The Himalayan Diaries - Day 4 – Auli to Birahi, March 4, 2012

Late night again and on top of it one of the coldest and dreariest outside. Thanks to the marvels of the heating system, it was not too bad in the room at all. I had no hope of seeing a sunrise at all (which would have been magnificent on those snow peaked mountains) seeing the copious rain of the last night. But I woke up at 6 and saw the rain and cold outside. No sign of the Sun, so I snuggled back hoping Vasu would do the same. But Vasu being Vasu, was true to his word, (how perfect is this guy?) arrived on the scene at 6ish and I got out of bed. Ranjan was up as well and we surveyed the gloomy scene outside - the rain, the clouds and to make matters more interesting some hail. 

Hail

No hope for sunrises etc. I naively followed Ranjan outside the corridor where he wanted to smoke without my my shoes or socks, hoping to get back into the comfort of the room when Vasu suggested a climb to the temple. 'It's just here.'

Gloomy view of the morning

The icy winds soon took away all sensation from my feet, my nose and my hands. The one good thing was that I carried my camera. The temple was open though, minus priests as I believe is the fashion normally in the mountains, well kept, smelling of camphor and agarbatti, a Bajrang Bali temple, the second I have been to in the past two months. 

View from the temple

Another view from the temple

Vasu returning after the temple expedition

The slight rain and the winds, added to the drama. We paid our obeisance to the monkey god, read the first few lines of the Hanuman Chalisa written over there, took some pics. No sign of the Sun. Up in the mountains it appeared that it was snowing. The clouds were floating around below us ponderously, pregnant with rain. Skiing was under threat. Unfortunately we had got all the gear this time. When I returned I was funnily immune to the cold. What is it with the weather here?

Temple in brighter light

Post breakfast, again a decent effort by the GMVN chappies, toast, omelettes, paranthas and so on, we headed back to the rooms. We met a group from Bombay, a fifty year old bunch of guy friends, a Chartered Accountant, a Bharat Gas Agency owner and a Studio owner. The CA had something in common with Vasu as he had been in Canada for a while too, but it was Koni who subjected him to his views of the ills of taxation in India. Post breakfast Ranjan and I got into some table tennis activity, Kiri and Koni got into some card games, and Vasu and Aditya started preparing for skiing. 

View of the ski slope from the top

Koni ditched them at the last moment and preferred to stay back with cards and Kiri. Ranjan and I volunteered our camera and videography services and went up the big slopes - we had plans of walking up to the trees that bordered the ski slopes. With the ski lift on today, the slopes were much more fun for Aditya and Vasu. It had snowed last night and we could see the trees covered in white.There was a slight snowfall as we walked - and on top of that, owing to snowfall at night, we had to walk through one foot deep snow. Ranjan, Vicky, Mohan and another chap I cannot remember, followed the skiers and took some snaps. 

Ranjan - happy in the snow

After taking some fine pictures and videos (which added to much laughter in the camp later due to the rather amateur nature of the video quality), Ranjan and I struggled up the slopes to a spot near the trees where we would get a breathtaking view of the slopes and the mountains. It took a while and we got there - almost. 

Our trekking target

This is where we stopped

View from the top

Cottages

View from the top 2

The view was worth all the trouble though. Grand. Majestic. We sat for a while and then slipped and slid back to the slopes where Vasu and Aditya had just completed their quota of skiing. Vasu and Aditya seemed to have had enough of skiing and we decided to head out of Auli now. We'd head towards Rishikesh for the river rafting. Ranjan booked us into a forest guest house near Birahi and we packed up, ate lunch and headed back down the hills.

Children going to school

Cricket in the mountains - common sight

The father, the son and the holy...(can't cope with any expression of love?)

It was a lovely drive down the mountains and we stopped many times to click pictures. The drive was only three hours so we could take our time. By the time we reached Birahi and the guest house, it was twilight. A bonfire was set up near the gazebo, chilly winds and total darkness owing to a power cut. Add to it a fine rain and once again it was pure magic up in the mountains. 

