilnavan ceremony for Amit and Meenu. So no details on the original kashmiri ceremony. Guess I need to wait for another wedding to happen!     

Poshpilnavan is considered to be as good as an engagement. The concept of engagement ceremony though is catching strong grounds after most of the KPs have left the valley. Haven’t heard many though talking about engagement as enthusiastically as Poshpilnavan. J Amit and Meenu though were determined  to make it happen. And…well it actually happened on the day of wedding itself. But it happened. The rose trick at the engagement ceremony was interesting though myself and Arvind had arranged for the resources. I will talk in detail about it later.

After Poshpilnavan, people in both the houses get extremely busy. Booking of the wedding hall, shopping for the clothes and gold, making arrangements for the guests and the toughest challenge – food. ‘Saath’ has to be taken for every act mentioned above. You need to make it sure that you don’t start the process on a wrong foot and yes, this is applicable to the close relatives also. I’ll discuss in detail regarding the proceedings in second part.



Foodtrails : Oli Bhel (A delicious and original version of Bhel from Western Mahrashtra)

Every region has a distinct cuisine to offer. And this becomes very obvious in a country like India which has 28 states which are loosely based on language spoken in the region. The cuisine suffers a labeling syndrome. For instance, the UP is mainly associated with Awadhi cuisine and the lesser known cousins like Kumaoni (though the platter offered by them is certainly not as exquisite as Awadhi) never get a fair share of recognition. In a similar manner, a single tag for Maharashtrian cuisine is unjust (like a single tag of ‘Lavani’ for Maharashtrian culture.. how pathetic!)

So Maharshtra itself has a variety of cuisine to offer (and hello…MODAKS are not everyday item in Maharashtra!). There is Malwani, Khandeshi, Marathwada, Nagpuri, Mawal. Even in the Western Maharshtra, Kolhapur and Satara have distinct stuff to offer in your plate. Geographically, Sangli which is sandwiched between these two districts seems to be more influenced by the garrulous Kolhapuri cuisine due to its proximity and has nothing special to offer. But one motley mix which can set your gastric juice on fire at any time in a day (as well as night) is the ‘Oli Bhel’ available throughout the district.

A word of caution- the Oli Bhel must not be confused with the Geela Bhel, an insipid and slimy version of Sukha Bhel, in which Mumbaikars take pleasure in digging their teeth and feel that it is the best bhel they can have. Its true…Everything sells in Mumbai! J

So coming back to my homeland, Oli Bhel remains the most sought after snack on the streets overpowering the contenders like Vada Pav and Bhajiyas. Essentially enjoyed on a hand pulled cart, stay away from the restaurant version unless you are a hygiene freak (and hence, low on immunity he he he). Some of the bhel carts have almost turned into institutions over the years. The famous ones like the Golden Special or Mahesh in my town are situated in the heart of it as well as the legendary Rajabhau Bhel in Kolhapur

The sight for all carts is same and typical. A small tube light enlightening the menu in bold type inscribed on a small plastic façade. More of a similar menu for everybody. But the institutions are thronged by its patrons. The finely chopped onions, tomatoes and the deep fried green chilies make it a visual fest before you actually dig your teeth into it. As compared to other famous snacks like Potato Vada, Samosa, Kachori or other fried items, this snack lacks the ‘waft factor’. Hence, is totally dependent on visual appetizing and mouth publicity.

So what are the basic ingredients in the oli bhel – There are kurmuras (puffed rice) and that special version is available here in Western Maharashtra and not in Mumbai, the mixed farsaan (including gaanthiya, papadi, khari boondi, sev- not the nylon version- genuine chickpea flour), little amount of red chilli powder, chopped onion, tomatoes, coriander. The important ingredient is the khatta and meetha paani, made up of tamarind and jaggery with slight hint of mint. This is added after the all the ingredients are mixed in a large bowl. The amount of this special broth (khatta and meetha paani) is sufficient enough to provide tasty coating to other ingredients. Some enthusiasts demand additional dose of this broth but this makes the bhel slightly slimy and leading to imbalance of other tastes. This also kills the crunchiness of other ingredients. Though an oli (wet) bhel, crunchiness is also an essential quality of a good bhel.

