Burhanpur – Forgotten Glory

As promised in the earlier post on Asirgarh, i am back with more goodies, this time from in and around Burhanpur. For those who are joining us here, i was in Burhanpur earlier this month on office work. Its a piddly hick town in southern Madhya Pradesh near the border with Maharashtra.

I have, in the last post established that Burhanpur today is most famous for its Isabgol plant. However some centuries ago, it was a major contender for the site of the Taj Mahal. Had it won the race, the realities would have been different. But then again, who really knows!

Mumtaz died in Burhanpur giving birth to her fourteenth child, Gauhar Begum and was buried here for the next 23 years waiting the completion of her famed tomb, halfway up the country at Agra.

Is it not appropriate then, to begin this post with a photograph of Mumtaz’s hammam?

Paintings on the hammam walls

The hammam was beautifully painted, most of which has survived to this date. It is located in the Badshahi Qila or the city fort, which is the primary attraction in Burhanpur town.

Badshahi Qila

Standing on the banks of the Tapti, the Badshahi Qila is a remarkable structure. The six storeyed structure rises over 175 feet from the river beds and housed over 4,00,000 soldiers. The palaces – Diwan-i-Aam and Diwan-i-Khas were built on the terrace of the structure. The Raj Ghat, that you see in the foreground of the picture above was used as a base for the boats used by the members of the royal family.

Elephant in the water!

Just off the ghats in the middle of the Tapti is a strange rock in the shape of an elephant. To heighten the effect, the locals have even painted it in bright colours. It is said that on moonlit nights, Shah Jahan would take Mumtaz Mahal out on a boat and both of them would then sit on the elephant rock and enjoy the beauty of the night!

Badshahi Qila, again

Long after the Mughals, the Holkar Queen, Ahilya Bai, built numerous temples on the ghats, one of them dedicated to the goddess Tapti.

Raj Ghat

Life on the ghats

Life on the ghats

Life on the ghats

Burhanpur today, is a veritable necropolis. Of the monuments in and around the town, the majority are tombs. Apart from Mumtaz, Burhanpur boasts (!!) of a number of historical notables who have breathed their last here, including Nizam-ul-mulk, the first of the Asaf Jahi Nizams of Hyderabad and Sawai Jai Singh of Amber. After the tombs, the most numerous are the mosques. Lets start off on the grim note of death and the consequent monuments built to commemorate it, The following photographs belong to a complex of tombs on the banks of the Tapti. The two main mausoleums are of the Farooqui kings, Aadil Shah and Nadir Shah.

Twin TombsThe mausoleums house more than one grave. The largest of them belong to the emperor while the smaller ones are those of his wives, children, courtiers, servants, etc. Inside Nadir Shah's tomb

One of the bona-fide gems of Burhanpur is Bilquis Begum’s Tomb. However, the locals know it as Shah Shuja’s Tomb. In reality, it was Shah Shuja (son of Shah Jahan) who built this tomb for his wife Bilqis Begum. From the outside, the dome of the structure is somewhat melon shaped. On that cue the people of Burhanpur also refer to it as the kharbooji gumbad!

Bilqis Begum's tomb

The urge to built mausoleums for dead wives seems to have passed on from Shah Jahan to Shah Shuja. Though clearly nowhere comparable to the Taj Mahal, Bailquis Begum’s tomb has a charm of its own. The inside walls are embellished with paintings that even five centuries later continue to mesmerise and dazzle the visitor. Here, i must also thank the Archaeological Survey of India for the great job they are doing with the monuments of Burhanpur.

Details of paintings from Bilquis' tomb!

Jai Singh of Amber (1611-1666) was one of the most trusted generals of Aurangzeb. After concluding the treaty of Purandar with Shivaji and Co, Jai Singh was on his way back to Jaipur when he mysteriously died in Burhanpur. Some say he was poisoned by Aurangzeb himself, others feel that he died of excessive drinking. I feel that he died of excessive drinking on the wine given by Aurangzeb. Makes no sense? Well, thats historical conjecture!

So after his death, he was cremated on a lovely spot on the Tapti, 20 kms south of Burhanpur. Aurangzeb later erected a simple but beautiful chhatri on this spot. It is today popularly known as Raja ki Chhatri.

Raja ki Chhatri

The most dramatic of Deaths in Burhanpur was that of Mumtaz Mahal in 1631. She was initially buries in the king;s hunting lodge on the other side of the river from Burhanpur. Ahukhana, as the building is better known, stands to this day and perhaps as fate would have it, is the favourite haunts of the city’s love-lorn couples.

Ahukhana

From the house of the mortals we now move to the realm of God. Generation upon generation of Islamic rulers have resulted in the cityscape of Burhanpur being dominated by many a soaring mosque minar. The most prominent however is the town’s Jami Masjid. Also one of the oldest in the city, the Jami Masjid is located in Gandhi Chowk, at the very heart if the old town.

Has there ever been a better place to sleep?

It was in fact the first place we visited in Burhanpur after we had dumped our sacks in the hotel. It was a lazy afternoon and the mosque was quiet. A number of people were actually asleep in the sanctuary. Had work not being pressing on me, i would have considered a little nap myself!

It is easy to get lost in Burhanpur, a veritable city of mosques. Everybody who was anybody, anytime in the long history of this town, has left behind a mosque. Finding them in the present cityscape is a different adventure altogether. You have to get lost and wander in its labirynthine alleyways before you stand face to mace with a medieval mosque.

Beautifully sculpted mihrab at the Jama Masjid

A minar of the Tana Gujri Masjid, reflected in the waters of its hauz

Crumbling ruins of the once splendid Biwi ka Masjid

Close up of the love extant minar of Biwi ka Masjid

Remains of a sarai just outside of Burhanpur, at Zainabad

Perforated domes of the public hammam near the Anda Bazaar Chowk.

Bangles for sale outside the Iccha Devi Temple, 25 kms from Burhanpur

The delightful pleasure palace of Mahal Gulara

A solitary cupola on the roof of Mahal Gulara

Picknicking children invent a game at Moti Mahal, Asirgarh

Well, people, that was as much of Burhanpur’s secret as i could divulge. Needless to say, i could have gone on with the picture-play a bit longer but i feel that some of the intrigue should be left from the book.

Next up, is a multi-part series on Assam. So, watch this space for more.

[PS: I will have to admit that pressing schedules at work and at home has forced me to assemble this blog piece over a three week period. I would not be surprised if some of you find it a bit disjunctive and jumpy at times. Apologies!]

