Snow plumes

Image: Namaratha Prasad

In the rocky boulder expanse, snow sprinkled the land be,

you cross the line of insanity, more infinitesimal you feel within.

Clouds cover the highest peaks, heavy with emotion the air be,

crumble your muscles do; distorted, reality is deemed.

Shock,

wonder,

incredulity...

Silence calls from your inner depths,

again and again, 'awaken', it screams...

You breath in the cold straight to your mind, you slow down time.

Far over the limits set in the past, a new realization is found to be.

Now you turn around with alacrity!

Bounding down over the boulders, a look back you take to see,

and plumes of snow fly magically off the peaks.

inside

waiting for the sun to enter the inside

 with imperturbable assurance,

with a tummy heavy and causing lethargy

as it goes about its business,

while gazing at the clear sky

to cleanse the skin of lethargy,

from the future daily run of discovery

and territory marking,

soon it will flop down on the floor

like only a dog can,

on this sunday morning i too shall fall next to him,

soon 'he' will rest his head on me.

a winding path

there is a path, in the tropical forest.

through the crowded leaves.

the tree canopy blocks the sun.

while shiny eyes flicker in the dense foliage,

yes, a path lies in the undergrowth.

to be made.

there is a path, in the swamp.

through the waters, wading.

the feet fall inside the muddy relief.

while weeds inside come alive it seems,

yes, a path lies in the wetlands.

to be tackled.

there is hope, beyond the many doubts.

through the dreary dreams, through trepidation.

the feelings of others are oft used,

to deny our self the chance of relief,

while anticipation turns to apprehension,

yes, a path lies in the mind.

to peace.

Up the forest in Kanchenjunga National Park, Sikkim.

The path made under Tenzing Norgay's directions to reach Kanchenjunga through Goecha La in Sikkim

Beyond 11500 feet... Story 1: The glacier and the eagle

      The crunching of the powdered ice is echoing repeatedly in the mind. With every step, it keeps getting louder. Only a single pair of boots crunch along.

       It's hard to decipher the surface of the glacier. Slippery ice in parts, a powdered snowy slush in places. Sometimes the feet go few inches into the surface, other times its rock hard on the top.  By now the harsh summer sun has made vivid melt patterns in many places. Intricate designs that are now being trampled upon by heavy shoes. The glacier doesn't seem happy. Melted water rivulets keep flowing on the face, crisscrossing the glacier. At places the water dives into the surface ice, disappearing into the unknown.

       Amulya Saxena, is giving no thought to the dangers of walking on the glacier. Aged 29, he is settled in his work, recently, in June 2014, having been promoted as a software analyst at a multinational in Chennai. This morning though, far away from civilization, his mind is in a state of limbo. His fatigued body makes its hundredth stop since starting the descent from the ridge. He looks up behind him. The escarped walls of the glacier's cirque(amphitheater, literally meaning arena in french) again tower above him. The scale of these 1200-1500 feet tall white walls is incomprehensible even while standing right in front of them. His eyes move westward, following the ice walls to the ridge of the mountain peak. He sights a Himalayan Golden Eagle, gliding majestically, high in the blue blue sky.  

       Three hours back, when his will finally did surrender, he opted to not climb higher than the ridge at about 19500 feet above sea level. The summit 600 feet higher still. Twice while ascending the steep incline he had given up on the climb, but somehow he pushed on till the ridge. Not any further, his body decided and the mind readily complied. He then had to descend alone.
       Amulya was looking down on the glacier walls at one point of time. The sun had just risen. He was looking down, when he could keep his eyes open. The descent from the ridge was on hard rocks. The trail hardly visible. The mind asked the body to keep on walking. The legs cooperated for 10-15 steps, before they stopped for another break. Many a time he slipped on the loose soil between the uneven rocks. Using the trekking pole and ice-axe, he balanced his body with his hands while going down. Amulya kept having a recurring thought. He wondered how he climbed this much altitude in the first place.

