TRAVEL STORIES
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Travel Stories Volume 1 | Issue 7 | February
CONTENTS GOA VACATION WITH FAMILY...................PAGE 1 SURELY A MEMORABLE RIDE....................PAGE 3 FROM THE PLANE'S WINDOW....................PAGE 7 SLICE OF HEAVEN......................................PAGE 8 TRAVEL.....................................................PAGE 10 TRIP TO THE ENCHANTED LAND..............PAGE 11 THE JOURNEY...........................................PAGE 12 ROARING WAVES ARE CALLING ME........PAGE 13 STAY IN NATURE.....................................PAGE 14 FERNWEH.................................................PAGE 15 LIMESTONE CAVES..................................PAGE 16 LIFE AND TRAVELS...................................PAGE 17
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CITYLIGHT. ARGH!...................................PAGE 19 ON THE WAY............................................PAGE 21 SPITI – AN ABODE...................................PAGE 22 MOUNTAIN, DOG....................................PAGE 24 STILL I RISE...........................................PAGE 25 TRAVELLING THROUGH THE MIDST.....PAGE 26 TO TRAVEL.............................................PAGE 27 PIECES OF HERSELF..............................PAGE 28 A SINGLE GIRL IN JAIPUR.....................PAGE 29 THE JOURNEY.........................................PAGE 31
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Travel Stories Volume 1 | Issue 6 | January
PREFACE
Each one of us is a traveler with a thousand of stories buried in our hearts. Ink Drift is an attempt to bring those stories out, in the form of literature. The word inside this magazines are treasures which are made available by various writers to all of the readers. We would like to extend our heartfelt thanks to all the contributors.
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GOA VACATION WITH FAMILY A WONDROUS EXPERIENCE BYÂ JAIDEEP KHANDUJA
Traveler is my other name. And yet I stay like a local wherever I go. By the same token, I prefer to visit local markets and places rather than sightseeing. On the other hand, I never compromise missing sight seeing too. After all, traveling is my destiny. In my job, I had a lot of travel. Firstly it was domestic. Afterward, I had many overseas assignments. Nonetheless, work pressure could never suppress a genuine traveler within me. I will share my Goa Vacation later in this post. Even I visited more places during my work assignments overseas. At the same time, I never missed an opportunity to go for a family vacation during all this. Whenever I had a chance to take my wife along on my overseas assignments, I grabbed it with both hands. Yet the traveler in me never warned me to hold on. On the contrary, it always asks for more. Here, I must admit, I have been to same places again. However, I enjoy it more every time. Every place is a learning. Specifically, every travel has been a great learning for me. Similarly every time it is a new experience. In fact, there is no dearth of experience or learning at any place you visit. In other words, I could never confirm that I don't want to go to a place anymore. Nor can I claim that there is nothing more at that place to visit. Wherever I have been, I ensure to absorb its beauty in my heart and mind completely. In the second place, I love to explore new places with the same vigor and intensity. I still remember when for the first time I was traveling to Europe. I was going to France. It was my first official assignment. When my travel desk handed over Air France Airlines ticket to me, I was quite excited. While that was my first visit to France, I have been to Goa many times. After all, Goa is among the most popular destinations in India. Not only for domestic people but for foreigners too. PAGE NO.1
Last month only we planned to go for a vacation to Goa. And this time we were in the different mood. As a matter of fact, we had a plan to stay at four different places for 4 days each. In addition, we were going to South Goa this time. Away from the crowd. Plans were to be with nature, talk to nature, listen to nature. As a matter of fact, the owner of all these four properties is same. Although each property has a different proposition, but he is on the board of all the four. And the offer was to visit each property, stay there, taste it completely, and enjoy. In addition, my task was to create some awareness on social networks and share my experience. I would never miss this kind of opportunity. I took no time to book return tickets for the family. Indigo Airlines being my favorite, I never look around for any deals. It was almost 20 days stay there. Immediately we did our packing. In the meantime, I informed our coordinator to make arrangements for the first location. The first location was right on Sernabatim beach. It is a health resort. Detox diet, yoga, and stay right on the beach was a fabulous experience. Next stay was at a four-star property adjacent to this place. Again, it was also near to the beach. This was an entirely different kind of experience. While earlier one was a kind of European stay, this was totally an Indian stay. Earlier was a life of complete discipline. Opposite to that, this was a total luxury stay. Enjoyment of these four days was totally different to the previous one. But at this juncture, we were not sure what is in store for next half of the stay. We were not knowing that for rest of the period we will be far away from the beaches. Also, we didn't know that we will be staying right in the reserved forests. By all means, this was a complete travel for me. It was more satisfying than before. In fact, this was the tour in which we experienced all colors of nature to its full extent. We stayed on the beach. Also, We had a visit to rivers. We visited churches and temples. And we stayed in forests. We also went to the hills. I never knew this side of the Goa is so fascinating and fulfilling. This was a wondrous Goa Vacation with family this June. PAGE NO.2