Rare moment

Back in action

Another poignant moment (shortage of rum?)

Content

Old friends, old wine, old books...

Songs were played, songs were sung. Aditya, apart from being a sportsman, and the sports captain of his school, also sings and plays for a rock band. He was the DJ for the evening and we all had a great time out by the fire until the rain picked up. Dinner and then we retired to bed. Once again Koni kept his end going till late in the night, well past midnight. Tired, I dropped off into sleep under the heavy quilts.

The Himalayan Diaries - Day 3 – Birahi To Auli, March 4, 2012

We got an early start from Birahi after what was an eventful night. The mellow morning sunlight bathed the entire mountainside and the valley where we were, the balmy air was highly refreshing and we were all set to head further up into the mountains - to Auli where the skiing resort was.

The Ganga flows by behind  - Kiri, Vasu and Ranjan

We checked out of the GMVN resort and headed out in the two cars on roads that were considerably narrower and worse for wear of landslides and such. 

Happiness - Ranjan, me and Koni

I saw many families drive by in cars, mini buses hurrying by and jeeps ferrying people. In the mountains one can see small settlements of houses, once in a while a lone dwelling. 

The Riverside Resort from the road

The people here climb up and down rapidly, sure footed and carry heavy loads easily. I saw many women bent almost double, carrying loads back home. The men? Children walked the roads to school, some as small as three or four it seemed, skirting the steep falls of the mountains.

A winding road. Ranjan took over the wheel of the Innova and we all hopped in with him.

Another view

The resort deep in the background, Vasu in the forefront

 For breakfast we stopped at their site just outside Joshimath where a fine South Indian breakfast of vada and dosa alongwith a North Indian spread of hot paranthas were on offer.

Stop for breakfast

Looking down from breakfast point to the cars

We came up this way

Cricket in the hills - I played a while

Kiri caught Koni and engaged me in some pointless discussion as usual

 In the nice chilly environs the food was welcome and we gulped down some coffee before we headed out. A few kms and it was Joshimath - we took the bypass and then upwards to Auli, the skiing resort. We hit Auli at 1230 or so. 

The Himalayas

It was sunny but the slopes were full of hardened snow that clung on like lumps in a most ungainly manner. 
The mountains all round were of sizes that I could not imagine, majestic and magnificent in their bearing, as the winds howled around them. We soon arrived at the GMVN resort at Auli, checked into very comfortable rooms and after a short while headed up to the ski slopes. 

The lift that takes us up to the ski slopes - 200 bucks round trip

The walk up to the lift was demanding enough and we wondered how we'd manage the rest. To rub salt into our wounds were youngsters racing up and down the slopes. 

On the lift freezing

We took the lift up to the slopes, sliding along the cable wires high up. We plodded through the snow, and stopped for chai (the few joints there serve Maggi noodles which seems to be the staple food up there). The skiing for the day seemed to have been suspended - all activity closes a 4 p.m. and it must have been 2 p.m. There was also some championship happening there with kids, some as young as six or seven, skiing like professionals and whizzing past us. We were introduced to a skiing instructor, pretty looking lady, and visions of Zindagi Milegi Na Dobara arose among the ranks. The skiers - Vasu, Aditya and Koni - soon found out that there would be no skiing for that day from the official sources.

Auli apparently means the 'meadow' - Maggi noodles and chai

After wandering about for a while, we walked down to another hut at the bottom of the slope where chai and Maggi was had. It was nothing but a hut - a swing of the flap and out came a smow mobile kind of a machine - spanking new. The mountains are fgull of surprises. An adventurous young man offered his services to help ski and Vasu, Aditya and Koni hired him instantly. Skis were hired, slopes identified. The only sad part was that there were no lifts on their ascent. This tired out everyone – even me who was watching. Some slipping and sliding and falling and soon everyone had a good time and we were headed back to the rooms. At 4 even the lift that takes us down to the hotel would stop. In fact at 4 I think everything out there stops because of the cold and the winds.

