Tiger Tiger Burning Bright !

Two days of consecutive holidays and it is a perfect setting for a jungle trip. I was contemplating a trip to Nagarhole for quite some time and two holidays in a row provided the much needed kick.

Nagarhole National Park is now officially known as Rajiv Gandhi National Park but as many names just don't become favorites the park is still popular as the Nagarhole Park. Its one of the better kept Wild Life Reserves in India and boasts of the highest concentration of Tigers , Leopards and Wild Dogs.

I generally like to start early and even after trying my best I could leave only by 5:30am in my Zen . The isolated roads made me fire the engine full speed and with speed comes death. Well I stopped much short only to be hit my a speed breaker. That made the Zen sweat and I ended up damaging something which I'm still not sure. A buzzing sound greets the driver each time the first gear is applied. A lesson to learn - a car is not a jeep.

A speed breaker was not going to spoil the trip - this is what I told myself and I decide to continue. The black beauty responded well to my trust and it took us just over two hours to cover some 120 kms on the Bangalore - Mysore Highway. Hard music and speed just thrills !!

Nagarhole is another 45 kms from Mysore. We made our way steadily and once the six lane highway ended we were greeted by pot-hole ridden roads. The car never complained and we were in the jungle by 11 am. Thick growth of wild grass and bamboo along the roads made us believe that we were entering a forest.

The serenity and calmness of that place forced me to extend my trip by a day and I decided to check out a hotel. Felt lucky to discover that an accommodation in the form of a tent house was available .

After a heavy lunch -a real heavy one – it was time for the jungle safari.

The first sighting was a Serpent Eagle. Next we spotted dears and they were plenty - a sign that the predators have ample food available. Caught a glimpse of the giant Malabar squirrel courtesy the Mahindra jeep. Its a tough vehicle but certainly not suited for spotting wild life. The engine noise is deafening.

The next on the menu were wild dogs who had reached the brink of extinction during colonial times. Credit to forests like Nagarhole , their numbers are bouncing back . We climbed a "Machan" and were thrilled to site a "Gaur" – the Indian Bison , a wild pig and some Sambhars.

A few animals accompanied us in the jeep. They talked about their salaries , their Managers and how their children outclassed their peers .Their wives were even more fussy. They wanted to see the tiger and the guide had a tough time explaining that the king of the jungle cannot be dictated to pose for them.

A four hours safari was nearing its end and the Tiger remained elusive.

Hot tea served with pakodas do provide solace after a tiring day. It was time to grab a seat - a 30 minutes documentary film on the Nagarhole National Park was very enriching.

Dinner was served late much to my annoyance but it seemed I was the odd man out . Everybody seemed patient with the idea of a late dinner. I ate as if I had never eaten and after this feeding frenzy it was time for bed. A night in a tent and that also in a jungle - its just too perfect if the moon shines bright overhead.

I had a comfortable sleep and the next morning it was time for a short safari -not again with the same sick crowd. We had better companions this time and we felt blessed to site a herd of wild elephants. An elephant training camp was not to be missed. We met an elephant who had recently created havoc by killing eight people but his luck ran out and the beast was finally caught and locked in a cage.

Food is prepared for these giants in vessels which are no less amazing. Tribal have been been recruited as care takers and forest guards . A good way of keeping everybody happy.

It was time to leave but not before a heavy breakfast and that too its silly to miss one if the hotel provides a complimentary one.

We decided to visit a Tibetan Monastery which was around 40 kms from Nagarhole. The drive was good and the country side was even more enchanting. We entered Coorg and accidentaly I sighted a board which read "Abbi fall- 45kms".

The next place we stopped was Abbi Falls - 80 kms from Nagarhole. Its an awesome place , coffee and pepper plantations greet travelers and with mountains around you one is forced to admit - its heaven.

As with all Falls - they are haunted by travelers who like to donate plastic and similar non degradable waste. Its a way of expressing our feelings and a majority of Indians enjoy littering around.

It was time to pack up and head home. Black clouds are a sign of rain and who's stopping them . It started to rain and it rained and rained and it flooded the roads and jammed the traffic . It took twice the time to drop down from the hills .

After a few wrong turns we located the "Golden Temple" - hundreds of Tibetan monks and visitors flock the place. Tibetans have done justice to the place of worship . It was clean - real clean . Gigantic statues of Buddha and other Guru's were breathtaking.

The rain continued .