Conquering Asirgarh

Work comes to the rescue once again. Just when i had started to settle down, began spending more and more time under the comfort of the razai, comes the trip to Burhanpur. I am sure, most of you, just like me,  have not heard about the existence of such a town. Its only claim to fame, Parvati, my colleague tells me is that  Isabgul is made here.

Geographically, Burhanpur is located on the banks of the Tapti, 180 kms south of Indore in Madhya Pradesh. Its location is such that it is surrounded by Maharashtra on three sides. Its a very sparsely populated part of the country. The landscape is arid with either sal forests of low shrubs. Every now and then there are chains of low hills which at some points create quite a few breathtaking montages.

22 kms northeast of Burhanpur, in the middle of dense forests, one particular hill rises more than 2,300 feet from bare ground. This hill protects within itself  a number of perennial pools and the summit commands, on a clear day, a stunning horizon looking over hundreds of kilometers of the Nimar plains. The Farooqui rulers who reigned over the region before the Mughals, fortified the hill at three levels. The lowest level of fortifications was called the Malaigarh. Further up was Kamargarh, the second level of fortifications. Crowning it all was the unassailable Asirgarh.

Asirgarh rises over the surrounding landscape

Legend has it that this fort can never be conquered by force. When we went to the fort, we witnessed for ourselves the meaning of the word “impregnable”. Each level of fortification was a fort in itself. The walls run all around the hill and are riddled with sentry points at every nook and cranny. Not even a fly could have passed unnoticed. Then on top of it, to get to the king who would have been stationed at Asirgarh, you had to conquer not one but three forts.

Road to the top

Even the greatest of the Mughals – Akbar, had to face his match here. After six months of incessant warfare, he realised that he could not win the fort by direct millitary attack. The fort’s canons, stationed high on the hill were out of range for the Mughal guns but rained fire and brimstone  on Akbar’s army. So he tried a different tactic. He retreated with his army just out of range of the Farooqui canons, surrounded the hill with his 5,00,000 men and laid a siege. within a year supplies of the garrisoned troops in the fort ran out and a mass surrender followed. As it transpired, the royal family along with a handful loyal and brave warriors had managed to escape through an unknown route and were never seen or heard from again.

Natural defences - the hill-face carved into a bastion!

Today, the fort can be accessed by a variety of routes. For those climbing with vehicles, it is advisable to use the old British road (yes, the British occupied it too).  We had decided to take the car up as far as possible and then climb down later using the original paved pathway hacked on the surface of the hill by the Farooquis. You can gauge the height of the fort by the fact that the road from the base of the hill to the makeshift parking at the neck of the hill measures a full 7 kms.

Gateway to Kamargarh

The car stops at Kamargarh from where you proceed on foot to Asirgarh, which housed the citadel, the best of the soldiers, stables, a jami masjid and a temple.

Looking up at the Asirgarh walls from Kamargarh

The stairs that take you from Kamargarh to Asirgarh

Gateway to Asirgarh

Looking down at the Kamargarh gate from Asirgarh

... in Asirgarh

One of the main attractions in the fort is the Jami Masjid. Perched on one edge of the cliff, the twin lofty minars can be spotted for miles around. While we were approaching Burhanpur in the train the minars could be seen from the window of the train. It is a mammoth structure built with black granite – a mark of Farooqui architecture. It looms large over you as you approach it. Of all the buildings in the fort, only the masjid and the temple have survived almost intact. Providential?

Through the hole in the wall

Approaching the Jami Masjid

Built on a platform that is almost 8-10 m tall, the mosque built of huge blocks of granite gives off an air of solidness. So hard are its rocks that even time seems to have collided against it and stopped. Most of the mihrabs, both on the qibla as well as the north and south walls were once faced with intricate jaalis. Very few have survived.

View from the south

You follow the road adjacent to the southern side of the structure and it winds left to lead you to the east-facing gateway to the mosque. You enter through three tall arches. You cannot help but feel dwarfed by the scale of the structure around you. The grand, lofty arches, the soaring pillars and the eerie silence – all add to the intrigue that is Asirgarh.

Entrance to the mosque!

Entrance - closeup

The minars rose against the backdrop of clear blue sky, dramatised even further by thin, wispy clouds. It could not have been any better!

Minar (left)

Minar (right)

The sanctuary of the mosque is composed of four isles of pillars topped by arched capitals – a hallmark of Farooiqui architecture.

If you ever go there, please remember that you can climb up the minars through the spiralling staircase in them. Avoid using the left minar as it is structurally weak. As we climbed up the right minar, we first stopped on the roof of the masjid. From the edge of the roof, it was a clear drop of 2,300+ feet. From a distance, as you can see in the following pics, it looks as if it were a platform suspended in mid-air.

Just like i said, a platform suspended in mid-air

I dare not go any further

The view from the top of the minar..well.. takes your breath away. You are so high up that your stomach begins to churn. You can see the fort down below and notice how it is a vantage point to keep an eye on the vast rolling plains all around you.

View from the top of the minar

Look where the minar casts its shadow!

The stairwell in the minar

The road we used on our way up!

Where eagles dare, i guess!

Also in the fort is a temple, built beside a baoli. By the looks of it, it seems that the temple was buile in the later half of the sixteenth century, roughly corresponding to the years of Akbar’s occupation. Local guides, however, will insist that the temple is over 5000 years old and was built by Ahwatthama of the Mahabharata. They will further claim that on many a moonless night the spectre of Ashwatthama can be seen walking odown the steps of the baoli to the temple. However incredulous it might sound, one must not take the words of the guides lightly, because had it not been for these fantastic stories they weave, my job..nay, history itself would have been rather drab.

The inside of the temple was dark, except for a thin light like sensation that helped us to make out the mouldings and the corners inside the shrine. A couple of long exposures revealed that the interiors of the temple were once painted.

A shot in the dark - notice how you can see the remains of the paintings that once adorned these walls

A shot in the dark - a niche in the temple

From the temple we carried on with the walk along the ramparts. We were following the high outer walls of the fort and that ensured that we covered the entire complex in one huge circuitous route.

Mountainside hacked and chiselled to act as walls!

What a brilliant day it was!

The primary reason why the fort came up on this hill was the presence of a number of natural and perennial sources of water – a key requirement in maintaining a garrison. The two talaos directly in front of the British barracks are known as Mama-Bhanja. Again, our guide, Sat Narayan ji came to the rescue and added an anecdote to these otherwise green water bodies. According to him, if any real life mama and bhanja go in for a dip in the waters of either of these talaos, they will never emerge alive. Sinister, very sinister!