       On reaching the glacier bed, he did not look for the early opportunity to cross it on firmer ice, just after the ridge decent. It was all dark when his group had made their way up, now he was too exhausted to think straight. He threw his gear, the ice-axe clattered down a few rocks. He sat down and forcibly ate. Two boiled eggs, lots of dry fruits. He then walked on white. Direction less and lost in the enormity of the terrain. The insignificance of his existence kept growing in his mind, the ice crushing below his feet with every step.

       His mind wanders. Transported to a vision from the past. He is 12 years old. He is on a trail in the hilly forest next to the old family farm in central India. The deciduous trees are almost bare. His father is walking a few feet behind him, letting him choose the path to the hill top. He trips on a protruding stone, camouflaged under the fallen leaves on the forest floor. A few scratches to his knees, but he is good. He looks behind, his father is waiting patiently for him to recover, to assess things on his own. He is directed to move on. Its the clear look in his fathers eyes that he most remembers, the strength that his father provides, silently. Amulya finds peace in the forest, with his dad behind him he explores the jungle.
       A couple of kilometers have now been walked on the glacier, zigzagging the terrain while searching for the proper way. He stumbles upon a snake like 4-5 feet wide crack in the ice running across his path, blocking his dazed and directionless slow march. There are brown mud deposits on both the banks, like blood bleeding from a cut. Is it a deep crevasse or just melt water that has made a twisty mini gorge on the glacier? Inside, about 4 feet down the surface, water is gushing around at high speed. 

       He looks down and sees flowing water below the sheet of ice he is standing on. Cracks develop in the ice below his shoes. Amulya suddenly feels great fear, the glacier is now demanding he move away. He cant find the trail to walk back. All seems lost and his muscles freeze, he is unable to move. He has never felt so alone on earth, his eyes scan the big valley for another human being, none to be found. White light starts emanating from the glacier in patches. It beams all the way till the sky. He is blinded through his sunglasses. He falls to the ground. The blue sky is now seen through twitched eyes. He fears being engulfed by the glacier.
       How did his relationship with his father come down to this. He has hardly spoken with him in the past five years. The baseless fights he had during his years of rebellion come to his mind. How he ran away from home without a thought about his parents. How after graduating, he has hardly even bothered to speak with them. He never gave them their due. Never shared what he has now become. Life was not stopping for anyone. He felt a lot of regret building up.
       All seems lost for Amulya, he is hardly able to move. He wants to rest on the ice now. Already he can feel the wetness on his back, the cold slithering up his body.
       Movement.
       Something is falling towards him from high above in the sky. He strains to look at it, frozen in fear. Its the eagle in a dive, it is closing in on him fast. He stares as the eagle. A few ripples of courage make him not want to blink. Ten feet from the ground, it opens its large wings. Time is almost frozen now, all is in slow motion. He sees the pointed claws open. They make eye contact. A piercing gaze meets his eyes. The blinding white lights cease. Just as Amulya braces for impact the eagle swoops up and flies to the north east, a gush of wind hits his face. He gets on his feet, fast. He jumps the narrow gorge. He leg slips while landing at the other side. The ice-axe is hurled into the snow, it lodges into the ice. He clings with one hand on the cold slope, prone on the ground again. He recovers. Adrenaline is running high within him. He runs behind the eagle, not wanting to loose it from his sight. High and far above, the eagle lands on a high rock jutting out the top of the mountain slope. Breathless but charged up he keeps running, dodging obstacles of ice. Amulya finally crosses the glacier. He stops to gather his bearings.
       A hundred feet away he sees a typical man made stone pile, marking the way. The re-emergence of the trail? Another stone pile comes into his focus further away. He has found the way.
       He looks up to find the eagle.
       It is nowhere to be seen.