SURELY A MEMORABLE RIDE BY HANADI FALKI
Have you ever been in a situation when you are so badly screwed that there is nothing left for you to do but laugh? The kind of laughter that’s a combination of nervousness at what’s about to happen next, terror for the safety of your life, helplessness at your inability to do anything about it and finally acceptance of God’s weird sense of humor. Well, I did laugh my way out of a similarly intense situation the other day. You see, not only do I not know how to drive, I am also a pathetic co-passenger when it comes to helping out the driver with directions. But I can surely be counted upon for making all kinds of terrifying noises at even the tiniest provocation, the noises that can shake the confidence of even the most experienced driver. As luck would have had it, I ended up in the passenger seat with a friend of mine who had taken the plunge into the big bad world of driving a car in India three months back. We met after a long time and I was clueless of her driving skills when she arrived to pick me up in her shiny Santro in Delhi. The dents on the side of the car could have given me a heads up but then, I always knew driving in my homeland was a challenge in itself. Anyway, after exchanging pleasantries we started our journey towards Greater Noida, that’s about 45 minutes away from where she picked me up in Delhi. I know this because I heard the GPS on her mobile inform her that. As she was about to start the car, she closed her eyes for a brief second and said a silent prayer. Since she is religiously inclined, I was quite impressed by her dedication towards prayers. Little did I know that those prayers combined with my frantic ones would be saving my life a short while later. So off we went, exchanging the latest updates about our lives when the GPS informed her that we were required to take the next left turn. Now we were on the extreme right of the busy road and my friend started to steer the car across in a rather sharp turn without paying any heed to the cars behind us. In India, this can be chalked off as the skills of a confident driver who thinks that the traffic will give way to us first. So even though I could see the oncoming cars halting quite close to my side, along with honks and screeches, I gave her the benefit of doubt and fell silent so that she could concentrate on driving.
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After the turn, she insisted that I continue our conversation. As I was about to open my mouth, to my growing horror, she skipped a red signal and slowed down right at mid of the crossing, murmuring, “I think I was supposed to stop at that signal.” With widened eyes, I exclaimed, “You think?!” As the other traffic signal turned green, I screamed, “Go, go, go, before the oncoming traffic bangs into us.” I got my breath back when we finally picked up speed and got back on track. Finding my voice, I asked, “What happened back there? What if the policeman spotted us casually halting in the middle of the junction?” Laughing, she continued driving and informed me that out of the mandatory 14 driving lessons that she signed up for, she had completed just 4. “I took the car out after my fourth lesson and am learning through experience now.” This information hadn’t even sunk in when she left the steering wheel of the moving car to adjust the mobile on the holder in front of her. Reminding her of the necessity to keep her hand on the steering wheel, I exclaimed, “You have got to be kidding me!” “Nopes, it’s the truth. Apart from a couple of days back when I bumped into an auto, I have been reaching home safely every day.” “Oh really, just a single accident in 3 months. Now that’s such a huge consolation,” I remarked as I wondered what God had in store for us that night. As she kept missing one turn after the another, it took us more than an hour and lots of u-turns to reach midway of our destination. And each u-turn was a challenge in itself as the traffic on both sides of the road came to a halt and let the lady take the turn safely. They were either very courteous or truly scared of the novice female driver. They preferred to wait for 5 mins rather than risk being close to the struggling white Santro. On my part, I did the best I could to guide her. For once, I felt that I knew more about the traffic rules than the driver! “Oh shoot! The battery died down!” she exclaimed as the mobile screen went blank. Before she could start fidgeting with the gadget in the middle of the moving traffic, I asked her to stop at the side and turn on the hazard lights at least. It was getting dark and people wouldn’t be so forgiving when they were rushing to get home after a long day at work. The car charger was broken and as a cherry on the cake, my mobile network had no signals.