Oli Bhel has also turned out to be a major employment provider for the youth I this area. However, it is also important to understand the gimmick of providing those sublime tastes through this motley mixture. Blessings of foodies like me, otherwise are always there for the people who actually make money by feeding other people. What could be another good deed, indeed!

Diary of a Traveller - Himachal Pradesh - Day 5 - White Water Rafting and Trek to Apple Orchard @ Kullu

Skipping the Rohatang Pass visit on the earlier day provided us the leverage to explore Manali on the 1^st day only. We were suddenly open at the prospectus of designing our own itinerary for that day. So we decided that we will spend our day at Kullu which is 40 km away from Manali.

Anita was very keen to visit Trishla Shawls again. She looked like enamored by the shop and she had to cut short her shopping last time since I was tired. Hence, we headed towards Kullu in the morning at around 10 AM. Needless to say it is one of the picturesque drive as Beas accompanies all the way. The water is always gushing, brown and frothy in monsoon increasing the thrill of white water rafting which I was about to experience.

A 40 km drive does eat at least an hour and another hour was spent at Trishla Shawls. So just after 12 noon, we headed towards banks of Beas where the rafting was available. Normally, during monsoons, rafting is avoided; but the old economic theory always works practically in such situation. I had to shell out a premium amount to get into that brown frothy flow of Beas. After a lot of negotiation, we settled for 1400 bucks with overstated commitment of rafting time. Anita, as usual was spearheading the negotiation (like a true investment banker) and I was quiet with a smile on my face.

I put on the rafting gear i.e. life jacket and helmet. We inflated our raft with the help of the pump and lifted it to put it in the water. Anita was constantly asking my guide about the safety measures and he was prompt is responding every query very efficiently.

I was very happy that I was the only guy who had boarded the raft along with the guide. The water however didn’t look challenging at all. At least not for me. The rapids probably belonged to max 2 degree. Finally, I settled in the raft sitting in the front while the guide sat in the back guiding the raft in the proper direction. Honestly, I underestimated the power of this river. I could feel the pace with which water was flowing. Sitting in the front of the raft gave me an amazing view of the river. There was also a twist in the way we were riding. The raft is capable of carrying 8 people and hence there are least chances that the raft going turtle in the mid of the water. The probability here was pretty high with one pillion and one guide. And this was told to me in the mid of the water. I think that further peppered the challenging task. Go turtle, how exciting!

However, nothing like that happened in those 7-8 minutes amidst the flow of Beas. I took a plunge in the ice cold water couple of times as the raft riding on a high wave and then crashing in the water groove. That was fun! So that ride came to end very swiftly as the flow of water. Sometimes I feel that Anita had a better view when I check the videos she had shot while I was on raft. She also had a ride in an open jeep for almost the same time.

By the time, I had got out of the raft, I was fully drenched. What I needed was a quick change and something to eat! We headed for Chandu Thakur’s shop for both purposes. As I have mentioned that on the day we entered Kullu, we had pondered over the possibility of trying an authentic Himachali cuisine. Chandu Thakur looked like an angel with a plate full of Himachali delicacies at that time. I thought that by the time we reached Chandu’s shop, he should have made the arrangements. Needless to say, money was not a big issue here and it was clarified earlier too.

To all my disgust and shock, when I asked Chandu if we are ready for the Himachali treat, he dialed a number and asked,”Aray, aaj ho sakta hain kya?” (Is it possible today?) What the heck? Then what was he doing till this moment? And further opening vent of an inflammable gas, he said “Well, the guy says that you need at least 50 people eating to do cooking” Damn you! So the possibility of Himachali delicacies was written off instantaneously. So yesterday was Rohtang Pass and today was Himachali Cuisine. And it was 1.30 pm and getting back to Manali for food was also not a good idea. Mr. Thakur was generous here. He offered us momos and maggi. We had no choice. Anita entered in the kitchen to have a crash course on preparing momos.