Heading home was high on priority and the Zen was hurt but still not out. Pot-hole ridden roads get dangerous when it rains. Luckily we covered a major part of the journey before sunset. Reached home around 10 pm and it was still raining !!

I started with "Tiger Tiger Burning Bright !" and I guess its best to end with this nursery rhyme- “Rain rain go away,
Come again another day.
Little Johnny wants to play”

A Trip To Heaven !

"Heaven" - its -" A condition or place of great happiness, delight, or pleasure" ,this is what the online search on www.Dictionary.com gives when supplied with the word "Heaven".

India is a developing country !! What is a developing country ? There are two answers -a political & the other technical. The technical first - any country where its peasants are still fighting for three meals a day, clean drinking water & where educations is not for all - I'm sure this suffices. The Political one now- any country which is not the part of G-4(One minus G-5 -China is also a developing nation,it brings lots of solace to Indians to see China struggling with us)is a developing country !! You might disagree , good if you don't.

There is no clear demarcation as to which country is a developing country & which is not .(There is even a worse category -the third world countries- I'll not talk about them . Are they worth talking ? )One can always argue that we all want to develop in some form or the other , we want more money , better cars , more salaries , more , more , more - so I'm sure there is no
scope left in the argument & we all agree that we wanna develop !! Any non takers ?

An Indian is a complex creature - with English as the second language we all compete to prove that its "kind-off" our first language. It's a social status to converse in English - the fluency is all that matters - talk crap - who cares !!

The United States Of America is like the "Promised Land" to many in the Developing & Third World countries . Many are born with that aim - they struggle - a few lucky ones make it -the rest die talking English. America is like a Heaven - why ? You better don't ask !!

A trip to the Heaven is an account of the experiences I had while obtaining the ticket to America.

The ticket is costly & since money is a rare commodity with me the only way I could leave my land was on a free ticket. The best way to obtain a free ticket is to join a software company. The next step after joining a software company is a to pretend that you've got fed up of the system & place & want a break . If the manager buys your argument (who cares if he doesn't) you might just find yourself in the Visa Consulate.

The American Visa Consulate is a fortress - lot of crooks can be figured outside the strong walls - don't be surprised if somebody approaches you any whispers " America janna hai kya ? "(Wanna go to America ?).

One needs to book a slot on the web - I had to report at 11 am. "Dress up well - wear a tie , take a good file cover ..." this is what my manager told me - I must admit I never wore a tie even while giving interviews (barring the first one).A serpentine queue greets everybody who enters. You'll find actors , students , engineers , workers all standing in the same queue , this never happens in India otherwise. The first sign that America is a a different land.

After spending some hours outside & still trying to keep tidy I managed to reach the door. The door opens - metal detectors & security guards frisk all . Everybody should carry two cheques - one of them is deposited at the first counter which also provides a token. Keep the second cheque with you & pray that its also accepted.Wait ! its not all that easy . Quite a number are struggling to fill the forms . A Sardarji from Punjab( All Sardars are from Punjab) is struggling to pronounce his name - he is too old & his voice breaks.

The token bears a number - read it. Stand in the queue whose window bears the number. All the marksheets , address proof , company details , photographs have to be submitted here. A number is given & we are then directed to a big hall. A hall where thousands wait . Many are sitting on the floor.

One needs to keep his/her ears open to locate the call. The call is sounded by an Indian who's pretending to be an American. Oh ! I hear my number. What another queue ? Yes ! the call was for another queue . After standing for another three hours I found that I was the next man.

There are many parallel queues , each queue leads to a window ,each window has an American Or somebody who's not an Indian is sitting. He stares at you , questions you , looks at your file & beware - don't go until you are called .

Many were enthusiastic enough to break the code & were herded back by the security guards.

Hey why is the man crying ? His visa is rejected . Yes I saw many sad faces , drooping shoulders , pleading parents who wanted to visit their children , folded hands ....

"Mr Rawat why do you wan't to go ?"

"Sir , I'm on a business trip to buy servers for my company in India "

" Mr Rawat what if you don't come back ?"

"Believe me Sir I'll come back !!"

"Are you married ?"

" No ! "

After the question and answer session was over I was asked to deposit the second cheque - a sign of acceptance.

Lies , lies & more lies . After all this lies I was successful, who cares. I've the ticket to fly now - to go to heaven .

A trip to Heaven is not easy , its full of hardships & hardships would be many. Isn't this what the saints have been saying for long . Yes they were right ,indeed they were !!