Mama Talao

Half a kilometre further from the twin talaos is a little cemetery for the British officers and their family members who died in the fort. We were surprised to find the earliest grave dating back to 1810.

Gilbert Grierson Maitland lies here...

...and the tombstone reads...

From the cemetery, we went back to the gate which let us into the fort. As decided earlier, the car had gone down and would be waiting for us at the tea stall in the3 village down below. We would be walking down using the path that the Farooquis had built more than half a millennium earlier.

On the way out

As we climbed down the pathway, which was largely a long staircase, we were thankful that we had taken the car on our way up. The steps were huge and even while descending, we were frequently feeling breathless (doesn’t say a lot about our fitness levels, either). With every turn in the road, the fort above our heads kept receding to the skies. The real sense of enormity and vertical distance was becoming more and more apparent.

Slowly rising into the bright blue sky!

further...

and further...

and then some more...

Malaigarh, Kamargarh and Asirgarh - all in one frame!

Asirgarh was definitely the high-point of our Burhanpur trip. But my dear travellers, it is definitely not all that you see in Burhanpur. The city and its immediate environs are literally dotted with historical monuments small and big, taken care of and neglected. Watch out for a sample of the Burhani flavour in this space. Till then…

A house in Asirgarh village

One Sunday Afternoon in November

The cold is beginning to set in on Delhi. While the days are still warm, the evenings have this endearing way of reminding you that its time to enjoy Delhi to the fullest.  Sadly, Sundays are all i have to soak in the warmth of the winters… load my mind with fresh memories to last me through the next summer. Yesterday, i woke up at 1 in the afternoon feeling rather cross with myself for having wasted almost a half of this precious 1 day i get to myself.

Saturday was lost in a haze of dust and smoke. The entire city lay shrouded with the depressive smog and i kept wishing that Sunday would be better. As soon as i woke up on Sunday, i rushed out of bed and stuck my head out of the window to look at the tiny patch of sky visible between the lane cramped with buildings. And i saw blue…however faint it was, blue nonetheless. It was time for me to head to Aadilabad. It is THE place for me in Delhi. I still remember the time in my second year when i stood on the ramparts of this deserted, overgrown fort and said to myself  “God, i love Delhi”.

Very few people are in fact aware of the presence of Aadilabad. Located on the other side of the road from Tughlaqabad, it can be reached by crossing the dust bowl, full at this time by youngsters enjoying a nice game of cricket. At first sight, it looks monstrous and overgrown…intimidating and foreboding to some…but for me, it is a place where i thrive. Thoughts fall into place, and i find myself in the ‘zone’ as i stand and stare from the high ground, across the plain on to the tomb of Ghiyasuddin Tughlaq and the epic backdrop of Tughlaqabad.

Aadilabad was borne out of the whims of Muhammad Bin Tughluq. After the death of his father Ghiyasuddin, he decided to build his own citadel. For this, he chose the hill directly facing Tughlaqabad, the fortress his father built. At that point of time in the middle of the 14th century, what is now the dust bowl, was a lake. He had his problems with his father, but now they lie in the eternal sleep under the same roof, exactly midway between the citadels they built.

You can take a bike up to the base of the hill and then proceed to climb over the rocks to reach the main entrance.

Tughlaqabad is built on a much larger scale, but lacks the appeal that Aadilabad carries. The absence of a road leading up to it, the creepers growing through the rocks, no names on the walls… alright, very few names on the walls, and most importantly, SILENCE – this is Aadilabad.

The Archaeological Survey of India is undertaking some renovation work on the fort. The workers on the projects live in these little hutments inside the outer walls of the fort. Funnily enough, go back 700 years and the same people would have lived in the same way (minus the plastic sheets), in the same part of the fort. The inner citadel was no place for squatters.

Sqautters of a different kind.

The old, naked, disembowelled walls…How i love them!

Friend, bitch, reluctant partner in crime(s).

PS: Tughlaqabad walls in the background.

This is where i always sit!

Looking inwards into the fort. Where we are is a giant bastion. In front of us lies the ruins of a great palace. Still discernible are a large hall full of arches, a pillared hall, several chambers and the foundations of what can only be an elaborate hammam. At one point of time this was one of the finest palaces in the world. At least Ibn Batuta thought so!

This picture was taken from the bastion looking onto the squatters’ village. The kid was walking around in between the huts and stopped just short of a junction of two tracks left by passing livestock. The wild hedges, the littered garbage and the dusty kid made it look like life had been annihilated of the face of the planet and she is the lone survivor, surveying the remains of the day!

There is a method in madness, order in chaos, beauty in squalour and a hearth in front of a home.

The thing about plants is that they dont need an excuse to grow. I want to be a plant!

I have lost weight and i dont own a belt. So i put my hands in the pockets so that it does not fall down.

Khandahar!

This side of the fort was less crowded. It was away from the road, the cricket-bat wielding crowd and the voices in my head. We sat here on a rock and stared at nothing. Yet we saw everything. Then suddenly a muezzin sang the Azaan. If somehow you minus the jhuggis outside the fort, the jets passing overhead and the distant honking of horns, you can actually go back in time. The fort would have been the same 3oo years back. So would have been the language, tune and appeal of the Azaan. All you need to do is block out the inconsequential, the mundane, the ephemeral.

Come with me… lets take a walk on the wild side!

Kids are always a joy to watch and photograph. The one on the right found the cricket ball in one of the thickets and that made his day! This frame, i think, defines friendship.

Then they turned back to look at Imroz and me.

When they saw the camera, they called out some names and out of nowhere more little boys materialised for a photo. …and i thought that the fort was deserted. Over the next half an hour, we became very good friends. The kid with the ball would even let us play ‘catch-catch’ with it. We parted after exchanging locations of secret hideouts in the fort and batting techniques.

Imroz has ugly hands.

One thing i hate about winters is the short days. I could have happily spent a couple more hours here. On one hand was the fading daylight and on the other was Imroz going on and on about how we are only wearing tee shirts and the later we leave the colder its going to get. What do i do with this guy?

Thats him stepping outside the fort. The field stretches ahead. Games are being wrapped up and goatherds return home with their flock. We would go back hime and wait for the monday to come and drive the blues away!

Ujjain – The land of God(s)

Work took me to Ujjain earlier this week. We are doing a book for MP Tourism on this most ancient of cities. I am, as per office policy, not allowed to put up work related pics ahead of the completion of the project, but the snaps that you see here have been reduced in size and resolution. So technically speaking, apart from this space they are pretty useless!

