sunshine and sunflowers

Uttarkashi, November 2003.

M and me seated amidst a cluster of sunflowers. Would you believe it if I say this picture was taken by a farmer? We joined him and his family at work in their farm, and dug out potatoes from moist earth for a couple of hours.

All this while we were waiting in some lost village for a bus to take us back to the nearest town. Apparently, buses only plied once in three or four hours in these regions. So by some stroke of luck, we ended up potato farming. Don't let all that sunshine deceive you. It was quite cold up there, and according to our farmer friend, by January, his farm is full of snow.

For a long time after that, I wanted to become a potato farmer. Have a piece of land in the mountains, live in a small house with a stream running nearby, have five dogs for company, and a bicycle to take me to nearby towns and villages (so I can buy other vegetables too, instead of ballooning up on home-grown potatoes!).

Breaking News

I cringe when I watch television news these days. It's almost like I, as a viewer, am embarassed. The moment the camera is switched on, our news anchors and presenters switch off their humility metre. "Modesty, what's that? We are here to promote our channel!"

Good ol' Barkha Dutt. From the days of being everyone's favourite anchor/reporter, she's now turning out to be everyone's favourite whipping girl. "Why does she have to hyperventilate like that in front of the camera?," is a commonly heard refrain these days. Whoever watched her attempt a P2C in front of 10 Janpath yesteray amidst all that chaos would know what I'm talking about. "Let's not forget, Ms. Gandhi refused to comment on her stand on the controversial ordinance. Infact, I was the one who asked the question..." We all know who asked the question. Do we dare mistake that voice?

One particular Breaking News tag sent me into peals of laughter last year. "Karisma Kapoor and Sanjay Kapur to separate..." Hell, for all the pains you guys took, they are back in holy matrimony, and happily so. Another cringe- moment came when I was watching Sagarika Ghose anchoring a late-night show the other day, where she was interviewing the slain Priyadarshini Mattoo's father. Now, we all know nothing can be worse than justice denied. Those who survived a tragedy need nothing more to dampen their spirits than an unfair judicial system. But does that justify sensationlism? I couldn't believe my ears when Ms. Ghose said, "Mr. Mattoo, there was not a single dry eye in our office when we read your story in the Express..." Whatever happened to good old objective, non-sensational, to-the-point journalism?!

The "impact" stories are not targeted for the goodwill of the common man or the audience. They are on screen just so that all those beautifully edited bytes have an impact on the TRP ratings. Period.

Give me my newspapers anyday. Or, bring in Rini Khanna and Sunit Tandon. While on the topic, do read this. It's hilarious!

Ganga mein anth

Harshil

We were on our way to Gangotri and Gaumukh, where the Ganges takes its roots. The six-hour ride in a rickety green bus packed to the roof with tourists and pilgrims, through the long, winding, hairpin curved and narrow routes of the himalayas, is to say the least - an experience. It was my first time, and to be honest, the winding routes turned my insides upside down.

Everytime i looked down the gorges and saw the white sands and the blue water, i wanted to jump right out of the window and pitch a tent nearby. From the distance, i saw a row of green tents along the banks of the Ganga, and further down, a green bridge. A few minutes later, the bus stopped and i heard someone bang on the bus door, "sab theek to hain na?" When i peeped out, i saw a couple of army men, inquiring with the bus driver if all the passengers were okay, and if the journey was trouble free.

I'm telling you people, there's something that comes over you when you're in the borders of our country, and run into the people who guard them. (no, i am not having a RDB hangover!) Harshil seemed like someplace straight out of an artist's canvas. Surrounded by mountains, the sun barely able to reach the valley, harshil with its maple and apple trees, is a trekker's delight. A humble little buddhist temple makes the picture complete (you can see it there in the picture, behind the pole.) We spent time meeting folks from the village and biting into juiciest of green apples, and then moved on to Gangotri. Now, the routes around these regions are so narrow that there are fixed time slots for every single bus that maneuvers these roads. A couple of hours here and there could lead to busses or other vehicles facing each other head-on, with no place to reverse. Which is what happened to us.

