I went to Ladakh. I left Pune on the 6th, took a train to Delhi, spent a couple of days in Gurgaon, took a bus to Manali, spent a few days there, took another bus to Leh, spent a few days there and then returned to Pune via Manali and Delhi on the 23rd.
It was beautiful.
Now for the unabridged version.
Its funny how travelling has transformed into what it is today. The experience is more or less the same but the communication has become very crucial.
So I went to Ladakh. It is sincerely amazing, especially in its aesthetics. I also liked Manali very much and definitely recommend it to anyone. My intention was to write down the details of my journey, like a log book, in the hope that something good and inspired would come of it. I'm happy to report that it indeed did spur some beautiful stuff. Ignore the rest of the rant.
You've been warned :)
Oh, and I should add: as an avid computer-user, ergo - typist, the act of physically writing with a pen in a book was an experience in itself. It's a brilliant tool to extract the raw stuff. I find that writing in boxes like this gives the unconvicted author plenty of opportunities to edit and some times (and you might agree) leads to over-produced content. That said, writing in a book is fresh and hardly gives you a chance to look at what you've written, let alone understand it. Or maybe I'm speaking for myself here, but I took full liberty to scribble incomprehensibly so that the reading later on turned more interesting.
And boy, it did!
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6th July - Pune. 0300 hours.
All packed. This bag is awesome. I looked underneath to find a zipper that unfolds a large sheet of tarp that functions as an umbrella! So neat. Thanks, Anuj!
This trip is going to be LEGEND
6th July - Train. 1220 hours.
... ARY.
I found a theme
I think.
Through the lens
Capsules of red light filter the delicate notes
Into a complexion of astute Peachfulness.
Bass lines quiver and linger
And pulverize the naked moss into memory.
9th July - Manali. 2155 hours.
So I was in Delhi for a couple of days. That was fun and it gave me a chance to realize that in spite of being away from the city for 3 months, everything is as clear as yesterday. Or last week.
Moving on to Manali though. What-the-fuck? This place is gorgeous. You've got beautiful mountains and snow-covered peaks in the distance. Rapids and rocks, multicultural stuff, yaks!
And an unparalleled acceptance of hashish.
11th July - Keylong. 2355 hours.
Shitty place. If you're coming through here, you may as well go 20km further and stay at Jispa. Whatever, it's only a night; but the HPTDC (Himachal Pradesh Tourism Development Corporation) is definitely very disappointing.
The weather, however, is great - I love it. The trip from Manali so far has been eventful, to say the least. Picturesque as hell and all that, but because of some unforeseen circumstances to do with land and slides, Rohtang Pass was blocked and the lot of us were made to trek over 3kms up a mountain!
Exhausting stuff, even though the air is very clear here. This trek was an absolute highlight, not soon forgotten - especially since I was carrying the massive bag I mentioned in the beginning of this story. But I suppose it was fun and besides, I felt very healthy :)
The journey after has been troublesome because we've been stuffed into the wrong side of a smaller bus. I vehemently discourage you from doing the HPTDC gig.
Rent a car or best yet - an enfield!
15th July - Leh. 2025 hours.
I'm sitting at a cafe by myself. Just ordered a chocolate cinnamon croissant at one of the MANY German styled bakeries this place seems to be flooded with.
Leh has been superb, despite the lack of Confluencing. I'm sure the music would have made it fabulous, though :(
Highlights:
1. The people - amazingly friendly, for the most part. Especially our driver-friend, Namgyal, who felt offended when we paid him extra. That was until we assured him it was "khushi se".
2. The landscape - honestly, so beautiful it is annoying! You are constantly under pressure to be taking it all in... enjoying the breathtaking view of the mountains and the hills and the rivers and the terrain and the blah blah... Aargh!
But then you take a deep breath and revisit images of your city in your head and everything is peachy again.
I rented an Enfield today! Picked an old-school-gears-on-the-right, maroon coloured geriatric. Why? It seemed more authentic. Thunderbirds are a dime a dozen here although I'm not sure if I'm still happy with my decision.
Riding through the hills on NH 1D past all the empty scape and army stuff was sensational. Every corner I took with that wretched beast added to the overall stud feel.
Awesome day. Started by visiting the Ancient Palace and was guided by an exceptionally quiet and cute little ten year old to-be-monk whose name I cannot recall/pronounce.
This place is pretty incredible and rightly up there amongst the world's favourite spots but you have to take the initiative (also money) to get out and ride, raft and revel.
Ok, on to number 3.
Have you ever been asked to pick between the beach and the mountains, when asked about ideal holiday destinations?
Well, pick no more. We found what I can only describe as paradise.
Picture a wide river flowing through a valley.
Picture sitting at the soft beach, watching the river flow by.
Picture rocky hills all around, speckled by patches of green trees.
Now zoom out, and picture the mountains in the distance, all covered in snow.
All the while dipping your toes into PURPLE (what?) sand. Man.
This place was/is exquisite.
And we found it accidentally, like all good things.
Beyond the Alchi temples and frescos, there's a path that will take you there. Purple beach, soft sand, wild flowers, brown hills, snow peaks in the distance and ice-cold water flowing like an untamed body of Fucking A.
Phew.
P.S: Why does the power go out so often here?