       Amulya can hardly remember what happened during the remaining down hill trek. After 3 more hours of walking he takes another turn on the trail, a new valley opens up. He finally sees the base camp (at 16300 feet) in the distance, about 500 feet below him. Exhaustion and a weird awakening form a heady concoction in his mind. He sits down and surveys the scattered tents below. He sleeps at the turn for half and hour before resuming the final walk to the camp.
       All he can think about is getting back to civilization.
       All he can think about is making a phone call to talk to his father.

Story 1.

simplicity!!!

class!

a dear friend designed this logo for my architectural consultancy.

been using it since 2009.

a bridge too far

photo-shopped it is (picture by vikrant sharma)

yes, it is a leap of faith.

do i make it to the other side,

or a change of clothes is in order?

have i timed my jump right,

or did i ninja cartwheel too soon?

while in this frozen moment,

i think about making the landing...

my feet brace for the imminent...

while in this frozen moment,

the past is behind me...

the exhilaration is still not lost.

dead end

there is an anxiety in anticipation,

threads connect over a few conversations.

 

is there a futility in expectation,

many defenses need to be ruptured yet.

there is a vague comfort in patience,

the will of a soul can not be forced upon?

is there any genuine reflection,

the sands have slipped in between the fingers before.

there are moods that hold fort,

there is a tension in unison,

is there a joy in surrender...

___

the anxiety sinks in the ocean of calm,

the expectation doesn't return with the tide.

while reflections off the water ripples, dance around in gay abandon,

the stones lie on the stream bed, waiting patiently.

pic source: unknown via internet

walking high

my first proper trek. had the most surreal experience! hard to explain with words and pictures.
a trek to goecha la, sikkim. we made it to view point one at 15100ft, starting from yuksom at 5570ft...
heaven found!! the mighty kanchenjunga standing tall above us...

nature

fell upon this wonderful website, zenpencils.com while looking for a quote from terence mckenna.

keep up the good work Gavin. inspirational ideas given a new visual form.

here is the link for the full illustration: http://zenpencils.com/comic/120-terence-mckenna-nature-loves-courage/

Politics in real time.

Incumbency and the coming of age of technology, together, have made more supporters for the oppositon. Secularism is a byproduct, exploited.

satiation episode 1

we live to eat!
will try and do a few food blogs. hopefully this is just the first of many.

four days back, while i was in mumbai for the latest episode of 'weekend @ mumbai' series (the best way to unwind, explode and combust, all together, without burning a hole in the pocket), with the most gracious hosts swati j sharma(aka moto) and vijay sharma(aka v) (my sis and bro in law :P ), i was given the option of re-trying japanese food.
let me tell you, i had tried the sushi/maki-roll at busaba, colaba a few months back, and found it interesting. but i didn't really appreciate the relatively under seasoned taste and also where this cold, damp and bland food was coming from. not that i have been to japan (i love their architecture) in the interim, and met these rigid, efficient, righteous people, who have the most peculiar way of expressing things. but i was game to explore it further.
we arrived at kofuku, bandra for lunch. koufuku in japanese might mean hapiness or welfare (source not certain). i left all the ordering to moto and v, letting them take the trouble. first on the list was a pot of masumi sake, philadelphia maki roll, pork gyouza, shrimp tempura maki roll and kakuni (braised pork). if any one was wondering why i didn't order on my own, hopefully that query is answered. the sake was served in small cups, cold. it was light and pleasant, little dry and a mix of acidic and sweet. the aftertaste was good. first to be served were the maki-rolls. we mixed our wasabi and soy sauce and dipped the rolls in them. the acidity from the soy and sting from wasabi is the first to hit you, but disappears soon enough. then the cold and subtle flavours of the sushi rice, shrimp/salmon and nori fill your mouth. it is all very different from the normal fare of other cuisines, and it was good. the temperature and texture of the dish are unusual to say the least. the pork gyouza was basically a dim sum. it was also yum, spicy if you add the condiments available on the table. the kicker though was the pork kakuni! easily the best dish of the day, tender, mouth melting pork belly that can be had with chopsticks (i can't though). this was divine, and heavy. the sake had by now permeated within our blood supply. we ordered the bulgogi korean style and japanese curry rice with pork for mains. the dishes turned out to be good and carried the flavours that the appetizers had developed. we were left fulfilled and with a surprisingly satiated feeling with the whole experience, the whole process had put us at ease, calmed us down and then pampered us thoroughly. of course my hosts were not done, we walked into the opposite building and had 1 hour massage sessions. koufuku!