On a steep and narrow curve, our bus found itself head-on with a truck carrying rocks. Since the truck didn't have any space to reverse, it was left to our bus driver to do the same. My eyes popped out and jaws refused to close when i looked out of the window and saw what we were onto. Reversing downhill on the narrowest of routes, with the Ganges deep down there??? This guy better be good at it!

I realised I was not the only one jutting my head out of the window. Behind me, I heard an old lady wail, "hai, bhagwan, hamari anth to Ganga ke teer mein hi hogi." Of course, that was not to be.We reached Gangotri at dusk, and I got out of the bus thinking my nose felt wierd. My friend told me I had snow-blackness, which happens when you're exposed to extreme cold.

At 1 degree C, what else did I expect!

Gypsies

Ever wondered where they came from? I was always curious to know. I especially like their tents. Comfortable may be not, but cozy, yes.

I also liked the way they cook. A mud pot mostly, on a small fire. Whatever it was, the scent sure is tempting (the foodie that I am!).

Here's a whole lot of gyan on them.

children of the himalayas.

location: a lost mountain, some 12,000 ft above sea level, right up there in uttarkashi.

that's me with the children of the himalayas, on top of a mountain made only for mountain goats, i'm sure! three years down, i still wonder how i managed it up there on my legs. and these kids live there.

well, our guide's home was right there too. now i wish i'd taken a pic of his home. just to show how precariously his tiny li'l house was built over that precipitious mountain hill.

PS: this blog post, written last year, is from an old blog of mine.

Researching a tiger from an elephant-top

J is an environmentalist who is busy researching tigers at the Kanha National Park in Madhya Pradesh. He is also one of the finest wildlife photographers I have met in recent times. How I went green every time I heard of his escapades in Gir forest in Gujarat and the Valley of Flowers in Uttar Pradesh (If I got the state wrong, pardon me).

M says he's one of the most dedicated souls in the field. Look who's talking! I still remember the evening when M and me rode the two-wheeler to IISc to welcome J when he'd just set foot in Bangalore. And how all three of us rode on one bike in the middle of a busy junction, straight into the traffic cop's waiting arms (Shelled out 300 bucks and half an hour of arguments). We sat eating yummy roadside idlies at Commercial Street another evening, and talked and laughed about nothing in particular.

And why am I talking about all this? Because I was suddenly reminded of the tiger-researcher thanks to his brother's blog. Here's the link. It feels so good to see that there are some people on this planet who are not taken in by the trappings of a material life.

How often do I come across people who are really bothered about the disappearance of wild cat or a rare herb in the forest? Very rarely. And this post is dedicated to them. God bless!

circa 2014

will the new york times ever go offline? will the fourth estate cease to exist? a world without the press??? obviously exaggeration.

however, robin sloan's well-crafted flash documentary, epic 2014, depicts an interesting vision of the status of media and news in the next decade. it talks about the future of personalised news and other information sources. already blogs and other web sources have taken over online news pages.

many believe they got a much better coverage of the tsunami and relief effforts taken up afterwards on blogs by volunteers rather than on news websites or print mediums.

the docu was made in 2004 if i am correct. interesting it is.

pottery

every little touch counts. in the beginning, i sat at the wheel, thinking, "oh well, how difficult can it be?" the overconfidence backfired and my mould of clay splattered.

that's when jayaprakash, our instructor decided i needed some disciplining. "look at your hands and the wheel, not at what someone else is doing!" i gulped but did as he said. the clay did take some shape, but not what i imagined.

i realise we take our craftsmen for granted. there's a lot of toil and sweat behind a beautifully moulded pot. and it takes years of training and perseverence for them to reach where they have.

they are back!

it was appendicites. the mother had it. but they are back now, safe and sound, and have ironed out my worries.