Harsiddhi Mata Temple. I love moments… moments like this

The Paintings on the interior of the Harsiddhi Mata Temple. Real kitsch is what i mean!

The idol of the deity in the temple!

A sadhu outside the Kal Bhairav Temple. I think sadhus make for very nice pics. Though the subject is highly overdone and has been  a cliche for ages, its still remains very appealing.

Friends strike a pose at the ghats outside the Mangalnath Temple

Patience is a virtue!

How many things can rise to the sky at the same time?

Man doing yoga on the waters of the Shipra river near the Navagraha Temple. Look at the finesse…he is just floating there…such is his skill and balance that even the ripples in the water are perfectly symmetrical

Worshipping under the old Banyan Tree

Ah! This pic… it has got to be one of the best i have clicked so far. There is something about the frame…something in the room, in the man’s eyes that makes me stare at the picture for several minutes at a stretch.

Coming to think about it,  this one is quite well framed

Kalideh Palace, just outside Ujjain. The durbar hall has been converted to a Sun Temple and this is the sun god himself. He needs peotection though and is surrounded by a grille. Tried to frame him through one of the grille patterns.

It was such a quiet place. I could hear the creaking of the wheels of this bullock cart, long after it disappeared from sight!

To beat the summer heat, the Mughal governor of the region made a palace and surrounded it with water in the form of channels, nullahs and tanks. The locals wash clothes, cook and worship here now-a-days.

The Ram Ghat. This is where the Maha Kumbh Mela is held every 12 years! The ‘magic’ evening light!

This was by far the highlight of the entire trip – the Sandhya Arati on the Shipra. This young priest was on my side of the ghat. On the other side there were two priests. There were groups of people on both sides playing kettle drums and banging cymbals in unison. It was a very powerful moment.

I love this pic, i love the soft glow of the lamp on his face!

….and on the other side of the river!

A Shiva temple on the ghats.

The curiously modified bus that took me on a Ujjain Darshan!

Falahari Baba! He has lived only on fruits for the last 45 years!

I was trying to click the red potlis in the background but this man walked into the frame and started observing what i was doing…i shot the man!

Roadtrippin to Pushkar

It has hardly been a week since i came back from the Andamans. Normally, people would not feel like travelling, let alone on a motorcycle so soon. But then you know me! Where normal people stop, i begin!

The idea of doing a weekend ride occured to me as Aamir and I were sitting and chilling at my place. We had two days off and i had some (very little, mind you) spare cash. I could have saved it, but the amount was so insignificant that i decided to fuck it. I thought that if i did the ride, the experience would be much more worth it than the money in the bank. There were two major hurdles to the successful completion of the trip. First, to get Aamir (who’s fast approaching thirty and has the mentality very similar to, say, a turnip) up on his ass and preparing him for the trip; and secondly the constant nagging voice in my head which said that Pushkar and back in two days is impossible.

All doubts laid to rest, the day of the trip fast approached. By the time i got home after work, sorting out small mechanical issues on the bike, buying spares and collecting back-packs, it was nearly one in the morning. As per plan we were supposed to be out by 3:30, so we packed fast and settled down for an hour’s sleep.

Thanks to calls from a very supportive girlfriend and a very worried mother, we were up an running on schedule. Our first stop was at the ATM near IIT. From there we hit the NH8, which we would be following all the way to Ajmer.

Dope at the ATM

We crossed Gurgaon at 4:15 in the morning. The expressway is a pleasure to drive in even during peak traffic and at this godforsaken hour of the day when we were practically the only people on the road, it was a whole new feeling altogether. The needle on the speedo stayed still at 120 kmph. Originally (and i attribute it to a late waking-up habit) i had thought that the sun would be out by five, around the time we are out of the NCR and hit the open stretches. But 5 rolled to 5:30 and 5:30 rolled to 6 and there was no signs of the sun. At one point of time i was even thinking that maybe we left at 2:30 instead of 3:30. But anyway, the sky lightened sometime after 6 and by 6:30, we were already within a 100 kms of Jaipur when we stooped at this dhaba for tea and smokes and some photos.

Shameless poser!

You know you are in Rajasthan when....

As we approached Jaipur, the highway got prettier and prettier. The landscape was increasingly getting rugged and we started seeing the first signs of the Aravallis.

Aamir's helmet is too big for his head!

Bodhi on Dope!

Soon we hit the turn which would allow us to by-pass Jaipur and continue on our way towards Ajmer. As soon as we hit the by-pass, the shy darkened and it started drizzling. I was seriously disappointed…first Andamans and now this! The rains must have a serious issue with me. No! Not this time, i pressed on the throttle and began speeding away…. for the next half an hour, we literally outran the storm brewing behind us. What a feeling!

Thats the feeling you get when you outrun the storm!

If the Delhi-Jaipur stretch of the highway is ’smooth’ then from Jaipur to Ajmer, it is a veritable Autobahn. Hills flank the wide tarmac on both sides and for the longest stretch, the surroundings were devoid of any human presence. I have never been on roads like this. The road eventually leads to Mumbai which is 1200 kms from Jaipur. The urge was great to keep driving and not stopping till i reached Mumbai…but not this time. Very soon, though!

NH8, somewhere between Jaipur and Ajmer

By the time we crossed Jaipur on the by-pass it was 9:30 in the morning and our stomachs had started to growl in symphony. Aamir at this point started acting like a bitch that he is. He rejected all the highway dhabas that i wanted to go to. He wanted a nice, sanitised, clean, ‘family’ place. So after much searching, we stopped at this dhaba and got ourselves stuffed on some awesome pakodas and paneer paranthas.

Pakodas

After this dhaba stop, we had to go on for another 80-85 kms where a state highway branched off from the NH8 towards Ajmer, and guess what… we completed this stretch in under 40 mins.

I got sun on my face!

Aamir had been a very good boy to this point. But when he saw a Cafe Coffee Day outlet on the highway, he just could not resist himself. He started flailing his arms about, jumping on the backseat, threatening to jump off if i did not stop. So i had to. He marched in, sat on the most comfortable couch and ordered a cold coffee! Road tripping with such people is such a pain, i tell you!

Aamir finally finds 'his kinda place'

Me in 'Aamir's kinda place'

Once we took the turn from the National Highway into the state highway, ther  was a perceptable change in the landscape. Dhabas and petrol pumps were few and far between, as were the villages. Soon we reached Kishangarh, which marks the beginning of the ‘Marble Belt’. For centuries the hills in this area have been quarried for their white marble. 4o kms down the road branching towards the right are the fabled mines of Makrana, that supplied the unblemished white marble used for the construction of the Taj Mahal.