Momos is a staple food in Himachal. The pahadi people are able to digest finely ground wheat flour (maida) preparations on daily basis without any problem. So you get to see momos almost everywhere here being sold like Pani Puri or Chat stalls elsewhere in India. Steamed wheat flour dumplings with assortment of finely grated vegetables inside makes a hearty meal. Most of the labourers working in the apple orchards nearby come to Chandu’s place to have maggi and momos for lunch. We had our momos. Maggi with vegetables plus Chandu Thakur’s secret spices was not something which I liked. It was slightly pungent too. But 40 km away from Manali, on the banks of Beas and without proper studies of available restaurants in Kullu, we ate maggi too. 
   
After finishing our lunch, we were ready for another mission – a trek to Chandu Thakur’s apple orchards situated atop a hill. The trek started just after crossing the highway in front of Chandu’s Tea Shop. It was 3 in the afternoon however the atmosphere was very pleasant. The Sun was struggling to come out of the clouds and remarkable coolness in the air saved us from sweating a lot. This was further accompanied by beautiful wildflowers, greenery, crystal clear water streams and local village women carrying loads of apple in their backpacks. Chandu was giving us information about specific trees and bushes we came across while doing the trek. I will skip the details here. You may contact me separately for the details of bushes and trees. So, out trek lasted for 40-45 minutes till we reached the top of the hill. We were definitely tired but the view from the hilltop was just mind blowing. I just felt like stretching in that 2 foot high grass and taking a short nap. But was not necessary since I was just living my dream. I thought I should rather be capturing these moments in camera than taking nap.



And well, on the other side, there was on apple orchard in full bloom. Apples everywhere! I had written about it earlier too…but this was up, close and personal. We couldn’t contain our excitement and rushed towards apple trees. Anita was very happy to relive her childhood days plucking apples from the trees itself .

This apple mania blowed a big hole in my pocket but that was by the end of our journey in Amritsar, Punjab. I will provide the details in the chapter related to Amritsar only. For the time being, we were just concentrated on plucking as many apples as possible so that we can take them back to home. Sometimes we behave silly..but how many times do you like it? This was one of them. JJJ

So we spent half an hour plucking apples and enjoying the breathtaking beauty of Kullu. I am not surprised that Kullu-Manali has always been the choicest of the destinations for most of the newly married Indian couples for their honeymoon. By the way, now-a-days, the definition is changing. Especially in metros! Some people find India to be too boring to go for honeymoon. And where do they end up..? Ok, I won’t mention this. It will look like a personal scathing attack on all the honeymooners who have actually ENJOYED their stay abroad. But yes, high disposable income means more access and too much crowd. I take this point. I was fortunate enough to be here in low season, but peak season is something you should always keep yourself off from such places. How ironic! Keep off during peak seasons!

Now, we were ready to go back to our base camp. So we started our descent. I had earlier mentioned while describing paragliding at Solang that descent from the hills is a difficult thing than ascending. Chandu is an everyday guy and he had no problems. But the uncontrollable run on the slope was putting lot of pressure on thigh muscles. On the way down, we came across apricot trees, persimmon (the Japanese apple which looks like tomato) trees and a very unique herb which is used to clean teeth just by chewing and not brushing.

So finally we reached our destination- again Chandu’s famous restaurant cum shop. We got a much deserved cup of refreshingly hot tea. It is heaven! We were slightly nervous also as it was our last day in Manali and next day morning, we would be starting our journey to Dharamshala and McLeod Ganj. But we decided to live the moment. Shimla was just a start and I had fallen in love with Kullu and Manali. I was serious enough to inquire about the purchase price of an apple orchard and possibly a bungalow in Kullu. I was also in touch with Chandu for quite some time after returning from HP to understand the possible acquisition targets (back to work effect!) But I didn’t pursue it for too long as it was looking unviable to me to maintain it from Mumbai. I must move to HP at some stage of life (that’s a great idea!)