three days back, along with my hosts, my eldest cousin bobby dada, mallika vaini and their son anish and neha akka, next to youngest in the group (no points for guessing who the youngest is. but i remind you that age is just a number, especially since i turned 30 recently), a get together was planned. the restaurant was already identified by mallika, as the meeting joint imbiss, colaba, a german eatery. imbiss in german means snack. there is an imbiss in bandra too, but we skipped it. maybe because we love to go to town on a weekend, or because they serve no alcohol at bandra. i guess it was the former reason. ;)
i had done this cursory google search and was already salivating with the idea of a hardcore non vegetarian place with a variety of meats. in my city indore, non veg for most of the people starts and ends at chicken and mutton. hence the supply for more exotic food eludes me and is only partially fulfilled, when the hosts in this article fly down to indore with bacon and other frozen porkies.

the writing is on the wall @ imbiss, colaba.

here is what we ordered:
starters:
signature sausage platter
meat platter
pork spare ribs (2 plates)
pork cake starters
salad:
spicy sausage and cheese salad
drinks:
beer pints
gin and tonic
main course:
beef roast
pork roast
chorizo rice
kassler
ham slice with brown gravy
grilled pork tenderloin

(pause)
*applause*
(pause)

and the food was awesome. the pork spare ribs were demolished in minutes. the meat was tender and falling off the bones. the gravy was yummy. the pork sausages were great, chicken ones average. the meat platter was smoked well and good to taste. the pork cakes were fried well but were a little bit salty. everyone had a bit of the salad, just as an eye wash/feel less guilt option, it was okay.
the main course kept coming in groups of two, hence we all tasted all the dishes. it gets a bit confusing to describe all the dishes. we had our share of meaty, slow roasted, fatty, barbecued, tender, chewy and grilled meat (i may have missed a few adjectives). the rice was spicy and delicious. all the portions were very generous, and the pricing was surprisingly affordable. also, no wonder the germans have so much beer, cause it really washes down well with the food. we were full, in our tummy and in the mind. all in all a wonderful experience, highly recommended to all meat lovers. in spite of a valiant effort by bobby dada to try and finish off all the food, we had to pack a bit of it. not just imbiss(es) (snacks) but we had more like a full whole course meal. dish of the meal was split between the pork spare ribs and the chorizo rice. but animal of the day was surely porky the pig. pork rules!! stopping at marine drive and having naturals ice cream was the perfect finishing touch to the trip.

a few other foodie mentions, gorged, while in mumbai. the chicken sandwich at candies, pali hill, always in short supply. the melt in your mouth, red velvet cream cheese cup cake, at lsd(love sugar dough), khar west. the soothing cinnamon coffee at coffee bean and tea leaf, juhu, although the deserts weren't great there. had a very late lunch at silver beach cafe in juhu, which was very good too.

and a special mention to the the pancakes with maple syrup and scrambled egg that moto prepared for breakfast one day. 'greasy' food cures hangovers fast.
three days in mumbai, an absolute treat to my gastronomic desires! thank you hosts!

satiation to the fullest.

threads

what connections do we make in life?
what life is rendering; the making of bonds?
how we begin and sustain relationships?
when does a chance meeting begin immortal love?
how best friends, never again meet for life?

a letter written on a sultry summer night,
lies forgotten in a trunk, full of mothball odor.
the regret however is never shown in person,
the past somehow remembered as a blessing.