Koni did better skiing than that

Walking back up with the skis

Vasu and Aditya going down

And up

Change in weather

From the Auli slopes they say one can see the peaks of Nanda Devi, Nanga Parbat and others. Someone pointed vaguely into the clouds and said that Nanda Devi was behind that. Anyway with toes and fingers freezing, the nose almost non existent, we made it back to the comfort of the room. We enjoyed the sports facilities of the GMVN, table tennis, caroms, pool and then retired for tea and some snacks. The table tennis was tiring as well speaking volumes of our fitness. This GMVN stuff is good I must say though. The weather outside changed drastically from the nice sunny weather early afternoon to dark and cloudy. There was rain as well giving the whole sight a rather sombre look. At 5, Vasu, Aditya and Koni went to pick up their skis for the next morning. Koni looked direly in need of some instructions.

Back in the rooms - happiness uncorked

By 7 p.m. the bottles were out and everyone was cackling and laughing away as only boy gangs can do - in a rather mindless manner. We ate Karachi biscuits of all things. GMVN’s heaters were extremely effective and the party continued once again well into the night, with one small break for dinner where the non-drinkers, Vasu, Aditya and I, headed down for some small meal, joined by Ranjan. Back in the room Koni was relentlessly reeling off his theories, stories, ideas and opinions and we listened, amused to death, our strength dwindling as sleep overcame us.

A classic picture - Kiri looking in and looking out, man's eternal dilemma

 It had started raining and one wondered if there would be snowfall, if there would be skiing at all. But up in the mountains apparently the weather is far more capricious. Before going to sleep Vasu and I planned to get up at 6 (another ambitious plan for me especially since Koni would keep me up till 230 with his stories). Alarms were set.

The Himalayan Diaries - Day 2 – Dehradun to Birahi, March 3, 2012

Owing to the late night, which as I mentioned earlier would become a regular feature for the rest of the trip, we just about managed to get out of Dehradun by 930 and hit the road. This time on the Bolero wit Mohan at the wheel. Hardly had we gone a few kilometres and Koni waned to drink chai. A few more kms and he wanted to smoke. Some more and he wanted to take a picture. We were to reach Birahi, a distance of about 220 kms from Dehradun, way up in the ghats, ahead of Vasu, Kiri and Aditya but owing to these constant stops we made little headway. Add to that Vicky’s penchant to tear about on any road in his Innova with his Punjabi flair, and we were bound to meet Vasu and Co much earlier than what we had hoped to. Koni claims to have been inspired by a road sign that said ‘Jaldi kya hai pyaare, dekh prakriti ke nazare’.

Dehradun to Rishikesh

The road to Rishikesh is plain but someplace before Rishikesh we start hitting the ghats. Lovely tall trees line up both sides of the road and one is reminded of the movies of the sixties where the heroine and her girl gang would be off on bike rides singing songs. The mellow March Sun shining through the trees and the fresh mountain air make it all the more enjoyable. There is a faint fragrance of the many hued flowers, trees, grass.

One of the many stops

We got a sight of the Ganga in the valley by the side of the road and followed it up into the mountains, stopping at the picturesque Kaudiyala for a snack of paneer pakoras and vegetable sandwiches and tea. 

The Kaudiyala resort facing the Ganges

Lovely rooms overlooking the Ganga and the resort itself is well located by the highway. 

The Ganga and the river bed with tents

Paneer pakoras, vegetable sandwiches and tea

We enquired with the GMVN (Garhwal Mandal Vikas Nigam) office and learnt that the rooms were reasonably priced (less than 1000 bucks if I remember). 

This GMVN is a good option for those planning to do these parts – affordable, well maintained and with good grub generally. We looked across the river at the tents on the river bed below, some rafts and rafters and moved on. We passed Dev Prayag, the first of the many Prayags where the different rivulets meet and converge to become the hoary Ganga before it heads down to the plains.