We drove back to Manali. We thought of visiting Mall Road again that evening. But we were too tired. Hence, we gave up and instead preferred to watch television in our cosy room. Most of the visitors in River Country Inn had left by that day and frankly, me and Anita were the only people partaking food in the restaurant. We had to get up early in the morning as this was supposed to be another long day extended by a possible detour to Jwala Ji Temple. We had no option but to go to bed early while listening to Beas flowing alongside. 

Fantasies of Freedom

As a human being, we tend to possess some fundamental qualities which are in sync with the animal kingdom itself. There is hunger, there is thirst, there is curiosity, there is fear, there is defense. As a human being grows, the form of the qualities changes. Hunger for food turns into a hunger for money when you grow up, thirst for the water flowing from the tap turns into a thirst for power and position in the complex society (ok! thirst for knowledge is also considered but that is not bound by the phase of life), curiosity regarding blooming of the flower is taken over by the curiosity over what other people think about us (especially of the opposite sex!), fear of not completing the homework is replaced by fear of the consequences.

I feel that all these emotions are inter-related and very basic to any animal. But what makes me wonder is that these emotions are fundamentally functions of the very basic nature of any mind (not necessarily just human but the whole animal kingdom) I feel that all these emotions focus on achieving a single target, irrespective of the phase of mind, cultures, religion, country and natural form. The target is - FREEDOM

Freedom has always caught the fancy of a gibberish as well as the most sophisticated mind. Being an Indian, the word freedom was in my face through the details of our history books in school. India’s history is all about fighting for freedom. So has been for the world. The sense of freedom or liberty so subtle in every act that we actually don’t understand that we are doing this or that to achieve some kind of independence or some kind of freedom. The mankind always has had the fantasies of freedom!

We define the sense of freedom in our own way. For a baby*, may be walking on its own legs without a support could give happiness which could be as good as a young woman (let’s be feminist for  a while) getting an appointment letter for her dream job. However, the sense of freedom in such achievements is pretty fragile. Because the individual is not aware about the path which he/she is going to trot in the future. It is just a momentary jubilance of achieving a milestone; but is normally confused with freedom.

(*I won’t talk too much about the baby’s independence after learning to walk; but can’t resist from sharing a wonderful joke making rounds of facebook these days. It depicts a picture where a cat is telling a baby – the baby is yet to learn to stand – that the moment he/she will stand on its two legs, he/she will be dispatched to school. And the baby had a horrific look on its face asking,”Really??” J)

Say, the girl in the above given example may take huge pride in calling herself as an ‘independent’ woman for a while, keeping her head high (Oh yes! That is the way to do it!), the sense mellows down for many people (and women) when the reality sinks in.

Suddenly, one starts feeling the pang for going to work. You find it difficult to get up. Though you drag yourself in front of the mirror in the bathroom, your eyes refuse to open wide. You don’t find the breakfast tasty though prepared with best ingredients. Then the regular dialogues start visiting your vocal chords regularly “Oh, I’m stuck here!” “God, please help me!” God must have shot back,”Oh dear, I thought you were living your dream!”

I guess the problem is our confusion of freedom with living other person’s life. We always tend to get inspired by the people who you may know or you may not. In a way, it is good that your life gets a direction through inspiration. But the problem is destination. We really don’t know what the person is seeking from the life when he/she is doing something which excites and inspires us. In this process, we give up being ourselves and try to adopt a lifestyle which is entirely not ours. We refuse to find our own destination and confuse it with the path of other people, the destination of which is not known to us. We in a way are sacrificing our freedom to lead someone else’s life. That is an initiation of misery and 90% of you must have understood it if you would have shown the patience to go through this torturous text

By any means, I am not saying that the process of understanding self is simple. Our mind is enthralled and captured by so many secondary experiences that it is difficult to come out of that thick burden. Remember Uma Thurman digging out of her way through coffin while being buried in the grave in “KILL BILL”? Life may not be that unkind though and will keep on giving multiple signals to understand who you are. You just have to be either smart or fortunate to capture them. The day we realize our goal is the day you may celebrate the freedom and give up the fantasies…

I want to end this note with a beautiful thought from the film ‘Asoka’(Yes, I watched it!) – It says that the destiny of a traveler is nobler than anybody else, even than the kings and monarchs. You just need to know the destination….