These hills were once very high. On the outskirts of Kishangarh

Kishangarh fort in the Distance

Soon after Kishangarh, we entered Ajmer. It is a rugged yet serene town located along the base of a line of lofty hills. At the centre of the town is the sprawling Maharana Pratap Sagar lake. Our plan was to go to the Dargah Sharif before continuing towards Pushkar, 15 kms from here. The Dargah is located insuide of the Ajmer’s busiest markets and since it was also Diwali, the crowd was unbelievable. So we decided to skip it and continue towards Pushkar. We would come back for the darshan the next day, on our way back to Delhi. We stopped for some time on the lawns beside the lake and took some pictures

Maharana Pratap Sagar, Ajmer

In Pushkar, we were booked into the Pink Floyd Cafe, where the decor is psychadelic and the rooms are named after Pink Floyd albums. As Luck would have it, we were given the room called “Animals”. Anindita had a good laugh when i told her about it!

Pink Floyd Cafe

Interiors - First Floor

Interiors - Second Floor

The Lounge

The hotel was spread across three floors. All floors had a hall into which all the surrounding rooms opened. The top floor was the restaurant cum lounge and on the terrace there is a landscaped garden as well as another seating area. The terrace provided amazing view of Pushkar and the surrounding hills.

Pushkar From the terrace

Pushkar From the terrace

Pushkar from the terrace

Pushkar from the terrace - The Savitri Temple atop the hill watches over the town. We climbed the 700 steps leading to the temple in the evening

When we reached the hotel, we were quite exhausted having slept for hardly an hour in the last day and a half. Aamir was all for going to sleep and i had to push the old man along. So tired of me prodding his ass, he came up to the restaurant where we sat flicking through magazines and taking pictures while we waited for our lunch to show itself.

The best part about the hotel though was this little girl called Appu. She is hardly two years old and is all over the place. She, without hesitation enters rooms of strangers and every half an hour, there is someone or the other returning her to the reception to her dad. She came to me and settled down on my lap and narrated me a story in her own language, made up of a lot of different undistinguishable sounds and hand gestures.

Appu!

After a rather satisfactory and surprisingly delicious lunch, we went off to explore the town. To our great dismay, the lake was quite dry except for a puddle here and a puddle there. But on the upside, the ghats were gloriously deserted. There were hardly 10 people there and the architecture was brilliant. It is like Benaras, scaled down, built around a lake.

There are more than 52 ghats at Pushkar. Each of the ghats leads either to a temple and in some cases, the courtyards of  rich landowners and merchants.

The deserted ghats at Pushkar

A moment of quiet reflection

Two people and a whole lot of piegeons - the recipe for serenity

Among the larger things in the picture like the clear blue sky and the deserted ghats there were these innocuous little corners which are equally attractive. This jaali window once had a view, but has since been blocked up by a wall of bricks.

People have various methods of making a wish. In this case, some leave hand prints of themselves on the walls in vermillion. The last place i had seen this was at the Mmahamaya Temple, a shaktipeeth near Bilaspur, Chhattisgarh

This babaji claims to have walked down from Rishikesh!

This tree was the trippiest thing in all of Pushkar. Reminded me of the gnarled tree on the ramparts of the Hall of Gondor in Minos Terith.

The old man was feeding his piegeons. Sometimes they ate from his hands while others sat on his shoulders and sometimes even on his head.

Thats Aamir surveying the scene from his vantage point on the ghats

More signs of worship!

From the ghats we wandered off through the markets to the Brahma temple that makes Pushkar so unique. Apparantly, it is one of the only four Brahma Temples in the world. I thought it would be different from the other temples i had seen, but i was grossly disappointed. It was as commercial as any other big temple. There was nothing striking about its architecture too. I preferred to stay out while Aamir went in.

Outside the Brahma Temple

Hanumana himself!

A rare sombre face on a festive day!

Goodies at the Pushkar Bazaar

We walked a lot through the markets and the bylanes. I have seen lots of markets like this and there was hardly anything unique  about it, except for the stalls that were selling a vast array of swords, daggers and other hacking / slashing / cutting paraphernelia.Owing to the huge influx of Israeli tourists, a lot of the shops had hoardings or posters in Hebrew! I hace heard about stuff like this in Himachal..but the first time that i am seeing one.

Before i came to Pushkar, i read some blogs and all of the raved about the malpuas at the sweet shops. So we decided to check it out. The sweet shops had spilled into the streets and there were heaps of Bangali sweets in makeshift stands in front of the shops. A little conversation with the halwaii inoformed us that Pushkar sweets are so famous that people come here from Ajmer. We asked for two plates of malpus and that stuff was outright delicious. I am not a big fan of sweets and crazy as it may sound, i hate if my sweets are… well..too sweet! But not this. It was soft and chewey and just the right amount of sweet. It was excellent. Aamir wanted to pack some for home, but as usual, he forgot!

The Pushkar Bazaar

from the 'Dali Shop'

From the markets, we drove to the base of a hill on the top of which is a temple dedicated to goddess Savitri, Brahma’s consort. A board at the base of the hill where the stairs start, informed us that we would have to climb 702 stairs to reach the temple. In the beginning the steps were of concrete and very comfortably spaced. About halfway up, the concrete disappears and the stairs are just made of the hillside rock, chiselled to have footholds. And very steep!

Didnt know back then how excruciating it would turn out to be

Pushkar viewed from the initial stages of the climb

The valley...the road from Ajmer passes through it to reach Pushkar

As you climb on, more and more of the surrounding wastelands show up. You can see the gap in the mountains through which the road from Ajmer enters Pushkar. You can see the town, so tiny that it seemed to fit in the fold of your hand. On the other side of the saucer shaped valley where Pushkar is located, you can see hills, one of them  even topped by a temple. As you go higher, you can feel the vertical distance between you and the town increasing. What a place to build a temple!

and we climb a little higher

...and higher

The real climb!

There were a group of Vaishnav pilgrims from Bengal. Most of them were elderly couples from a lower middle class background. Many of them were visually aged while some were bent over and walked with sticks. All of them were climbing the steps… people who were slightly more able were helping the others. Others were shouting words of encouragement to others. A few of them chugged on, chanting ’shakti dao, Ma!’

Faith Moves, literally!