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“We better restore to the old methods then,” she said as she started the car again. Before I could ask what she meant, my heart jumped to my throat when the car screeched to a halt near a man riding a bicycle. The terrified man mumbled some directions in reply to my friend’s questions. The people in the passing cars shot angry looks at us for stopping right in the middle of the road once again. Believe me when I say it is really difficult for a tall person like me to sink any lower in my car seat than I already was. So off we went with a new set of directions. I tried reading the signboards to get some sense of where we were. We went about asking random strangers for guidance for about an hour, taking turns and U-turns and ending up on the same road time and again. It was midnight and I was finding it hard to keep my eyes open. Perhaps it was the late hour, or the exhaustion from the jolts of adrenaline all evening, that I no longer cared where I was headed or whether I would even reach there alive. Suddenly my friend exclaimed, “This is it! That turn right there! I know the way from here.” It was an old dusty road with creepy trees on either side, swaying in the wind. As the car progressed along the path, leaving a trail of dust behind, the spotlights fell on a man standing in the middle of the road. The scene in front of us sent a chill down my spine. All I could think of was to pedal the car to full speed and get past that strange man. To my horror, my friend brought the car to a stop and rolled down her window. Before I could say anything, the man approached us and said, “Could I please get a lift, ladies? Just drop me off at the bus stand ahead.” “Oh sure, why not?” my friend replied and turned around to unlock the door behind us. “Are you crazy? We can’t pick up a stranger at such an ungodly hour,” I whispered in her ears before she could go ahead with her generous offer. Sense dawned upon her and she asked me in a hushed tone, “What do I do now?” “Just rush ahead and don’t look back,” I advised. Our eyes widened when we heard the man fumbling with the door handle. It took us just a few seconds to disappear from the scene, leaving the man running after us, his shouts echoing through the silent night. “That was a close call,” my friend said when we finally saw the streetlights ahead. “There, that’s my apartment, right there.” I still don’t remember how I got out of the car, went up the staircase, into her empty flat and crashed on the double bed in her room. The rest of the night was a blur when I woke up the next morning. Apart from a slight strain in my neck, I felt refreshed. “Here you go,” my friend said as she handed me a steaming mug of coffee and tossed the newspaper on my bed. I smiled at her and accepted the mug. Taking a sip of the soothing beverage, I turned over the newspaper. The headline caught my eye. Events of last night came rushing back in my mind, making my heart skip a beat as I reread the words.
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A man robbed, a woman raped in Greater Noida while giving lift to a stranger last night. I sat holding the mug in my hand and stared at the article. We were on that exact road last night, and had stopped to help that stranger! I looked up at my friend, who, oblivious of the situation, smiled at me and said, “You know what, I had so much fun yesterday.” “Fun?!” I fixed her with an incredulous stare, and she winked at me and added, “I was thinking of going on a road trip together. What do you say? You in?”
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FROM THE PLANE'S WINDOW BYÂ KUMAR ADITYA
It was just me and that magic below Amidst the stirring of that giant bird, we call a plane Through the clouds, under the sun that rules up there Away from the darkness of life, I flew... Flying was a dream that would come & go Down the streams of memories, into the sea of imagination, it flowed Crimson capes and magic carpets were what I wanted With the vast cerulean skies was my soul besotted And on that day, those dreams got wings Into the shining horizon, I flew... I flew, in the realm of those fluffy, wispy-white strangers Where the land and sky embrace and come together Where the sun and the moon are lovers torn apart Above those hazy mists, I flew... Rivers that meandered, like burgeoning roots Covering the empty lands, seemingly devoid of man and his loots Hills unnamed and floating earth The sky was mine then, I was born anew... Above the darkening skies, I flew... Above the million lights that winked like the stars, I flew...