Best of luck for your journey…..

Regards,

Amit

Diary of a Traveller: My Experiences : Himachal Pradesh: Day 4 Manali

Got up early in the morning ..would define that as 8.00 AM in chronological terms. Early because it was Sunday and we were on vacation. The sound of Beas flowing by was very prominent in that hour and just peaked out of window and  what I saw....

Amazing is a puny word….I picked my CyberShot and clicked as many as I can. My better half was still enjoying her good night sleep snuggled in the cozy blanket. I tried to wake her up but it was in vain So I had to order tea on her behalf. I took my own time trying to capture those moments and sounds in my mind than the Sony CyberShot. No wonder, it has been almost 2 years; but I still remember everything very vividly. Anyways CybeShot is a very handy gadget and thanks Sony for inventing it. It helps me recall those moments. J

You must be fed up of reading about my breakfasts, lunches and dinners (as well as occasional snacks!) I give you an option of skipping this part if you are not interested. But I can’t resist myself from writting about food. Read at discretion….In my earlier pages, I have already mentioned that your hunger tends to be at peak in the mountains. Manali is obviously no exception. Must admit that the staff might have described me as a voracious eater. Started humbly with 4 pieces of toasts with butter and jam on it. Meanwhile ordered for a double decker sandwich stuffed with cheese and veggies. How can I forget my favourite chocos in cold milk..had a bowlful! Also gorged on paranthas with curds and pickle. And just to give a perfect finish, I gulped down a mug of coffee to wash everything away. I am sure either your eyes are popping out (if you are not Adam Richman, Rocky Singh or Mayur Sharma or similar) or your gastric juices must be on fire (if you are Adam Richman, Rocky Singh, Mayur Sharma or similar) J

This was a clear bright day. My itinerary told me that we should be visiting Rohtang Pass today. Rohtang Pass (altitude 13,051 ft (3,978 m)) is a high mountain pass on the eastern Pir Panjal Range of the Himalayas some 51 km (32 mi) from Manali. It connects the Kullu Valley with the Lahaul and Spiti Valleys of Himachal Pradesh, India. I was very very excited to visit this place and luck was on my side…it was opened in the month of August.
Alas…Shib Kumar…I will never forgive you for this little act. Anita is not comfortable traveling to heights and Rohtang Pass altitude is just 13,051 feet. Need I say more? There was a strong resistance from Anita for traveling to Rohtang Pass. We were very much heading towards it and meanwhile were arguing about it. Finally, Anita said that she would prefer to stay back at hotel and we should move on. Shib Kumar was in dual mind state. So he said, “That is very exciting..but really dangerous too!” That was it! Those words were the final nail on the coffin for the plan to go to Rohtang Pass. I was hugely disappointed with the U turn we took from that moment. How could this happen man? I was so near yet so far…. :(
My disappointment was very prominent on my face. Anita tried to speak with me but I didn’t utter a single word. I anyways made a promise to myself. I will surely return and will be travelling that time not only to Rohtang but to Lahaul and Spiti and then Ladakh and I’ll drive myself. Anita and Shib Kumar in the meanwhile started some disaster management program. Shib Kumar said that we will visit Solang Valley, an adventure sports destination which would trigger the adrenaline level but not to the extent of Rohtang Pass visit. (Heard that wind blows at Rohtang so fiercely that it shakes your vehicle, anybody confirming..write to amituhiremath@gmail.com )
 So we finally reached this compensation for Rohtang Pass called Solang Valley. I bet it was not certainly as thrilling as Rohtang would have been but let’s keep Rohtang out of discussion now. Manali has been known to be a tourist destination for many years and you need not get surprised at the unintentional congregation of people during any season at various places in Manali. So Solang being easily accessible was thronged with people. I was delighted to see the options I had in adventure sports- Paragliding and Zorbing. I chose paragliding in a matter of miliseconds and that too an extended version from greater heights. Anita was certainly not ready for this adventure and she decided to stay back at the landing ground to watch me whirling.
My instructor asked me to buy tickets for the gondola ride we had to take to reach the top of the hill. I was really excited about this. The instructor told me that the Solang Valley is covered in thick snow during winters. How amazing! My jealousy for the people residing in Himachal was achieving new heights every day or rather every hour as we were exploring new places. This was my first gondola ride in life (poor soul…you waited for 29 years for a puny thing like this?...I guess some reactions…J) Truly, as our gondola kept on scaling new heights, there was a gradual disconnection from all the crowd (except Anita) as it went out of sight and all that around me was lush greenery and wild flowers and the earthy smell.