A Trip To Saharanpur

I had the opportunity to have a closer look at a town in Northern India this summer. Saharanpur is a small town situated at a distance of around 180 kms from Delhi. Its a town famous for its awe striking wood carving craftsmanship, ITC paper mill , its fondness for crime ,mangoes , sugarcane ,language & certainly many more things which I am ignoring safely.
The language is rough & outsiders have a hard time adjusting. The climate is hot but a few of my close friends always disagree on this. I'll leave it to the readers good judgment.

I flew to Delhi & decided to board a bus to Saharanpur .I was warned against it by a friend but I decided to give it a try. The distance of 180 kms was covered in four & a half hours . The warm air was making the distance longer . But the flora & fauna around was something which I miss down south. Was surprised to find that at each halt a group of volunteers boarded the bus & were administering polio drops with a lot of vigour. It might be normal in well fed nations but a phenomenon like this in
a developing nation like ours does raise eyebrows.

The dust around reminded me of my village & I was happy to let it stick on my face .I turned brown by the time I left the bus. I reached the town at around 4pm . The heat was there to welcome me but the joy of meeting my old friend Vivek was making me forget the hostile climate.
Vivek's elder brother was getting married & marriage in India are always celebrated with a lot of vigour . The canopy outside helped me recognize his house. Vivek was there smiling , working hard & trying his level best to hide the depleting energy levels in his body with his sharp smile.
Friends to me have always been precious , they come very high on priority & I feel I've been a lucky man to have quite few of this dying race.
Cold water from the hand pump provided me solace from the parching heat , a bath just made my day. Vivek's father is a doctor cum farmer.Its a rare combination but this certainly adds to his enigmatic personality. I tried hard convincing my friend to involve me in some activity but since its almost a sin to make a visitor work he didn't agree.
Marriage means a lot of commotion , children running around , scores of relatives need special attention , food & may more things need to be administered at all times.
The next day was more friendlier, two of my other friends arrived . We were meeting after two years & the growing age had not effecton our memories. We were back in the old days where running on the football field was the order of the day. Dinner at seven was a ritual with our group. “Roti”(Indian bread) with a lot of “ghee” was something we all enjoyed.

The marriage was a simple affair .The food was good & after a long time I had loads of icecream. There were villagers (mostly farmers). Their khadi clothes & a big smile on their face proved that money cannot buy you everything in life .They were all there to bless their friends son , a friend who had left the village a long time ago but since bonds are for ever they were all there to share his happiness .
The groom & the bride dazzled in their clothes .The ceremony got over at around 2 am. (I generally sleep at 9:30 pm ). Ravi , Vivek & myself decide to keep awake & a little persuasion & coaxing made Pankaj join the group. We talked & laughed , remembering the old days is the best thing one can do at times. Hot tea which had all milk & no water & prepared by Vivek's father just made our day.

We greeted the morning sun with a long brisk walk .
Three days of fun & frolic came to an end & it was time to leave. A big packet of sweets was tied to me . We were given a royal farewell & everybody including the groom was out there waving his hand.
Friends are rare & meeting them has become rarer. I wanted to stay much longer for I knew it would be a many more months probably years before I meet them again. Frosts poem always come handy at times “ The woods are lovely dark & deep but I have promises to keep & miles to go ...”

Ravi & I took a train back to Delhi. I discovered that I had been pick pocketed. Had lost all the money in my pocket .Keeping the wallet away from me helps at times & that's the precise reason I lost a part of my belongings. I had kept a few hundreds in my front pocket & had advised the same to Ravi & he cheerfully ignored my advice. The wallet rested peacefully in my bag & I was unable to decide as to whether I should rejoice Or appear gloomy.

Ravi helped me with two twenty rupee notes & that helped me reach my village. The story has a lot more still , keep hanging.

Parents greeted me with a smile as usual & my Mother made it a point to fill half of my plate with ghee .
It was time to leave for Banglore. I left almost two hours before the departure but a jam ensured that I miss my flight. Yes,I missed my flight & wanted to scratch a pole , pull my hair & shout but all this would have had added to my woes.
Wanted to buy a ticket for the next flight but there were no empty seats.

I sat down on a railing near the booking counters , sipped water , dazed the skies & tried again. A cancellation from a passenger made my day. Re-booked my tickets & flew back to Bangalore.

The trip made my wallet poorer by almost twenty thousand bucks but the joy of meeting old friends just didn't allow the sadness to take over me. Friends are precious & all precious things are costly. Thats the way I look at it & that the way its always gonna be till the date I roam the lands.