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SLICE OF HEAVEN BY HUSAIN ROKADIA
To the rest of world, Yemen seems a rather rural, backward & disturbed region and to imagine a quaint, serene & simply beautiful place within it seems a little far-fetched. Yet, sits above the world atop Hisne Hutaib (Mountain of Hutaib) is the village ‘Al Hutaib al Mubarak’ located in the Haraz region, Yemen. The village of Al Hutaib adorns the Hisne Hutaib (Mountain of Hutaib), at a height of above hundreds of feet above the sea level. With almost barren land all around Hisne Hutaib, ‘Al Hutaib al Mubarak’ is a flourishing and green village, visited my people from all around the globe for being a very important sacred destination. ‘Al Hutaib al Mubarak’ houses the beautiful white mausoleum, the final resting place, of the 3rd ‘Dai al mutlaq’ (Spiritual Head), in the long line of Dai al Mutlaqs, of the Dawoodi Bohra community, Syedna Hatim. The Mausoleum, made of complete white marble, is a jewel in the land of Yemen with members of the Dawoodi Bohra Community flocking to his grave to beseech blessings similar to that made ‘Al Hutaib al Mubarak’ green and flourishing among barren lands. The Mausoleum, on the inside, has verses of the Quran inscribed in golden letters and precious stones. In the center is the Grave of Syedna Hatim, covered with rich fabric and visitors engrossed in prayers around. The 51st & 52nd Spiritual Leaders made it their goal to bring back the lost glory of Al Hutaib and the reverence of the grave of Syedna Hatim. They dedicated their time and resources to attain this and after years of difficult efforts, Al Hutaib al Mubarak stands green and serene, even today whilst Yemen is in turmoil. At the peak of Hisne Hutaib is the Masjid of Syedna Hatim, which being over 500 years old, stands anew and ever so lively. The Masjid to this day has is original structure and its wooden ceiling intact. The simple beauty and age PAGE NO.8
of the Masjid makes it the Pearl augmenting the beauty of Hisne Hutaib. Another jewel atop Hisne Hutaib is the ‘Masjid al-Mansoor al Yemen’, this masjid was recently constructed and inaugurated by the 53rd Dai al Mutlaq (Spiritual Head) to facilitate smooth functioning of events in Al Hutaib al Mubarak for the visitors. Al Hutaib, as it stands today is because of the efforts taken by the Leaders of the Community and the residents of Hutaib and surrounding areas that this Holy site is restored to its former glory after years of exploitation and attacks. Al Hutaib al Mubarak is a slice of heaven with its beauty beyond imagination and its importance and history beyond words. After years of ill treatment and oppression, Al Hutaib stands undaunted & fearless. May we all once in our lives travel to Al Hutaib to be a witness to its grandeur, magnificence & virtue. From the bottom of my heart I wish for peace for the land of Yemen and an end to its civil and foreign turmoil. Thank you for reading.
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TRAVEL
BYÂ SHEETAL BHARDWAJ
Travel makes us unravel the unknown, Deep desire which burns in us like fire, A reason to explore every unseen shore, Where the excitement is more, where there is unending roar Of happiness around, where nature surrounds, Where no one is there to share and to care. The feeling we get while traveling is set, To make us happier while we are happy, Soaking in the fun which makes our adrenaline run. Travel is must as it makes life fair and just, It takes us away from the monotony of life, And sets us at peace from the never-ending strife
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TRIP TO THE ENCHANTED LAND BYÂ Q THEWRITER
I woke up to the cold feeling of water on my face, gently waking me I looked around and there was nobody there besides me I realized that I lay on a bed of plush green grass covered with dew Sights as beautiful as this, there were in this world but a few I lay facing the early morning sky; crimson and blue were hooking up I stood up to see a valley full of flowers, things were looking up There was a rustle in the bushes, a couple of rabbits ran out I stretched and yawned, the sun was now completely out I tried to recollect, having no memory of how I got here Somehow being in touch with nature I had no reason to fear I noticed that birds had been chirping all along, a new kind of music Coupled with the scenery, this was indeed an astounding piece of magic So many days I had lived in a concrete jungle, I had lost my eyesight Only to have it given back to me to view such a marvelous sight I heard the gushing of water and walked towards the sound to see A marvelous spectacle nature had offered exclusively for me A waterfall poured steadily, a healthy flow of milk it seemed The water I tasted was better than anything I had ever dreamed The water flowed losing color and taking a course of a stream I woke up, looked around and cursed that it was all a dream PAGE NO.11
THE JOURNEY
BY BIPUL BANERJEE
The Journey, The 'dusk' has witnessed seasons all, Tough journeys on soft roads. Twists and Turns unexpectedly swirled, Morning dew to ringlets of sweat. Blooming gardens to sheets of autumn, Hopes flowered and despairs shed. Adrenaline rushes calmed by certitude, Chaotic companies bled to Solitude. Masks mitigated by naked truths, Joys of labor bearing fruits. Bound together, Mingled as ONE, Enduring naturally all that hurled. We have clung to US on the roller coaster of emotional fuel, The journey has been nothing less than a duel .
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ROARING WAVES ARE CALLING ME BYÂ ANUPREETA CHATTERJEE
I am willing to travel to Puducherry to hear the roaring waves fighting with the dark hills to move on and live a life of a warrior. The roaring waves are calling me And I am willing to listen to the life lesson Which these waves are going to teach me. When I will sit nearby the shore They will ask me to join the rhythm. The blue ocean will teach me To dance with elegance and Add in my life a new rhythm. Nature is a healer And these waves will rejuvenate my energy To be the best defender. Oppression is not my choice And these waves will make me fight. I am a dealer of melody I know life is not as sweet as candy. These waves will teach me the warrior's song And will write with me various other memorable songs. PAGE NO.13
STAY IN NATURE BY PRANASHREE KUNDU
Stay in Nature. Green trees like green gem of Nature Whisper, for you, good wishes and pleasures That you must take. A green hopes emblem our land when green leaves, they shake. Mild, meek, sensuousness Under the green plot Through vein and sense Of us Blow with a lot. Build a great friendship with nature What the love for other You can know. Pity upon creature You can show If you drink liquid of panoramic beauties of it. Please dream for it.