After we reached our destination at hilltop, we got off the gondola and started walking towards our take off point for glider. I always sensed that walking down on a tricky path is certainly a difficult task compared to climbing up on the same trail. It puts lot of pressure on the thigh muscles and tests your body balancing. After a five minute tricky walk through the wildflower trails, we reached the take off point. I also had few European counterparts (all girls J) with me for the same mission.
After fitting all safety belts properly around my body from the glider which was laid on the ground, I was the first person facing the valley where the runway ended. My istructor told me to run towards valley without stopping at all so that we can lift the glider in a proper manner. That was an amazing run towards the valley and whoa…as soon as our runway ended, I was gliding in the air, I could see the beautiful landscape and the dangling pair of Woodland shoes. I simply regretted not carrying my camera with me. I could have had few breathtaking pics as well as videos to add to my library. Can’t put them in words, sorry! I was incessantly shouting for first few moments with all joy bursting from my belly. It was a wonderful experience. After gliding for a while we started descending towards the plains.
I must tell you why Anita is a great companion. While I was regretting up in the air for not carrying a camera, Anita at the base level had arranged for a cameraman who was shooting my flight on a camera as well as taking pics. Slowly, we started drifting towards plain and my instructor asked me to keep my legs parallel to surface while we landed. I was happy to know that all that hard work has paid off. We collected our DVDs and headed for the kiosk selling tea. I am not an avid tea drinker but the lovely atmosphere makes you keep on sipping tea whenever possible.
We somehow started a boring ordeal of visiting different temples. The one which distinctly stood different from other temples was the Hidimba Devi Temple. Some people call it as Hadimba Devi Temple. Completely surrounded by Deodar forest this could probably be one of the most scenic holy place I have ever seen. The mythological reference says that Hidimba, wife of Bhima who was originally a rakshasi (demon) attained status of goddess by doing tapasya. Himachali Kings had a very high regard for this goddess and worshipped her religiously. No wonder why! I would have loved to come again and again to this place even if the reason would have been pure worship. When we reached the temple in the afternoon, a Yagya was going on and many locals had gathered over there wearing traditional Himachali attire. (Do I always need to confirm that it was a wonderful scene whenever I describe something in great details?) We also entered into the sanctum sanctorum of the temple even in that bustle and had a better look at the deity.
Contrary to many temples in South India, North Indian (here read as Himachali) temples look pretty liberal as far as the entry of women in sanctum sanctorum of a temple is concerned. I will refer this in description of Jwalamukhi Temple also which we visited later while going towards Dharamsala.
Honestly, I didn’t want to leave that place (and this is the case with almost every place in Himachal) but we had other temples on our agenda. We had to visit the famous Vasisht temple. It is known for its hot water springs. Himalaya has always been a land of sages from historic time and it is obvious to find temples dedicated to these sages in HP. We parked our car at a distance from the temple and walked towards it. We were again confronted by the sellers of famous Chingu (remember the seller at Kufri Fun World?). We politely told them that we are not interested but at every other 10 feet another seller of Chingu was appearing. They are not intimidating though. There is no choice for them. They don’t get a fixed monthly salary and had to be in the business every day especially when the tourist traffic is down in the monsoon.
 As we were about to enter the temple, we saw this extremely luscious rabbit known as Angora Rabbit. Kullu has a breeding centre for these Angora Rabbits which are known for the soft wool.          
Okay…so when we finally entered the Vasisht temple to have a look at those famous hot water springs, we found that the time was over and doors of the temple were closed. Anita was slightly disappointed. We were supposed to wait for another one hour to see the door opening. It was not a good trade off for the limited time we had at our hands (and the energy too since we were wandering since morning and it was 2.30 pm dragging without lunch). We started our vehicle and headed for the most boring place I have come across during this trip – The Club House, Manali.
Club House is a very generic property accommodating few restaurants, shops selling different stuffs, few unnerving rides and tiny adventure experiences on Beas. We completed our stroll across the Club House in exact 15 minutes including few clicks on the bank of Beas. We thought of eating something but thought that River Country (the place where we were residing) should offer us better bet. By 3.45 pm, we reached River Country. It was too late to have lunch (by our standards as well as restaurant’s standards…not to forget the exception…Sher-E-Punjab at Kufri …lunch at 4.30) We decided to satiate our little left hunger by the double decker cheese sandwich J and slept for an hour…ahh what a life!
We probably got up when it was 6 in the evening. The darkness was descending on the Beas river which could be seen from the window and air was getting cold. We decided to go to the Mall Road, the main shopping arena of Manali and spend some time over there. We came downstairs and decided to have a cup of Cappuccino in the lawns of River Country. Umm..well.. it didn’t turn out to be a good decision for the following reasons…