We finally made it to the top and so exhilerated were we about doing this, that we forgot about at least going to the temple. I guess, sometimes the test of faith (for lack of a proper word) is maybe, just to reach the right place. A sojourn that i am more than willing to make…where the journey itself becomes the destination.

We did it!

View of Pushkar from the top

A close-up

:D

Under his wings!

We soent a lot of time on the top of the hill. The sun was just going down and the entire valley was bathed in the glorious orange light. There was a little cafe there and we just ordered large servings of water! The climb had completely drained. We sat on the chairs and looked at the sights unfold in front of our eyes. One by one and often in little groups pilgrims reached the top and were visuallly happy at the achievement. We decided it was time to go down when it started getting dark. The steps leading down looked even scarier while climbing down. The rocks were slippery and it was difficult to find a flat piece of stone. Help came in the form of a Sikh babaji (in the pic) advising me ‘Radhey, chappal utar lo’. It worked!

Descent, very Descent!

Sun switching off!

...until tomorrow!

mystic notes!

When we came down to the parking there was a man playing the instrument (i must find out the name). He stared off with hindi fil tunes. I asked him to play some folk tune and he obliged.

I had to get the rear brakes worked on so i took Dope to the “Shreeram Enfild Gairaj and Sarvice Canter”

How do so many Indians win the spelling bee?

How i wish, how i wish you were here, Anindita!

We decided that we would go out for dinner again and we had seen this restaurant in the market which we kinda liked. It was a shack made on the terrace of a building. So we went ot the almost-empty Hard Rock Restaurant and ordered some sphaghetti and macaronis. Le less we say about the food, the better!

Hard Rock Restaurant!

Fireworks - 1

Fireworks - 2

Reeling from tiredness and lack of sleep, we went to bed at 9:30 and woke up 12 hours later, fresh as flowers bathed in the autumn dew! All that was left for us to do was visit the Dargah and then head back to Delhi. So we decided to have a laid back Breakfast. We went up to the cafe upstairs and ordered the creamy lasagnas. While i waited a saw a copy of the book ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ that someone must have left behind. I picked it up and started reading. It was turning out quite interestingly actually, but can you blame a guy for putting down a book when a hot cheesy platter is laid in front of him?

I swear i was not posing for this one!

Yeah yeah..Lennon and all!

On the road from Almer to Pushkar, you have to cross a mountain. There comes a point in the road, the highest pint from were you can see the land for miles and the road snaking through it across all impossible angles. While going to Pushkar we stopped here too but something went wrong with the camera and it just didnt click! Not this time, though!

The road to Pushkar!

The road cuts through solid rock at this point, creating a gateway of sorts. This photo was so overexposed that i had to convert to b/w just to make it visible!

Gateway to Pushkar!

I am tempted to use "Riders in the Storm".. but its too overused!

All i desire... a life on the highway!

We reached the main bazaar at Ajmer from where the road to the dargah begins and parked the bike. We deposited our luggage and helmets at a flower shop and proceeded towards the shrine. The road was covered with tinsel streamers which made it a very pretty sight!

In my defence, i was not aware when the picture was taken

Entrance to the Dargah!

The Pilgrims!

SOME PICTURES OF THE DRIVE BACK FROM AJMER…

Another hill...another temple crown

The colours of Rajasthan

Food, truck-driver style!

A most delicious lunch!

dilli abhi bhi kaafi dur hai

The Highway!

Pit-stop for pakodas!

Day 6 – Havelock and Neil islands

This day, as usual, started at 5 in the morning. Oh i am so getting used to it. We checked out of the hotel, reached the jetty and took a boat to the marvellous Elephanta Beach (consult map on previous post) for some coral viewing and snorkelling. Post Elephanta and hopefully brakefast too, we would take the boat back to Neil Island where we would stop for the night.

The weather was back to its gloomy ways. It had actually rained the entire night and the sea was rather rough. On top of that we were in a dinghy of the most insignificant size.

Elephanta is not much of a beach. As you can see from the picture here, its a very thin strip of land surrounded by deep waters and untouched coral reef. This is a hot-bed for scuba diving and snorkelling.

A huge tree had fallen into the water and it provided an amazing scope for my shutter-happy ways. In this picture, however, you can see that a tiny drop of water has settled on my lens, thus blurring out a part of the image.

More of the fallen tree….

This one is my favourite. Check the sky out. When we were going back, it rained so much that we actually feared burial at sea!

Ma goes snorkelling….

And comes back to tell the tale.

Thats me, venturing into the reefs…

Tired and wet!

At Neil now… guess who finally decides to join the party after a week of silent observation from the dry land!

This beach was quite amazing… no matter how far out into the sea you walk, the level of water remains the same. This is just the largest swimming fool ever.

Ma is collecting shells. I dont know what baba is doing. I think he is digging a tunnel to Burma!

Who said ‘Spa’?

Look ma, i am a crocodile. Raaarrrrrrrrr……..

Like father..like son

I believe i can fly..sorry… SWIM!

Ma

In the evening, Baba and me went to this beach, a rocky one at that where one can spot stranded aquatic life at low tide. Just like the rocks i visited in Port Blair. Ma complained of fatigue and stayed back at the hotel. The rocks were strewn with pieces of broken coral.

There were limestone cliffs surrounding the beach. In case of this one, the sea has worked its way into creating an arch. The locals call it the ‘Howrah Bridge’.

A rock that has been gnawed to the bone by the sheer force of the sea!

The loow tide leaves pubbles like these on the beach. They form the best places to spot unique sea life forms.

Clams!

Sea amemones. If you touch them they retract into the rocks. Vry much like the touch-me-nots or what we call in Bangla lajjabati

Who knew that corals come in metallic shades too!

Finger corals!

Another kind of coral!

For some weird reason, i wore a kurta to the beach!

The amazing beach where we saw the sunset! The little man to the right is baba!

Another one!

The main bazaar at Neil Island at night!

The biggest grocery shop of the tiny island!

Day 5 – Havelock Island

What a day! What a rare day! Ever since we came to these islands, it had been raining… all the time. For the first time in days, the sun was out and all the colours changed. We reached the port early in the morning to board the boat (MV Rani Lakshmi) that will take us to Havelock via Neil Island.

The map of Havelock will put my later ramblings into a lucid context. I hope!

Boats lined up on the docks at Port Blair. All of them are run by the government and are subsidised for the locals. While we paid Rs 235 per head for the journey from Port Blair to Havelock, for locals its Rs 25.

Jetty lights against the clear blue sky!