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The real love upon your chest For the birds and for wild beast You can understand And For, them, love of you, can make So, believe in nature Fever of unintelligible world never shakes. The soul of foul Does not curl Sense and soul.
FERNWEH BY SEBIN JAMES
'The thirteenth hour of the day', perspires says the time. The scorching sun at its peak and perspire in its heat. Yet I choose to run along to the mountains, seeking redemption from the thirteenth of a December. My backpack holds bundles of paper written knots once in pitch-black shades. I will unknot once I reach the top of mountains. Let the wind take it from there in demons dodirections of its own whim. For the worlddemons do not deserve our story. But these mountains do not hold forth fakery and prejudice
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nor hold in discontent and pain. They echo the truth, they echo our names. We have found, to whom our story must be told, Once and for all.
LIMESTONEÂ CAVES BY AKSHAYA PAWASKAR
We blustered into the puddled mouth As Phagosomes enter the cell, pregnant The cell was claustrophobic wetland Dripping future stalactites. The guide was jogging our geography From an old ninth grade book, moldy Perhaps, but our sweaty faces paid Attention more than We ever paid in school and nodded Our head from time to time exclaiming At the sculptures, he conjured out of its Walls, our biased thirsty minds. We had planted a hemisphere of brain In our pocket and other in heart, lest it Gets heavy after all we were just giddy Tourists having a good time. The pillars formed by consummation Of the dripping and seeping carbonates, And the holistic structures gravity less were nice to lean on. But he forbade as he was ordered to and We moved our faces to look at the shaft Of light permeating from top and found
Our footing in darkness. Our encyclopedias overflowed with Greek Etymology of stalaknos and stalagmos We were blind to the Cyanobacteria, blue green algae crawling all over for ages but our dolomitic microscopic progenitors didn’t seem to mind. They were too busy leaving their mark and Caving us in our Graves.
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LIFE AND TRAVELS BY PRASHANT NAUTIYAL
"Shit! Curse the rain, we were supposed to reach the town by today, and we are still miles away just because of the stupid water logging down the street", Kabir said in frustration. Omar patted on his back and said smiling, "Don't worry so much my friend, try to enjoy these ups and down during the travel. After all, these will be there in your memories for a very long time". Lifting Omar's hand from his back Kabir retaliated, "You say the same lines always no matter what the problems. Last time when we were traveling upstate, you said the same thing about the landslides and you said the same thing when I was having a hard time sorting my life. How can this be appropriate for both life and journey that we should be enjoying all the ups and down that come towards us?" Omar, who was used to this kind of behavior of Kabir smiled and said: "because of life and journeys, they are not polar opposites in nature my friend". Kabir sat down in bafflement and staring up at Omar, "Oh noble saint, please enlighten me with the immense knowledge you have on this topic". Omar understood the sarcasm in Kabir's tone and sitting beside him he asked, "Tell me, my friend, what is the ultimate goal of a journey or travel?" "Reaching the destination", Kabir said with confidence. "And what about life, what is the ultimate goal of life?" Omar asked looking at Kabir. "Death, of course, that's the end of life and the ultimate goal". Smiling on his friend's innocence, Omar started explaining to him the essence of life and travel, his eyes were sparkling like clear water, his voice had the depth as that of a noble saint and he was speaking as if he was some enlightened priest. "No my friend, the main goal of traveling is to gather memories, to cherish the experiences throughout the journey. The destination is the end of traveling, beyond that, the traveler has no excitement or meaning left to achieve, but journey gives us the real meaning of our travel. It shows us the value of our destination, the cost of our choices and the meaning of our quest. Destination shows us what one has achieved but if we want to know the struggle behind the achievements, we would have to look at the journey." Kabir was listening to Omar as he spoke and he was trying to memorize all the cities he had visited with him, all he could remember were the things they did during the travels, none of the memories PAGE NO.17
were from the places where they reached. Omar continued to speak, as he knew Kabir was now starting to understand him. "Same goes for life. We die, that is true. It is the ultimate end, that is also true, but our ultimate aim is to learn, experience and explore throughout our lives. We need to be alive until the moment we die. People do not remember names, they remember the legacies. Legacies that we leave behind after we die." Saying this he quoted one of the wise men back at their hometown, "We get so busy with our life that we forget to live". With this Omar said good night to Kabir and went to sleep, but Kabir knew that the next morning won't be the same as the others because tomorrow morning, he will be enjoying his journey and cherishing the experiences of his life along with those of his travels.Â
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CITYLIGHT. ARGH! BY ISHA BAHUGUNA
