Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Mall road nainital

It is a small shop selling biscuits . In this cold the couple had lit a fire. They have two dogs. Gives them whatever cooked at home. The dogs came to enjoy the fire. In this picture one just left to check on some shouting. on mobile

Monday, December 28, 2009

Naina devi temple 1200

Dedicated to naina devi. There were sparrows in the temple feeding on puffed rice. Very clean. There was a crippled girl outside who refused any sweets as she is on fast to please god. Is being devout mean in practical.

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Sunset restaurant on road from ranikhet 1430

Fry dry rice. That was not a new item. Spelling error for this restaurant has a menu for show. They literally force you to choose between sad looking paneer a sadder plate of rice. Yogurt was good. Food was just for the stomach. You are not supposed to tease your taste buds.

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On route to gadur a dog

The dogs are local breed somewhere near am Alaskan malmut a lab a black samoyed. . Dharchula is the source me there dogs. Also munshiyari.watered down version of bhutiya.

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Kausani 0713

The sun is stumbling on the slopes of the mountains. Each ridge dabs a spot of sunlight lotion preparing for the day. The sun kisses the pines and the oaks. Hands numb with cold.
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Bhairav nath temple on road from ranikhet 1350

I do not know why gods want to sit at the top. I mean does he want a better view or wants to test the mettle of his disciples.

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Standing before lake 2117.

This is hills with a lake. The string of lights that dot the lake cast a shimmering yellow fountain on the lake waters. The cold comes up to shake my hands. An old woman selling boiled eggs warns her hands on the kettle

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Tibetian market nainital 1330

Pine comes varnished, tarnished into a show piece To add spice to the package some have value addition done. Comes are now in techni colour red and blue. And to add some icing to the package you have different cones nailed to the same dead branch. Dead revisited.

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Sunset restaurant on road from ranikhet 1430

Fry dry rice. That was not a new item. Spelling error for this restaurant has a menu for show. They literally force you to choose between sad looking paneer a sadder plate of rice. Yogurt was good. Food was just for the stomach. You are not supposed to tease your taste buds.

on mobile

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Nainital hotel regency 1656

Up aof down through oaks pines and cedars nainital appears in a choked road. Amidst the cars a lake appears in ripples of mists and monkeys. Wisps of mist move around like the crooked witch on a broom. Night grows in

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On way to ranikhet 1112

The sun striped shoes look down the serpentine road. A red faced monkey takes a stroll. Terraced green fields

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Saturday, December 26, 2009

Malta and kinu on route to gadur district bageshwar 1400

The fruit is orange in colour. Grows abundantly in kasauni. But due to poor rains the harvest is poor. Very juicy. Served with black salt and pepper. Tangy. Kumayoni fruit .

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In conversation with a driver kausani 2000 hrs

This guy had finished twelve. Had seen colleges while participating in rally. So decided to earn and not waste family wealth. Drives a wagon r. Manager his own expenses and sometimes buys things for his family. Not married as cost of gold too high. Also cost of sugar and dal. So his family is his father uncle and aunt. Has farmland that grows potatoes (twenty rupees kg ) that runs the family. Electricity bill is two hundred fifty in two months ( no ac required cooking gas available goes to sleep at ten switching off lights ). Tried to work for two months in delhi but ran away for the sweat . Proud that his state has latest cars. No old cars to pollute. Free medical facility. Got mobile and dish tv. Thinks that no poor can stay here. The winter clothes and equipments are costly. Worrised that roads and tourists spoiling the nature

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Blossom hotel kausani 1756

The himalayas disintegrated into a smudge of baby pink and blue. Then suddenly it was just a pale blue sketch. A half moon cast a shy light. Logs me pear pine and oak burn casting in red sparks dancing among the licking flames. The fiery tongues of flame cast an orange glow on a clutch of faces gathered together by nature.

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Friday, December 25, 2009

On road to Kausani 1032

When you do not have plain land to stack hay the only wrtion is to stack inadvyedo used branches. I thought of big nests. Lating almorah was a blessing. A very vocal group had descended in the hotel.
The first thing that hit you is the smell of fish. Twenty rooms packed vociferously devouring fish rice combo . Like nomads they carry their cooking and cook around. Tourists hand held by tourist agency. Travelling in kumayun bong ishtyle. Dadas and boudis all looking alike mummified in shawls. Bhogoban
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Kausani 1226

It seems like a child cut out pasted on a sky blue marble paper. The himalayas.And on these cut out of the mountains somebody has carelessly dropped icing sugar. The powdery sugar has stuck at the tops and then dripped down on the dark blue slopes. A few pieces of white scoops of clouds lie in suspension casting a light blue shades on the top. A faint moon hangs around. A pair of himalayan vultures circle above. The snow line ends in brown slopes. Then the blue green mountains stretch each behind the other to lie down on the brown valley floor the silence lost in the commercial lust. Welcome to kausani

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25th December Almorah

One day does not make any difference. But one year does. You are supposed to become wealthier smarter fatter sharper more furry more practical than what you are. So between yesterday and today welcome toe aged version of myself. Happy birthday to myself

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Thursday, December 24, 2009

Binsar kumayun forest

Indians think a lot. They worry about future and when their expectation are not met they are sad. A guide from a village standing at five thousand feet on a tree covered mountain top. He is a nature guide guiding people in mountains. A thick white cloud holds the himalayas to its bosom. Moss covered oak trees line along the route. A black faced lemur comes to meet. Few white faced tourists stand and stare. Green pristine valleys. Thick pine covered slopes. Wondered about the trees that silently stand in the cold waiting patiently for the forest fires to light their pyres.
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Six thirty hotel himsagar almorah