 Rudra Prayag, Karn Prayag, Nand Prayag are the other Prayags we see on the way and one Prayag, we miss. The mid point of this drive appeared to be Garhwal Srinagar and we stopped just outside at a lovely spot called Riverside Resorts and waited for Vasu, Kiri and Aditya to catch up. And so they did in a short while.

Kiran, me, Vasu, Koni and Aditya at the Riverside Hotel before Srinagar

Post lunch we adjusted ourselves in the two cars and started the ascent again stopping once more for a cup of tea just before Nand Prayag.

Tea time someplace before Nandprayag

 The roads are generally wide enough for a decent passage for two vehicles. But the landslides, rockfalls and parts where the road slips down are the stuff to watch out for. We caught a sight of two snow capped mountains, my first sighting of snow. 

Signboard

The mountains grew bigger, the valleys deeper, the roads narrower, the weather colder. All along the route the Ganga flowed by peacefully below. 

First sighting of snow capped peaks in the background

Sometime at 730 p.m. or so we arrived at Birahi, a small town after Chamoli, where Ranjan was waiting. He had booked us in a GMVN Riverside Resort. With Ranjan aboard, the party was complete.

Vasu, Aditya, Ranjan, Kiran, Koni around the bonfire

Without further ado bottles were uncorked or rather, less dramatically, opened, finger snacks ordered and we settled down in the valley in a most surreal setting. The mountains rose steeply on all sides and we were at their feet, a few meters from the Ganga. A brilliant forest fire caught on the mountain top and lit up the moonlit sky which shone through between the mountain peaks. 

The mountain fire

The rustle of the Ganga behind us, the crackle of the wooden fire, the cackle of the boy gang. Full hearts, happy hearts. As the rest of us added layers to keep out the cold Koni discarded all but his T shirt and jeans and sat in the cold drinking merrily. Songs were played and at a suitable moment when the general mood had risen way above the mountain tops, we all took a torch, a guide and walked to the Ganga later at night, the songs accompanying us. 

Keeping out the cold but staying out

The night ended once again at 230 a.m., as we shivered in the cold, trying to convince Koni to eat and then move into the room. Bottles were emptied and all sensible topics and laughter exhausted before we dropped into deep slumber. I hoped that the cold would not affect the adventurer. The evening had really been surreal with the moonlight, starlight, forest fire, the mountains, the river and the company. For that one experience I could have willingly forsaken the rest of the trip right then.

The Himalayan Diaries – Day 1, Delhi to Dehradun, March 2, 2012

It was only last year that I had decided to correct a major shortcoming in my life – I had never seen the Himalayas and wanted to see them. My good friend, the extremely competitive, taciturn, sentimental, large hearted lover of good times, one with a fine sense of humour and one who enjoys a good laugh, Ranjan Pant, was at Dehradun and we somehow got it all together - with much encouragement from him. I set off to see the Himalayas alone. It was an experience that somehow left a deep impression on me. The vast mountains, the fresh air, the deeply spiritual experience at Rishikesh, the colourful trees, the flowers – I knew I wanted to go back there and sit on the banks of the Ganges or walk along the pristine mountain roads and explore a bit more. Sometime again, I promised myself.

When Vasu, my old friend from All Saints High School, a successful entrepreneur who manages a fairly large sized infra company with uncommon ease and flair, a man who has a heart of an adventurer (one that is concealed from the untrained eye), suggested that we go to a skiing resort up in the Himalayas called Auli, more than a month ago, everyone nodded. I nodded too, with a rider that I would not ski – I could not imagine something sliding under me in my currently unbalanced ways. Used to many such plans being made and not being followed up all the time, we, Koni, Kiran, Ranjan and I, waited for things to unfold to see what happens. But Vasu being Vasu, was as good as his word, and we were soon having to confirm our participation as the promised dates arrived. Unused to such precise planning, to all order and structure, we were in unfamiliar terrain – unable to decide till the last moment. But Ranjan who went back to Dehradun had the whole thing in control and we all had to merely get on board. All else was set. We merely had to board our respective flights and show up.