When the light goes dim, the mayhem in her head starts, implanting the thrash over n over again. I guess you act prudently when I ain't around. Lucas gnarls while driving along the snow-packed mountains, away from the sour world. Well, f**k off. Don't. Just don't judge. Alright? I'm this shallow dark who will suffer no matter how n where the light you carry surrounds. The winds, hopeless romantic, churned the smoke Francis bubbled in anguish. Why do you think likewise? Lucas could figure out d trance she hated since it was not Cobain. Her midnight craved Gotham and punk side by side. Lethal n raw like always. Sneak into her eyes, holy god, they'd kill you soothingly, albeit, she would plead guilty. Keeping thoughts apart, Lucas continued but. ...in this rush of city light what do you see except dark? Francis pecked his lips under pale crescent, refilled their cans n said **Naive** I see naive n stagnant stories tangled up with lies and chucks. Perhaps the truth half of us hide for d sake of being great mother cunt social. Geez. I can't breathe this air. Her wrong end of cigarette sigh! **Fake**Unlike chuck, I hate it to the core. See my mixed martini can is soberer than this plethora of fake shit. Lucas smiles. Don't drag me into amusements which aren't mine. Francis' nerves turned a little more notorious. Reaching isolated den, she whispered... I'm extreme darling. I release toxic for the dirty game humanity plays around. **Sick** Yes sick. This place, like a damaged evening, has robbed my soulless light. Ah. Hate me, Lucas. All you see in me is filthy n impure dirt of cities I only survive, not live. Somehow am I falling for the spring in the winter morning n yearning for ecstasy delicately like our favorite wine?? This place is magic n misery at the same time. Strange isn't it? PAGE NO.19
Stop Lil'p*ssy! Jesus no atheist but you, dark cloud mary, hold me in thy sky for a little more than forever. I'm your kind of dirty! Alright. Their journey settled with words, again. This time in a den where woods smelled woods n they, each other. "days when you settle n save your demon by rolling life like joints, releasing maligned reckless realities"
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ON THE WAY BYÂ KUSHANK RAJ
When I was on my way, Saw a precious place to stay, A temple where I can pray, And God can make my day, When I was walking on my way, Saw a rock that let me stay, As it had feedings for birds giving pay, And God has made my day, When stopped upright in dark, Finding the shadows of drops in eye spark, Then comes the moon with a ray, Enlightened Hope again made my day.......
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SPITI – AN ABODE OF GODS, AS THIS IS NO PLACE FOR MEN! BY HARSH K. GARG
A place with literally no roads, no internet, no network and more or less zilch connection to the outside world – want to go there for a holiday? Well, at first you might think -probably not! Mainly because these elements are the prerequisites that sway our routine. And in pursuit of these little Human defined necessities, we often ignore what magic this mother earth has concealed in its hat for us. It takes either of the following two emotions to even dare to think of such a trip - Madness or surprise. You either go there because you are insane enough to or because you don’t know what you are going to encounter and you let it hit you by surprise. Mine honestly, was the second one. We started from Manali and once we continued ascending uphill towards Spiti, very early we realized that this place is not “just another get-away”. By the time we reached Rohtang pass, I already started experiencing Goosebumps by the scenery thrown in front of me. It was as if God took his own time to design each valley, every mountain, every inch of this allurement - Unparalleled landscapes and his architecture, at its supreme best. Seemed like a beautiful dream about living in such a place is portrayed in a large canvas and is placed in front of me to irk me as a realization of what I have been actually missing all my life. Gradually, not very far from Rohtang pass, human intrusion comes to an end and you are left to witness the most artistic gift God to offer. You certainly will have moments when everything else in this world will become unequivocally irrelevant and worthless as compared to what you are experiencing. I too had a small fraction of the time as my first ever encounter with a naked sky full of shooting stars and galaxies swirling and taking pride in their beauty. Mouth wanted to say something but every time it opened, mind failed to find the correct fit of words to explain what seemed to be unthinkably beguiling for the eyes. Describing it in sentences would have demeaned the very beauty of that moment as no plausible combination of words in any language of this world could even closely justify the breathtaking view which even God watches from afar taking the utmost pride in his creation. PAGE NO.22
Spiti-in nutshell is the land where you stop breathing and start living and for a time, come closer to life. Maybe because it is still too far from the nasty so called "Realistic World" we live in or maybe because it is still untouched by human desideratum of Urbanization or Globalization and is still in its purest, most beautiful forms. Whatever maybe the case, i hope it remains as it is till the moment mankind breathes because it is amongst one of those rarest places on the globe which makes you want to actually live again. I never thought I would find my world so far and detached from the one I am bound to breathe in. I certainly forgot a small part of me in those valleys. A part which is still wandering somewhere in those mountains with his mouth wide open in awestruck and eyes denying to even blink in a dread that they might miss a small fraction of the inconceivable magic they were witnessing. Every soul, every mile their whispers a story worth cherishing. A story which fills all the voids inside you and makes you whole!