The croissant was alright. I think the food is unremarkable, or remarkable in that way.
18th July - Manali. 1207 hours.
We rented an Innova back to Manali. (Highly recommended)
The journey was easily better than the way there and we got to stop at every place we felt like - including TangLang La Pass at midnight to take a picture! The cold was biting.
I learnt two words in Leh. "Juley" which is pretty popular and you're bound to pick it up. It means "hello" or "good day" because you can say it whenever. It's definitely a great way to feel like you're fitting in.
The other word is "Kathaks" which I'm not sure of the literal translation but my understanding of it is to describe the white snow and the glaciers and how essential water is to life. Kathaks is a traditional scarf given to people as a means to welcome them.
Mine was given to me by a Bhikku Sanghasena - the founder president of the Mahabodhi International Meditation Centre. Now before I go ahead, let me affirm that I mean no disrespect to this man or his faith or to anything for that matter. I really like and admire him and applaud his service to humanity. I am expressing my opinions and their background lies in my critical approach to things in general, especially spiritual and religious topics. *Peace*
So yes, Bhikku. He is a great, tall man who reeks of positive energy and careful speech. Smiled throughout the conversation.
And why wouldn't he? He had everything a man could want, I imagine. Besides the bare necessities, he lives in luxury, has the view of the Himalayas outside his window, gets to wear super comfortable clothes and robes, has people waiting on him hand and foot.
And best of all, his voice is recorded and revered by everyone.
The things he'd say are put up on walls like epigraphs of holy script.
He is a wise man. Like any other wise man. Except willingly bald and using the power of his spirit to channel and command people's work and energy towards his purpose. His purpose is agreeable. His methods... maybe so. But his position causes me to wonder how these things happen in today's world of instant disbelief.
The dichotomy is startling. Cynics and agnostics have no say here. It is accepted and understood as law - and because his purpose is agreeable, everyone's more or less happy.
Which is fucking beautiful.
So maybe asking questions or speculating isn't the point.
The end justifies? I can't say.
Most old men are wise. I mean, if they aren't, they're just ignorant. The men who leave scope for more learning, understanding and most importantly - doubt, are the wise ones.
Wise men are those that have the capacity to understand anything and the discipline to know that they don't.
It's a form of self-awareness, or another word they like to throw around in an almost unfortunate fashion - meditation.
It's the Jesus of our age.
"Meditation is your only path to salvation." Sound familiar?
What I would suggest is a milder approach - where we're not pulling the wool over their eyes. People need/want guidance and answers. There is definitely a market here.
But stay responsible, you know?
Perhaps this is as responsible as they can be. Perhaps a younger voice might help. Just to offer corroboration. Just to keep them on their toes. Any good Jesus should be kept on his toes; just like any good parent should act - as a boat.
To take their children across the stream as gently as they row.
Ambedkar, Osho, this guy, Krishnamurti, the Dalai Lama and the guy who started Scientology are all examples of Jesus in the modern world. Or Mohammed or Guru Nanak or what have you.
And it's scary to me as much as inspiring.
Do I want to be Jesus? I don't know really... but I sure as hell would love the overwhelming validation these guys are privy to.
Imagine the power, the exhilaration.
And when that gets tiring - you've still got it made!
A roof, regular meals... and comfy clothes.
Amen.
Weltanschauung (29th July 2010)
I got tattooed yesterday. I put on my shorts, got into my car, picked up Jenaan and drove to Al's Tattoos 'n' Cappuccino, Carter Road, Bandra.
His name was Joe, from Thailand. He'd be my artist, I was told. Looked nice enough, wore a smile and had a killer tattoo on his neck. I got a good vibe from him.
My wrist is still a little swollen and it throbs when I leave my hand limp. Should take a while to heal I suppose. I've read that yellow isn't the best colour to use. But it wouldn't be the same without it, so I hope I manage to take care of it right. Maintenance is key.
I've been more or less neutral towards the topic of tattoos and sometimes even against, because of how nothing lasts etc. But more recently I started to recognize that there are things that I hold on to and I stopped seeing reason in discouraging the concept.
Besides, a tattoo also happens to be pretty darn cool.
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The design is very close to me, and comes from modest beginnings. Over 2 years ago now, I used MS Paint to place an infinity logo over a smiley face. I sat back and said "YES".
I tried to make it my own. A depiction of my values and my faith in integrity, in happiness.
A depiction of my way of being.
I've held it close for a while now and it has kept me going, along with the people I hold close - and enabled me to live free with any pain or negativity.
Like a reminder, that staying positive is worth it.
Hoping is worth it. Smiling is worth it.
The pursuit of happiness with an effort towards the perspective of infinity.
- The perspective of infinity here is to say there every point of view can hold value and that there is always another way to look at, or approach an idea.
- The white in the eyes to depict the vast, open space of everything and nothing all at once. Of possibility and scope. Of the universe in thought.
- The yellow face to express good and strong energy. Vibrancy.
- And the smile. To say that happiness is the best way to go.
The inifinty-eyed smiley helps me remember. This is my tattoo, my elegant anchor.
A display of my Weltanschauung.
And the smile isn't perfect. The edges are different.
A scar can get in the way of a smile... but not in the way of what it represents.
Yours indelibly,
Varun!
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