Koni was not set. As usual. The day before the trip, Mr. Unpredictable sprung a twist in the tale at the last moment. He called me and told me that the trip had to be cancelled in his curt businesslike tone. Things had cropped up he said. Important stuff and he had to be around to set them right. Cancel was his last word. I knew this would happen. I pondered over this new and familiar development. Koni and I were to take the flight on the 2^nd to Delhi and take the road to Dehradun. This trip was something that Koni had prompted at a time when I was dilly dallying on the decision to make the trip. Doing it alone did not appeal to me. I decided to give myself an hour to figure out what to do and called all other concerned parties to inform them of the latest.

The sudden prospect of the lack of Koni and his customary madness was a huge dampener to Kiri and Ranjan and I could sense the disappointment in everyone’s voice. Vasu called as well and asked if Koni was on board. I said I’d do something about it. Something clicked in my mind and I decided for both Koni and me. Time to assert oneself I said to myself, to seize control, to not always be dictated to. We were going. I’d get him out of the bed even if I had to and drag him to the airport next morning at 4. That was it. I called him and told him that. He listened quietly not used to having plans dictated to him normally. But to his credit he listened. To seal the issue we went and bought some stuff, shoes etc for the trip, and split. But with Koni you never know until we get on the plane. Tenterhooks all around. 

At 3 in the morning he would not pick up the phone. I thought he’d done me in. He was quite capable of such a thing. But he had never let me down when he had confirmed something yet. Tried again. Luckily he picked it up at 4 and somehow we made it to the airport and were on the way. The Himalayan expedition was on. Assuredly it would only get spicier, noisier and more unpredictable with Koni around. All hopes of quiet sojourns on the Ganga, introspective evenings and serious conversations could now be shelved. The trip would take its own shape now - in all the opposite shades.

Koni and the Bolero in Dehradun

I slept in the flight and caught up on my sleep. At Delhi we met Vicky, the man with the Innova. Vada was priced at 80 bucks at the  Delhi airport so we decided to eat on the way. Vicky drove us to Nathu’s on the way to Dehradun where we had breakfast. Chole bhatura was good, but don’t ever order a puri there. Its  pathetic. There were pictures of Raina, Kaif and some Indian cricketers from those parts standing with the Nathu’s management. But none of them were eating. It was a quiet drive after that and we both caught up on our sleep. Reached Dehradun by 330 in the afternoon. Went out shopping some more for Koni in the evening, gave our coordinates to Ranjan and prepared for the climb into the hills the next day. I got a packet of Alpha MS from a homeopathic shop who recommended it highly for motion sickness, something that bothered me the last time. Two pills one hour before the drive and two every three hours thereafter, very effective. (It was. Don't ever climb the hills without these magic pills) 

I read from Sidin Vadukut’s new Dork book which was pretty funny and Koni filled himself up merrily with some rum that evening. Kiran, Vasu and Vasu’s fourteen year old sporty son Aditya were to fly into the Jolly Grant airport at Dehradun next noon. Koni and I had made ambitious plans of taking off at 8 a.m. But since the night had come to a close only at 230 a.m., which, I soon came to know, was to be the standard time for falling asleep on this particular vacation owing to Koni’s philosophy that no one should sleep on a vacation, we started much later.

Rahul Dravid - A Thorough Professional and a Gentleman Cricketer

Rahul Dravid's retirement announcement was no surprise to me. Something about these Karnataka cricketers, especially this bunch of Srinath, Kumble, Dravid and their contemporaries makes you wonder where and whom they learnt their life lessons from. Their decisions to step down were perfectly timed - in fact Srinath was called out of his retirement to play the World Cup in South Africa which shows he quit before his time - and well on top of their game. I love the lot for their grace, their graciousness, their spirit and the maturity they brought to the game. All of them and many of their contemporaries are indeed role models for cricketers from the rest of the country to emulate in terms of behaviour on and off the field.