an old man selling out old junk, finds a carton,
in his loneliness a tear escapes.
he sifts through the photos and letters,
and life is stronger in the aftermath, a little...

a two year old sister carries her new born brother around,
as they grow old, they teach each other the world.
far or together, their love will only ever grow stronger,
always their lovers will be jealous of the bond they share.

why do blood relations remain so pure? or not?

the son of a dead man, who now is a man himself,
judges his father's life, in the tears of happiness people still have for him.
the man spent all his life, giving laughter and happiness,
the son can never maybe understand his peace.

gone are the days when connectivity was a blessing,
where people waited for any information, patiently for days.
now, in these 'seconds' of instant gratification,
restless desires have given in to much impatience.

lovers, long apart, fight and argue each day over the phone,
when in the same city, rate ego higher than affection,
and don't even call... and sulk and long.
but in a moment of magic, all is well, maybe momentarily.

acquaintances fall in love, is it capricious?
beauty is found where there was nothing before,
whatsapp messages makes your heart skip a beat,
but just a while ago, they used to be from somebody else.

two people meet and sparks fly all around,
they consummate and cherish and paint the town.
two people 'invest' in each other their time,
they live and love and bond and die.

i keep making new connections, never possible before...
but is this who i really am?
is the answer a grimmer reality or a happy illusion??
how can i bare my soul to but only one,
to connect, to love.

somehow, the truth is not waiting to be answered...

i bare my soul only to myself.

a constructor of worlds

Architecture and war are not incompatible. Architecture is war. War is architecture.

I am at war with my time, with history, with all authority that resides in fixed and frightened forms.

I am one of millions who do not fit in, who have no home, no family, no doctrine, no firm place to call my own, no known beginning or end, no "sacred and primordial site."

I declare war on all icons and finalities, on all histories that would chain me with my own falseness, my own pitiful fears. I know only moments, and lifetimes that are as moments, and forms that appear with infinite strength, then "melt into air."

I am an architect, a constructor of worlds, a sensualist who worships the flesh, the melody, a silhouette against the darkening sky. I cannot know your name. Nor you can know mine.

Tomorrow, we begin together the construction of a city.

from: War and Architecture by Lebbeus Woods(1940-2012)

between tungnath and chandrashila

image via: Google Earth, photo by: Swati J Sharma

the views on google earth are pretty awesome when seen on the laptop,

but they are like at least 1250 times less exciting as the real deal.

there is no hail while you climb,

there is no relief felt from the hot tea sipped inside a hut,

you don't need to wear 'make do' raincoats, or feel the chill,

you don't get to the highest shiva temple in the world,

and it doesn't start to snow, the first of the season...

you don't start climbing further to chandrashila peak,

hoping to get a glimpse of mountains clad in snow,

there is no vista that's more than large enough,

there is no air purer than that you breath,

and the mind, cant be moving and at peace, both together...

there is no new path discovered to go downhill,

one where you will trek alone, a promise of new,

you don't trudge up and up and up,

you don't estimate the downhill trek time required,

before the sun sets...

you don't walk the face of the mountain,

and turn a ridge to see new paths afar,

you don't wait, hoping for the clouds to dissipate,

so that their motion reveals new peaks afar,

and just when you are about to trek back to base,
slowly the mountains clad in snow are revealed...

you don't feel excited that you got this far,

in spite of the doubts that crept up in between, 

your breathing doesn't stop still and so doesn't time,

there is no grandeur that is not explicable,

you don't feel as one with the earth...

the views on google earth are pretty awesome when seen on the laptop,
but, lets rephrase, they are like at least 12050 times less exciting as the real deal.

if i ever get back to this place, plan to see the peaks at sunrise...
nature will always amaze...

photo by: Swati J Sharma

hope to blog about the down hill trek,

it was, if possible, even more freakin awesome.

The EARTH is my TEMPLE..

source: Earth 2012 by Vollstad Wallpapers