Thats the colour of the sea when the sun is shining. Port Blair recedes to the distance as the boat starts its eastward crawl towards Neil and Havelock

North Bay. The entire region is surrounded with coral reefs and forms the Mahatma Gandhi Marine National Park. When you look at the back-side of a Rs 20 note, you will see an island with lots of coconut trees and a lighthouse. Thats the north bay island and the lighthouse (which is just left of  this photo’s left limit) is known as Wandoor.

The seating area of the boat.

Once the boat reached the high seas, there was nothing to do on the deck so i sat down and caught up with a couple of episodes of SCRUBS. The photograph was taken by ma while i was busy in the aforementioned fashion.

The deep, blue sea!

The boat makes the first stop at Neil Island. On the background is one of Neil’s beaches while the lighthouse in the foreground, a tiny lighthouse marks a coral reef so that the ships and bigger boats like the one we were on,  stay clear.

That, they say is the real colour of the sea around here.

These pillars too, mark the coral reefs. All these pics were taken when the boat was approaching Neil jetty.

One more

Men relax on the jetty, suspended above the glassy waters.

Boats around the Neil island shoreline

The jetty at Neil Island

While you wait for the boat to pick up and drop passengers and begin the next leg of the journey towards Havelock, you can chill with some coconut water at the jetty

or with some paan and cigarettes!

The sea, painted a million shades of blue!

Approaching Havelock

Near the Havelock Jetty. Look at how crystal clear the water is

What can i say!

This is at the jetty. All these fishes were in a large school and were circling around the jetty pillars.

And then there were smaller fishes!

Just like people have cars in cities, people in Havelock and other islands have boats and this is how they park them!

Thats the view we enjoyed sitting at our resort!

The wall was put up so that the high tide water cannot rush in.

Why do people rave about Thailand so much. Are they not aware of these places in India itself?

The resort lawns

There you go! half a day of sunny bliss coming to an end. The rain clouds start rolling in… that too when i had just finished renting an Enfield! Damn you rains!

Thats the red Bullet i rented. It was called Red Bull for the day!

And thats Andaman’s finest Brew! The fact is, if you are wet and you are sitting in a shack on the beach and waiting for your shirt to dry, any brew is good brew!

Havelock’s prime attraction – Radhanagar Beach. This 3 km long stretch of white sand is considered to be one of the best in the world.

And it attracts not only loud Bengali tourist and bikini-clad westerners, but also the canines.

I wish i knew how to swim…i wish i knew how to surf!

Have you ever seen a beach this large so empty?

Just to stress on the point i just made.

framed with forests…

Driftwood on the beach

HA HA HA! Crabs are the best. These little fellows are barely two inches across. Whenever the waves go back, they appear for seconds, only to disappear into the sand in the wink of an eye. If you happen to catch one of them, like i did, they just play dead! the moment you let them off your hand, schoom…they are off!

The beauty of this beach! The trees look as if they have been planted according to a plan. They grow naturally in a neat row across the length of the beach

Just like this…

And like this…

At times there are rocks that jut into the sea. The rocks are covered with algae and they can be very slippery. I found out the hard way and to this day, more than a week after i am back, there is still a bluish black patch on my butt!

The sand in this stretch of the beach was rather soft. Your entire foot disappears with every step.

Ma being a little girl!

I like this pic!

The sun says Good Bye!

I will definitely come back here one day. May that day be very soon and may the company be right!

Day 4 – Baratang and back to Port Blair

We started from Rangat at the crack of the dawn, as usual. the destination of the day is the limestone cave at Baratang Island – the same place where we had the first ferry crossing just the day before. Only that from the jetty we take speedboats and begin the 40 km ride through the creeks to reach the other side of the island where the cave is located.

Ma and baba seem prepared for the worst

and i did too, only with a frown:

The creek at Baratamg. Apparantly they are full of saltwater crocs.

More traffic on the other side of the creek. The big boat in the distance is the ferry.

Lifejacket for protection against drowning and dupatta for protection against cold and wind-induced bad hair. Smaart baay, Rabart!

From the wide creek, the boat took a turn into the narrow mangrove channel. at times the channel was so narrow that the sides of the boat kept bumping into the roots.

From the jetty, we had to walk for like a kilometre to get to the cave. First, the road took us through the jungles

Our guide and his brother leading a group of enthusiastic travellers

More forest roads:

After some time, things started to rock! i mean the surroundings started getting rockier… and indication of the proximity to the cave.

A narrow road passes between the sentinel rocks.

And then there was a narrow bridge over a narrow brook.

I was tired of no one clicking my pics. So i stood in the middle of the ‘bridge’ till ma snapped one.

Gone…

Going…

Gone!

Entering the foreboding limestone caves. The inside was pitch dark. The guide was carrying an emergency lamp, the only light source once you are in.

And these, my dear friend, are the rock formations inside the cave. Over thousands of years, water had been dripping down giving rise to rocks of curious shapes. they are in a process of constant growth, sometimes they grow and change so rapidly that the change is discernable even within a few years.

Various chemicals in the water adds various ishades of colours to the rocks. The colours are not completely understandable as most of the photographs inside the caves were to point to or focus on.

And yes, it can be very claustrophobic

A stalactite

From a wide and lofty opening, the cave gradually goes narrower and narrower and the rocks weirder.

And there is ma, shouting at the rocks, apparantly. Look at the expression of fear on baba’s face. The cave does weird things to your psychy.

A stalactite descends from the woof while a stalagmite rises from the floor.. or is it the other way round? whatever… one day they will meet and form a pillar!

Leaving the caves. The rocks on the right looks like a series of faces carves on the walls.

The amazing bamboo forest. Spot the bench in the lower right corner? We sat there for a while nursing the straining legs

Back on the road and exhaustion takes over. This is when the car stopped at the forest checkpost at Jarbatang.

Who knew there was so much more to the Andamans than just sand and surf?

Of course there are dereted roads in the middle of thick forests where your car suddenly breaks down, miles away from humanity. The driver went off to the next town, 28 kms away to find us another vehicle while we waited.

Rampwalking in the forest. What people would do to pass two hours!

Obviously Baba cant do rampwalk, so he just took a stroll

and then stopped to admire the lush foliage!

Finally back in Port Blair. The runway of the town’s airport is to the right. They built two parallal roads – used one for the cars and buses and the other for Airbuses!

lol

Funny breed of local poultry. Looks like a cross between chicken and turkey to me. Whatever it is, it’s bound to be tasty!