They also brought a great amount of professionalism to the sport. Always doing it for the team and never for themselves. An attitude that always comes through the television screen - you cannot hide it. The agendas, the games, the tricks are all too obvious, or for the slightly naive, one can just sense that something is just not right. But not with these gentlemen cricketers from Karnataka who were part of the renaissance of Indian cricket where we morphed from eternal whiners to world champions who gave it back by actions and sometimes by words. They have all safely taken India to the crest and now move on, having show the way.

Srinath was hostile and made batsmen hop and hustle without ever having resorted to bowling bouncers or using non-cricketing techniques like sledging about families. Kumble was a competitor who was as fierce as any West Indian fast bowler, one who had the heart of a lion. Then there is Rahul Dravid who brought a solidity that must have made bowlers all over sigh at the very sight. It is only when you bowl to these technically superior batsmen that you realise how they can frustrate you with their perfection. So much so that as a bowler you feel it is pointless to go back to the top of the run up to bowl at them sometimes. For years opposition skippers have said that the batsman they feared most in the famed Indian batting line up was Rahul Dravid and they say it because he is the kind who drains out hope from the opposition. As long as there is hope the opposition has life but when hope goes, there is nothing that one can clutch on to. Dravid was the kind who would suck out hope with the dead bat, the still calm and the patience of mountains. Nothing could shake him, make him play a shot that was not practiced.

I played with Srinath in Inter varsity games when he turned up for Mysore University as a speedy young lad with great inswingers that always got our dashing opener Masood out LBW in the first over. I never played against Kumble or Rahul though I followed Kumble as he scored a century for the Under 19 India and then made his Test debut as an unconventional leg spinner. Then I watched a one day match between Hyderabad and Karnataka in the Subbiah Pillai tournament when Hyderabad set Karnataka a stiff target at Gymkhana grounds Secunderabad. I watched the game from my scooter on the road as Karnataka lost all its top batsmen and was five or six wickets down and the rate had gone past 8 runs an over for the next 25 overs or so which pretty much ended all hope for Karnataka. Young Rahul Dravid was batting solidly at one end when I took off home. Next day I saw in the papers that Karnataka had won and Rahul had made 150 plus runs. Something about that knock made me think that this boy would soon play for Indian and he did.

More than the runs he scored for India it was the manner and circumstance in which he scored them that makes him special. He always stood up in adversity. He never changed or got influenced by the flamboyance that adorned the Indian batting - Tendulkar, Sehwag, Laxman, Ganguly. He kept going, absolutely sure of his role, his place, his technique, his training and gave the best he had. He was involved in innumerable big partnerships with all of the above and was always the reason for the partnership to flourish. To play second fiddle, to wear down bowlers who would then take a chance with the other batsmen, to bring a sense of balance was his forte. As a bowler I can well imagine how it must be to bowl at him for long periods where you are denied even a whiff of success at getting a wicket. Ball after ball is left, or played solidly back to you, all shots go off the meat of the bat, there is no element of risk. You inch closer and closer to the wicket as he leaves the balls outside the offstump that other batsmen flirt with. Just when you have moved in enough, you find the dead bat blocking you. If you err in length, the feet move perfectly and the ball is dispatched solidly to the fence. When you see other batsmen it is easy for bowlers to experiment to get a wicket because they are more likely to go after it. Dravid was indeed a master at the art of attrition.