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MOUNTAIN, DOG BY SUDEEP PAGEDAR
It took two dogs, thick-haired, soft-moving, cavorting in moonlit darkness, to make me feel truly alone. Goodbye’d by vacation-old companions, I walked up steep tar, looked to the winding nerves that dutifully pumped spent life, down, below, to the valley. I looked for the dual-light signature: that telltale rumbling of ever-growing distance growing ever more distant. I heard nothing, no noises, not even silence; the voices inside, kept to staccato notes and even they, winding down, faded away.
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As I continued up toward the pass that I'd failed, a compelling chill snaked its way through the street and in the heat of that moment, I drew my jacket about my cold, fevered being. The dogs, thick-haired, soft-moving, ceased to cavort, sniffed once, and silently passed me by.
STILL I RISE
BY SHIVIKA KATYAL
Fights and fears for eighteen years, But maybe I'm not so insane. Every academic session I cure past my mistakes, With each blown out a candle flame. My skin has screamed through stitches seemed, But I woke up today; still alive. I can hold on for longer; maybe now I'll be stronger, For the next three hundred sixty-five.
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TRAVELLING THROUGH THE MIDST OF THE OCEAN BY URVI SHAH As I gazed out at the sea on the deck, I realized that it looked like a slumbering giant, minimizing its power locked and untapped, muscles unflexed. The sea resembled a fringe of lace as I looked out into the distance from our ship. Waves crashed into jagged rocks roughly, their foam forming a white ribbon on the undisturbed surface of blue. Gentle waves rolled out towards the humongous ship, stretching out on their belly, doing their best minimizing the force with which they hit it. As I gazed out at the sea on the deck, I realized that it looked like a slumbering giant, its power locked and untapped, muscles unflexed, snoring not obnoxiously but quite loudly. A hue of wondrous, warm colors had introduced themselves across the sky as the burning ball of fire slowly started merging in with the sea. I think traveling by ocean is one unforgettable experience. The fresh essence of salty water and the wind stroking your cheeks once in a while as you bask in the warmth of the sun is a different feeling altogether, something you'd never feel in the countryside. It just gets an inexorable feeling of happiness to flow through my veins. Soon, when it gets dark, I gaze up at the sky to see the plethora of stars scattered across, forming little constellations. The sight got me transfixed to my spot, unable and not wanting to move at all. I think I was trapped in a net of hypnotism and tranquility all at once. A trap I never wanted to find a way out of. Let's just say, this was one wondrous and beauteous trip. PAGE NO.26
TO TRAVEL To travel is to breathe, To live life on the street, To pack a bag Filled with knicks and knacks And follow heaven's lead. To some, it is a door, To escape from dreadful bore; With a shirt on their back Eyes filled with curious delight, They follow all or any road. To me , it is a chore, To leave the house door; A whimsical delight once more As I pass through each road. To travel, is an art, Only a single step to start; With wistful middles of beautiful riddles, And tears when it is time to depart.