David lost to Goliath in the post biblical scenario. The puny room heater chuckles in the omnipresent cold. Enclosed in three layers of blanket i stare at the slice of morning light climbing on the ceiling. It is a pale serene blue that has now broken down into a diffused glow. Frosted glass panes stare at the pock marked slopes. From a purely gastronomic point of view god appears to have applied a spoonful of sunlight on the slopes. Learnt a new word bandh makhkhan. It transpired it is a piece of bun sliced in half with a dollop of butter. Queens english meta morphosis. God save the languago

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Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Glory restaurant Almorah UK 1400

First thing to learn or rather unlearn that uk is not always god rate the queen. It is this green brown striped hills place where the sun shines brightly and the silver blue mist sleeps on the mountain lap. A clock tower of eighteenth century stands with the pigeons paused in time with SK Painted on the silent face. And there are the inevitable menu cards painted outside that covers the gamut of italian to makki di roti. Thin roads choked with fat cars doing tango, roads that climb mountains houses that dot the slopes like pimples on a teenager cheek. The cold embraces the place till the warmth seeps out. Almorah
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28 km from almorah 0722

The hills are old. Cobwebs of mist cling to then. Some spill over on road. We are following a mountain river mostly dried up with white rocks strewn. Slices me rocks jut out 45 degrees to ground. Signs of landslide. Now the mist is rolling down the slopes. Now it is the rock face on one side. And a grey oblivion on another. Its like silence. The absence of sound does not mean there is nothing. Some white plaster me paris pieces tinged pink amidst a cape of silver mist. The Himalayas. Proud majestic serene pristine in defiance to the world around.

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On road to almorah 0535

The first thing you notice that the ears sms out. Twisting roads. Total darkness. Twin headligts punching yellow trees and hansging greens. Climbing up. Sleepy .
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Somewhere near lalkuah station in ranikhet express 0429

The train has two distinct rolling actions. You can feel them when you lie down. One is along the axle when your cg travels from your head to your waist. The other is along your rib cage. I wonder which has the snporific effect. It is now cold. Not the type that slaps you and leaves you stunned. But the type that befriends you slowly till you feel the numbness in bones. Welcome to uttaranchal.

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Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Old delhi railway station 2212

A station is a common denominator. Whether you drive in a BMW or catch an auto you end up in the midst of mass humanity. Humow bagged parcels source and destination unknown lying in desolate despair . Same kiosks selling same packs. Only the language on the sign board changes. Luggage and people coupled in holy matrimony. Fog lights turning the sky an orange shade. The disembodied voice over the mike announces in the same peculiar way that challenges one auditory properties. Another night. Another train

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Pizza hut delhi 1643

A different scenario. An intense wife on a blackberry. Her bored husband staring blankly at the glass. A young couple more interested in each other than the pasta. A IIT scholar struts in his jacket proclaiming his mental acumen. A colourful eve towing in the intellectual wake. A mid fourty couple pouring over the calories. Welcome to the country capital

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Somewhere near Aligarh 0919

It is now a case of full blown sunlight. The birds are now flying in double array. Long lazy shadows on the fields. Green blue trees nested in corners. A bewitched husband immortalizes his wife in bits and bytes. The sky is a maze of white and blue with a tinge of brown. Some casually dressed eucalyptus contemplate by the rail side. Morning has broken like another morning.

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Tundla junction morning 0813

A series of red bricked houses huddled together in cold. Shafts of golden sunlight slicing the dimness of a sleepy station. Yellow fields again with the horizon lost in a blue haze. The couple in front dab sun screens in unision. Beauty is really skin deep. The metallic grey blue sky has a spattering of black flakes as some birds take flight. A red bus with bittu written meanders along the mustard fields. Wordsworth's Daffodils indian avtaar

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Six am somewhere near kanpur

Am unfamiliar way of sleeping has its perks. You can hardly sleep but you get to see glimpses of the birth of the sunrise. It is an incremental fading out of the blackness into a melange me pale blue a tint of pink and a misty grey from which the trees stand as zombies stuck unsure in a swirling swathe of cold fog. As the pink deepens the stripped green and brown fields materialise like houdini magic. Good morning.

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Monday, December 21, 2009

Nine fifty four somewhere in bihar

Once upon a time the grandmother used to sing lullaby. Now the train taketh over. I guess the gentle jerk is reminiscent more of the pre natal womb experience that lulls us in the false security that all is well. Anyway this rhythm somehow throws everybody in their own contemplation. While the husband in front was busy with the mobile the wife entered a motion induced stupor and the discussions collapsed into silence. Its actually a conspirational silence am uneasy wait for dinner -an excuse to lie down and stare at the blue and white bland fresco of the train walls. Imagination at its worst. Amen.

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Seven thirty seven somewhere near asansol

In a cynical twist of fate you land up facing the same predicament from where you were taking leave. A couple in front has of all topics decided to discuss steel making and grain structure. I wonder how it feels discussing something so interesting in such a charming atmosphere. I mean the antiseptic blue of the berths and the blue green curtains would surely make all of us ramgorur chana if not morons searching for nirvana in steel grain size. Life is beautiful.

Station on 21st december time 1817 hrs

There is a sense of helplessness when you lose your specs. A sense of disorientation results when the world you know takes on a hazy appearance. In a way it is funny when you see a face you know turns into a specimen of homo sapiens. An abject study of human behaviour per se. It will be interesting travelling with a different set of co ordinates.