In declaring well before a dithering Sachin got his double hundred, in quitting captaincy at the end of a successful tour, in always being comfortable holding up the fort while all else got the accolades, in many such circumstances Rahul has shown that he is for the team first and nothing can get in the way, even friendships or personal glory. It is this quality of his, and his rock solid professionalism that mark the man as a cricketer. When he had a lean season a few years ago and was dropped from the Indian side Rahul, the eternal student of the game, sought out the ageing Rehmat Baig, the coach at the ML Jaisimha Cricket Academy now but previously with the BCCI, and came down for a two day stint with this old and respected coach. Such humility is rare in Indian cricket. That was the time I first met him and found him to be one who carried no starry airs at all - IPL, Indian captaincy and all were fresh. We had a small chat while driving him to and from the hotel he was staying in, he spoke about the IPL business model, about his cricket and stuff frankly. A few months later I met him again at a memorial service and book launch for the late Rajan Bala at the CCI in Mumbai. The entire Indian team was practising outside and Rahul was the only one who came to attend the small function in memoriam of one of India's greatest sports journalists, a function that was presided over by Sanjay Manjrekar. Rahul in his typical style shunned all attempts to be seated on stage, listened intently to all that was said, released the book and went away well after the end of the program. It was also nice to see Harsha Bhogle walk in as well spontaneously and pay his respects by adding his presence to the gathering.

It is easy to see why Rahul is so popular. He has no agenda other than doing his job and doing it well - be it speaking at lectures, being the ambassador for the sport, or batting. He just does it well, takes it seriously and does it with the pride that is required of any work. He is easy to approach, unlike most celebrities who move under a cloak of self importance and insecurity (no wonder they need a lot of security). One would be surprised to see how easy the vibe is with Rahul - I have seen complete strangers ask all sorts of things from him in the few minutes that I spent with him and he answered them all patiently and politely.

If there is one thing we could learn from Rahul Dravid, it is that one must plan, prepare well to execute well. That one must constantly improve oneself to be at the top, however talented one may be. That one must know what one is, what one's strengths are and remain true to them despite all the noise, all the glamour and glitz. That one must be true to the medium that one can express oneself best, and always respect it, however high one may find oneself floating. That sacrifices are a must, that one must take the good with the bad, roll with the punches and come back to office the next day. He always worked on every aspect of the game, tirelessly and that is one thing that everyone of his colleagues say - he kept pushing the bar for himself.

It will be easy for Rahul to step into whatever life he chooses because he has always been comfortable in the shadows despite the enormity of the burden he bore - he always knew what he was worth, what value he brought. To be the man chosen by none other than Steve Waugh to write the famous Aussie's autobiography's Foreword is no joke - it shows the enormous respect he has among the greatest of the greats. Unlike most celebrities who miss the spotlight because they know themselves less, Rahul will move on gracefully. If anyone will feel the deep vacuum that starts expanding slowly and quietly, it is in the dressing room of the Indian cricket team which Rahul Dravid has left permanently. For giving much and for teaching much by merely being himself, the nation and all cricket lovers owe Rahul Dravid a heartfelt thanks and warm wishes that speed him on to whatever he desires to do. Well done Rahul Dravid and may you use your considerable intelligence and your many other facets to good use to the society at large.

Mahabharata - Kamala Subramaniam

The Mahabharata is truly the mother of all stories. My early initiation into this story was through our mythological films where we were lucky to have the great NTR and ANR of Telugu films portray those difficult roles wonderfully well, stories told by our parents, by Amar Chitra Kathas, a few novels like the wonderfully written 'Palace of Illusions' by Chitra Divakurani Banerjee and certainly the epic tele serial 'Mahabharath' by B.R. Chopra. Most of them gave me a perspective to the story but what rounded off my perspective or rather what made it whole for me was a delightful two volume edition of the Mahabharata written by an eleven year old author Samhita Arni. Her version of the Mahabharata was well rounded and I got an abridged 360 degree view of this epic. It has so many heroes, their back stories, the philosophy of life and so much more that I am sure no translation or interpretation can ever truly do justice tot his story.

When my good friend Sanjay Reddy a.k.a. Mama, gifted me this 900 page tome by Kamala Subramaniam,  I was more than eager to get started on it. I read it for about two months and having read it am truly convinced that no tale can have a larger canvas, more drama, tragedy than this. Kamala Subramaniam tells the story as it unfolds and it has so many intricate twists and turns, so much intrigue and human frailty incorporated into it that even after knowing the story, seeing it on screen, I could not stop myself from turning page after page as if I was a ten year old reading my first thriller. It is a feeling that I cannot describe as I sat up till 3 in the morning unable to stop as the story of the warring cousins unfolded before me.