BYÂ NANDHITHA HEMANTHKUMAR PAGE NO.27
PIECES OF HERSELF
BYÂ AISHA QADRI
She wanted to find herself, In the hills of Himachal, And the lakes of Kashmir. Lose herself to the echoing horizons Of Kutch. She left a part of her in Amer And a little in the lanes of Chowringhee. She was a puzzleHalf undone by civilization, Waiting to be fulfilled by anitiquity. Her pieces were scattered across the land, The waters and the greens. Her travels were a quest Of discovery and passionA discovery of herself, And a passion to conquer new lands. She fought through the wild in Gir Swam through the corals of Andaman, To find the pieces of the puzzle. In the murals of Ajanta she found love, Peace in the backwaters of Alleppey. Friendship in the laughs she shared, Over the bonfire in Kohima. She enthused, witnessed and absorbed The colors, cultures and languages. Someday when she shall find the last piece, She will lose herself again, To a new journey of a new self.Â
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A SINGLE GIRL IN JAIPUR BY AISHWARYA BARJATYA
I’m a 22-year-old working professional, who is and has been living with her parents since entering into this gigantic, beautiful planet. I’m riskaverse, and uncertainty, if ever, dip my toe into the sea of adventure. I’m shy and don’t make friends easily or quickly. So what happens when a girl like me decides to go to Jaipur to attend the Jaipur Literature Festival? Magic. One of the first things you learn while flying solo is to be extra responsible. You have to be cautious about your luggage, about waking up before your drop point passes you by (I traveled by bus) and, eventually, you have to be responsible for yourself. So that means learning how to deal with pesky come-ons by creepy guys, sorting out your logistics and acting like you know what you’re doing and where you’re going. It helps if you have company, but traveling solo is a great lesson in responsibility. To the parents who do not allow their young daughters to travel to new places in groups or alone ‘for her own safety’: she’s always going to be dependent on somebody else for adventure in her life. Let her find it herself. Let her travel. The other important thing you learn is to adjust. I’ve been privileged enough to have my own room since my teen years, but in Jaipur, when I stayed in a hostel with 50 other people and shared my room with 5 others, I learned to adjust. You might not get the cleanest washrooms and might not feel like using them, but traveling sets your priorities straight. So you do what you have to do.
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There’s a lot of introspection that happens on a solo trip, since there’s no one else to distract you from yourself. I found that I get bored easily, that north Indian isn’t the worst cuisine, and that I cannot stay awake for a full day. But perhaps the most important things you learn in life are not the ones which improve your personality, but those which change your outlook. When you discover the person you are, or could be, due to a reaction you had to an incident that took place which caught you by surprise, you realise your own fears, and the limitations that you put on yourself, and whether you’re willing to let go of them. Interacting and playing Ludo with other hostelers, sitting and talking around a bonfire, listening to Prasoon Joshi, Nilesh Misra and Shashi Tharoor at the Jaipur Literature Festival, making an instant connection with someone I met on the bus.. the list of memories I made in Jaipur is long and time is fleeting. Suffice it to say that I left Jaipur with a smile on my face and a desire to travel on a path of self-discovery, to ultimately reinvent myself.
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THE JOURNEY BYÂ NITANSHI GAUTAM
Suddenly I opened my eyes as I reached to my city. Maybe it was the essence of the city or that familiar voice of "chai chai" from window woke me up. "Bareilly" the board read. I really can't pen down the emotions, surroundsI felt as I sat my foots out of the train. It wasn't the long time to revisit this city, but every time I do, I feel the same. The happiness and surround me simultaneously. The rain of hopes , care, memories, love and relaxation starts to fall on me. I should tell you clearly this city is magical , which makes me sad and happy at the same time. "Beta"Â my dad smiled while waving hands in the air. I too replied with the teary smile only. And then he started to walk to me with the help of his support stick, which actually breaks my heart to pieces. I know I've never done anything wrong to him but still, I feel sorry for his blurred vision, slowered and shivered footsteps. I feel sorry for not holding the time with the tight grip and for not doing anything to make him feel safe and comfortable. "Hello, dad how are you?". "Your dad is so fit beta", he told me while hiding his stick and thick lenses. "I've controled my bp and sugar and now i can walk" . As I looked at his stick , "with the stick " he added. Then comes the scooter ride from the station to mahanagar and journey of talks start from studies via friends to Maa. PAGE NO.31
I always stop at this station between the journey. How's maa ? How's her backbone now? Is she still taking medicine ? While interrogating questions recklessly, her image with three or four white hairs comes in my mind , which makes me feel more sad and sorry.. I think she is a superwoman ,who can carry whole home and her office on her weak backbone without complaining. In between this small journey train of memories always stops for few seconds at the Street of 'his' house . The hope to see his glimpse acts a force to stop me there a lill more. But destination always acts a larger force in opposite direction and according to Newton journey goes on. Then comes my four walled single floored small but beautiful lill home . It is the beautiful part of my journey which gives me eternal happiness which nothing else can give in this world.the mere presence of my parents make me forget each and every thought which can drown me deep down. And maybe this is the reason this city is damn beautiful, and I love to being here. Then comes night with its dark side , lying down in bed with closed eyes again takes me to his street, and a hope to see him again surrounds me . It Happens as a daily routine , every morning I try to find a reason to go out of home to accidentally find him. Sadly I never met with this accident . Again night comes with the hope to see him next morning. Or may be this is a reason I feel sad being here. No matter how much plenty amount of time I spend here, it flies and vanishes like magic. Then again the journey begins from studies via home to New delhi, with bags filled with memories, loneliness, tasty food and a hope to see him in next the visit . PAGE NO.32
“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end” ― Ursula K. Le Guin
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