1.      Cappuccino is not something unique to Manali

2.      We had to wait for unexplainable 30 minutes before we could sip it

3.      Sitting in the lawn turned out be a bad idea as mosquitoes and other bugs were on prowl

4.      The coffee didn’t taste that great.. I mean worth waiting 30 minutes.

5.      The quantity was slightly more than what we required

After we had finished our coffee, we started looking for Shib Kumar. Shib Kumar had actually forgotten his mobile at the restaurant in Mandi so I asked the security guard of the hotel to look for him. The guard came back telling us that he is inebriated and may not be able to come. Even Shib Kumar himself came out and asked us to take a rickshaw as the Mall Road was nearby. He had guzzled few mugs of beer I believe. So we told him to continue to enjoy and relax and proceeded towards Mall Road.
 Mall Road is a buzzing place as it is with many North Indian Hill Stations with the central road normally being christened as Mall Road. Not much to describe here. There are many shops selling food stuff, clothes, trek gears (sob..Rohtang!!!), souvenirs, artifacts etc etc. We entered into a shop selling Tibetan stuff. They were nice but somehow, me and Anita just didn’t feel the urge to buy something over there.
Finding no scope the exploit the potential of the surroundings and atmosphere, we decided to head back to our hotel. As we were going towards Rickshaw stand, Anita heard somebody calling her in Kashmiri, “Walyu Mahaara, chai chyevu!” It was Hilaal, a Kashmiri guy owning a shop selling Kashmiri clothes on that bustling Mall Road. He had recognized Anita from her dyej hur, a Kashmiri answer to Mangal Sutra for Rest of India. We couldn’t have said no to such invitation. We followed Hilaal in his shop in the basement. He didn’t expect us to buy anything from him but honestly wanted us to have tea or coffee (it was our choice J) We almost spent an hour chatting with him. And well…I also got a nice leather jacket I was looking for since I had entered Himachal. It was late (by Manali’s standards and not by Mumbai’s). We said “Khuda Haafiz” to Hilaal and promised to visit him whenever we will be coming to Manali. Sometimes I really keep on wondering…God gives us so many reasons to come to the heaven and make our life blissful and we poor mortals always decide to rot in hell!
As I mentioned, it was late and the roads were empty. We came back, had our dinner and went to sleep. We were blessed to spend another whole day in Manali or rather Kullu next day!