Certain things stood out for me this time. The single flaw of Duryodhana - of his envy of his cousins - being one of the main reasons for the war. The belief that his great friend Karna would kill Arjuna even if Bheeshma and Drona would not, is another reason for him to perpetuate the war. The doomed Karna despite knowing his destiny, that he would die defenceless against Arjuna, and despite knowing that he could easily join the Pandavas and rule the Kuru empire as the eldest born of Kunti, choosing to die fighting for his friend. Dritharashtra's inability to reign in his son Duryodhana's desires and the inability of the elders of the Kuru court Bheeshma, Drona. Kripa and others to ensure justice and fairness even as Duryodhana constantly tries to kill his cousins.  The war itself, heavily loaded in favour of the stronger Kaurava army in terms of strength and warriors, slowly turns towards the reluctant Pandavas' advantage (who fight full strength unlike the Kauravas whose infighting neutralises their superior strength).
 
Bheeshma's advise to Yudhishtir on how to rule a country is a wonderful lesson to any leader. Vidura's treatise is equally so. Of course Krishna's Gita on the war field to a hesitant and discouraged Arjuna soars above all on what man is meant to do when faced by doubt, in understanding one's dharma, on life itself. There is much to learn for the student on leadership, management, team work, duty, politics, negotiation, life skills and so much more. I hope to get my thoughts clear on those and write on them more specifically and more coherently. Right now I am still floating in the ecstasy of having experienced this story.

Duryodhana's incredible charm and convincing powers, the friendship of Duryodhana and Karna, the generosity and heroism of Karna, the valour of Arjuna, the righteousness of Yudhishtir, are stuff we all know of. It was also interesting to know of the exploits of Satyaki who remains undefeated  and who causes as much damage to the Kauravas as Arjuna himself, Ghatotkacha who saves the day for the Pandavas by creating havoc in the Kaurava army forcing Karna to use his Shakti weapon which will kill whoever it is meant for (Karna saves it for Arjuna until Ghatotkacha forces him to use it against him), the tragic death of young Abhimanyu who is killed unfairly by the Kaurava warriors forcing Arjuna to seek revenge against Jayadratha and against all who killed his son unfairly - Drona, Karna included. One among the Kauravas, Vikarna, sides openly with Draupadi in the court when she questions how Yudhistir can stake her when he has already sold himself and scolds the Kuru elders. One Kaurava Yuyitsu fights the Kurukhestra war on behalf of the Pandavas as he joins them before the war. Three warriors remain of the massive Kaurava army after Duryodhana dies a painful death - Aswatthama who is cursed by Krishna to wander the earth forever for his sin of killing unborn children, Kritavarma and Kripa.

The story unfolds at a frantic pace all through the 900 pages and unleashes as much emotion each time as any. To hear of honour, of bravery, of justice, of nobility and to see how everything falls as the war degenerates to its worst as the stakes go upshows what levels man goes to under pressure. Kamala Subramaniam, a learned scholar in the Indian epics and puranas and an expert at Shakespheare  and English literature, wrote this wonderful book in a nice, easy manner, in a language that anyone can understand and left behind a fine legacy for those who want to study this great epic. The Mahabarata by Kamala Subramaniam is priced at Rs. 500 and published by Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan. Much thanks is owed to Sanjay Reddy for gifting me this wonderful story and thereby opening my eyes to the greatest story ever told. I will come back to this and explore many interesting parts of the Mahabharata surely. For anyone who wants to read a good version of this epic grab this book right away. You will never regret it.

Song of the Day - Yeh Jawani Yeh Diwani

Love this number from 'Jawani Diwani' shot on a college going Randhir Kapoor and a Teddy bear carrying (not in this song though) Jaya Bhaduri. The open top Herald, the Bullet and the wide open spaces are all great to watch and reminisce. The song is of course peppy and good fun with Kishore and RD Burman in great form.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsueFTP5H8o