A pillar erected in 1914 in memory of the few residents of the islands who died fighting in the First World War for a country, they or their descendants would never set foot in.

Day 3 – Dighlipur to Rangat

Today, i shall take you from Dighlipur where we halted the previous night to Rangat where we will spend this night. On the way we visit the Ross and Smith islands of the coast of Dighlipur. As i mentioned earlier, Dighlipur is the main town of the North Andaman island. Close to Dighlipur is Saddle Peak, the tallest mountain of the Andamans. This map of North Andaman will make things clearer.

We woke up in the morning and walked down to the Kalipur beach which is a little distance from the resort. Here’s ma and Baba in front of the hotel

You have to walk for like a quarter of a mile on the main road before turning into a lane that leads to the beach. Ma and Baba taking the long walk

From the main road, this narrow lane branches off to the beach. As with everything else on the island, the pathway passed through a very thick forest before opening, almost miraculously onto the wide and wild Kalipur Beach

It was stormy overnight and it had been pouring torrentially till around an hour before we hit the beach. The winds were high and the sea was rough. Here, take a look:

…and the rains started all over again. We had to run for shelter at the shack on the beach where we waited for the next hour for it to stop. This poor man was trying to stay dry and guide two stubborn buffaloes at the same time. Poor man!

How many colours can you see in the water?

This is the wild and storm lashed Kalipur beach. This is pristine habitat. In November-December, turtles – Olive Ridleys, Leatherbacks, Hawksbills – come ashore to nest on this beach.

The rain held for a few minutes and i went for a walk on the beach and this is what i found. This is a huuuuuge King Cobra, easily 14 feet in length. Its not surprising that it was murdered, because thats the only thing people can do, but what struck me was the way it was murdered. If you look closely, you will see that it was strangled to death with a rope. What sort of a depraved person would do that??

Another view of the beach and all the storm debris that have been washed ashore.

And thats baba and me taking shelter from the strong winds and heavy rains.

So after we managed to cram in some breakfast, we headed straight to the Ariel Bay jetty to take a boat to Smith Island. The time was just about right as the low tide had just set in. Heres ma in the jetty:

The simple man guiding his simple boat

One of my trademark abstract shots. I must stop taking more of these. Its kinda getting repetitive

When you reach Smith island, you discover that there is no jetty. So the boat goes as far as it can and then you have to jump! Here are two people who have successfully got down from the boat in the manner described before.

The skies were so dramatic throughout the trip. I love this picture:

What you see here is the smaller Ross island seen from the larger Smith. As it is low tide, the two islands are connected by this while sand beach. While we were there, the waters receded further and the beach became even broader.

Thats the beach on the Smith Island side

As the waves came lapping on the shore, it churned the sand on the seabed into these interesting formations. On a clearer day, this would have been even clearer.

Resting places for tourists at the Smith island beach

One more of the beach…it was so beautiful, could not get enough of it.

Our boat waiting to take us back to the jetty. Check out the hills in the background. Mysterious misty hills.

And the waters recede even further and reveal what was till a few moments ago, under the waves

The beach was full of corals and sea shells. This one was huge. It would have easily weighed 2 kgs. Beautiful..only nature can craft such colours and patterns

Random beach shot

Another random beach shot

This is how deserted the place was. We were the only people in the two islands. And look at the sky again. AWESOME

Beachscape

Check out how clear the water is. the bottom is crawling with hundreds of crabs and fishes. Wherever you plant a foot, there are a thousand things scuttling around. That place was alive

Ma taking my pic, i guess

This is one of my favourite pics from the day. The colour of the water here is so unusual. Adding to the charm are the patchy sky and the cloud topped hills in the distance

Its time to go. The boatwallah gets the craft as close to us as possible

‘Be careful when you get on to that boat‘, he tells her

Anchors Aweigh!

Day 2 – Port Blair to Dighlipur

We started at 4 in the morning to get to Dighlipur. Port Blair is at the southernmost tip of the Great Andaman islands while Dighlipur is the northern end. The total distance is around 340 kms. Here’s the map:

The red line is the Andaman Trunk Road (ATR) that connects the two cities. It passes through some of the densest forests in the world, inhabited by the stone age Jarawas. At two pints, you need to get down from whatever vehicle you are in, cross over on ferry – people, cars, buses, et al, and continue from the other side.

The road through forests:

The first ferry crossing at Middle Strait. You can see how vehicles and people cross over on boats.

From the boat, you get a very nice view of the creek as well as the numerous small islands and the mangrove forests fringing the waterline

Here’s a close-up of the lush mangrove thickets:

We crossed over from middle strait onto Baratang island. Here we waited in little huts built on the water, for the car to come in the next boat. I took some pics while waiting.

Ma

There was a boat tied to the pillars. I tried to capture it using the window of the hut as a frame:

More vehicles cross over to join the melee on our side of the water:

While we were still in the shack, it started to rain heavily. here is a picture of the deluge

And this, after the rains..

People line up to board the state bus to Dighlipur at Baratang jetty

From here on, we went to see the Mud Volcano, which was just an anthill sized mound issuing bubbles from the top. What a let down! Here is Baba walking through the forest to get there

This is a beautiful photograph of ma, en route the Mud Volcano. When baba saw this pic, his only comment was ‘aagun laiga jaibo‘!

Strange palm trees…seen nothing like this anywhere else… locally they are known as the Umbrella Palm

Baba pretending to be a poet while waiting for the boat at Kadamtala Jetty (the second ferry crossing)

Kadamtala jetty from the boat

Stormclouds loom over the mangroves at Kadamtala

ma and baba on the boat

and thats me

Funny pic of ma chilling with some nariyal paani. Baba’s reaction to the pic was ‘khaishe!’

After ma, it was the dog’s turn to succumb to the kernel desire!

The waste paper bin becomes a hand resting place. Talk about wildlife suffering under the growing weight of humanity

Baba…poet…jetty…AGAIN

Lunch at Rangat

Just outside the restaurant we had lunch in, i discovered a colony of the half-inch-long Tailor Ants. If you look closely into the following pics, you will see that the ants literally ’stitch’ leaves of the plants together to make a nest. They are very aggressive and their sting is supposed to be very painful.

The journey from Rangat to Dighlipur was long. The road passed mostly through forests which got denser and denser with every passing mile. sometimes forests were broken by little hamlets with surrounding paddy fields. The clouds were very low. You could see them drifting through the tops of hills barely 100 meters high.

This one was taken from the moving car. Check out what i was saying about the clouds.

And this was just before everything plunged into a sudden, early night.