A trip to Saharanpur needs to end before I miss by office bus.

Empty seats !

Wildlife has always lured me for ages(I am not too old). A visit to California made my day,I returned back with a Canon SLR camera .I must admint that I was quite satisfied with my semi automatic Yashica camera which accompanied me under water , on the hills , it braved the deserts along with me until many of my close friends started teasing me/it , I still feel nostalgic about it .It costed me only 800 Indian rupees (Its American cousin is a wooping 28000).

With the camera in my hand I was fully loaded to enter the jungles. Shimsa, M.M Hills (a Veerapan stronghold, hmm for the ill informed Veeerapan was a dreaded sandalwood smuggler ). Karnataka Toursim Development Corporation conducts various tours around the year. This one was a two day trip starting Saturday morning .

Spending Friday in office was kind of difficult. I was dreaming about the serene landscapes of the western Ghats, the deer running amock , the
peacocks were calling me loud & clear !!

Just about the same week Bangalore was painted with posters of Sharukh & company who were landing in the city for a show. Bizarre stories were
there all over the press. A woman was willing to fish 45000 rupees to meet Sharukh back stage. A boy came down all over from Hyderabad to catch a glimse of is favourite star.

Spending 50000 rupees to see some painted faces sounds crazy for me but I feel others would have wondered as to how I could spend a thousand to see deer running around. Hmm lets leave this for the intelligent to decide .

It was five in the evening & I was all set to leave. A phone call spoilt my day. " The trip is cancelled !!" was the blunt message. " Why ? " I shot back. " Only two seats have been booked, we cannot ply an empty luxury bus."

A few painted faces had won the hearts of many. The animals & birds had lost in a big way. May be they need to hire a marketing guru Or may be
they need to dab some lakme stuff on their face. Who knows !!
For me its a long wait till the seats fill up !!

What a wasted life !

Gaurav (I've not changed the name), clumsy, shabbily dressed lad many years senior to me.His dressing sense was/is weird .

He was(he'z alive but I'm still using 'was', patience) a child prodigy , have heard some real weird stories about him. He was working on a mathematical problem one night, slept without breaking it , woke up at two pm again & cracked it. He later recounted that Goddess Saraswati came in his dreams & helped him have a bite at the problem. I'm sure you'll agree that dreaming about Saraswati is cool but girls do top the chart , any boy's around who say NO ?

His adventures continued , he solved XII standard mathematics problems when he was in class IV, hmm thats too much. He was sure to get into the IIT's & he didn't disappoint his fans . He scored an incredible all India rank(It was somewhere in the eighty's). Got into IIT-Kanpur & enrolled in the Computer Science branch.

I at this junction lost contact with him but my Dad didn't allow me to forget him. "Look at youself, you $#@%! & see Gaurav , you'r a useless creature on earth :( ".Heard he consumed too much liquor there & started loosing his enigma.
After completing his Engineering he joined a Software Company in Ghaziabad(a town near Delhi). He worked there for some time & since it was not Maths he left it & came back home.

Then suddenly we heard that he was writing the India Administrative Service exam, he didn't disappoint his fans again & got through in the first attempt . This time though he landed up with a rank that could pull him only to the Custom's department. He had again chosen Mathematics as one of his subjects. My Dad was no less happy & his craving grew for sons who could become an I.A.S officer.

Close sources later revealed that he wrote the exam again & scored a similar rank much to his/family/good/bad wishers disappointment. He was aiming for the bulls eye, but then he accepted his fate & now I hear he's an officer with the customs department. The average salary is not more than twenty thousand per month but who the hell wants that. The prime attraction is the 'power' that come along, the servants , the pristine white ambassador car with a red light on top of it , the black money , the ... , so little for a guy who deserved much more.

A wasted life which is now poised to be soaked in the corrupt bureaucracy , the babus .. . Mathematics his passion is seen no where(may be a little comes in handy when we count currency).Another mathematician goes awry, never to be heard of again . Not sure if it was his decision Or his parents Or .. but the scientific community did loose a gem.

I'm no Chomsky to propose some grammar & my talent shies away when I look up to him but my heart still feels that he would have been much better if he was to join some research lab or anything that would have given him a bed to develop his mathematical skills so rare to be found. May be he'll sue me for defaming him, but I'm sure I'll muster courage & speak out" What a wasted life !!".