Italy was like the flavor of the month some days back when I wrote this incomplete article and saved it in drafts praying that it may have moulds and grows complete. It did not, and procrastination gave in to the several multiple innumerous reminders by self and the significant other, and I collaborated all of myself to write it.
From Florence, the city I wrote about last, we headed towards Pisa for all of a couple of hours. We knew it was too short and there were barely two things to look forward to - the Leaning Tower and the flea shopping outside the tower (a la Taj Mahal).
We went to Pisa by road and it was a solitary ride - most of the guys were tired after all the walking, and the lunch, and had their shares of 40 winks in the comfy seats of the coach. We arrived Pisa around 5, the sun had started setting.
The city of Pisa sits on the banks of river Arno in the Tuscany regions of Italy, and is known for its world-famous Bell Tower. We did not know much about the city besides the Tower and that Galileo Galilei was from Pisa. And for all that while we were there, we did not learn much anyway - aside from the Tower and it’s being.
It looked like a perfectly Italian city, with no high-rise buildings, not-so-broad roads, bikers, colorful graffiti and the crispy brown leaves of fall shining at the crimson rays of the sun.
The bus from Dehra Dun to Joshimath was on time. As it made its way through the capital of Uttarakhand, I caught a glimpse of a city fast losing its original character. I remembered reading an article that mourned the death of ‘old’ Dun, a city of retired army officials, educationists and authors.
The climb started soon after and with every bend, Dun became a speck in the mountains. The day was perfect for our 12-hour journey: blue skies, lush green mountains and oxygen-rich air. As we gained altitude, the river played hide-and-seek. After some two hours, the bus stooped at a small eatery, which among other things sold some very milky pahari chai. We had some chicken sandwiches with us. We ordered two cups of tea and had an impromptu picnic, sitting on two huge boulders lodged precariously at the roadside.
JOSHIMATH
We reached Joshimath around 7 pm, full 12 hours from the time we started. Reasons: rains and a broken clutch. Joshimath is a sleepy town, the last ‘big’ one before Govindghat. We were very tired and booked ourselves into the first hotel we saw. The room was airy and the bathroom clean. After some oily grub, we retired early.
In May 2000, I along with my family was at Darbhanga which is a small town in northern Bihar. My grandpa and grandma lives there. We had gone there to spend our summer vacations. We had planned two weeks of stay there. At that time I was in std. 5 and my brother, Johny was in std. 3. After 2 -3 days of stay my father suddenly came up with an idea to take us to Janakpur. It was a significant place of our culture and we hadn’t been there even once. Meanwhile one of my mamajis, (mamma’s cousin) also came to Darbhanga for some of his own job. We asked Papa to ask if he was free enough to come with us. After his agreement we were in all 5 persons to leave for Janakpur.
We went to the Darbhanga station and took a local train to Jainagar. It took 3-4 hours to reach there. It was meter gauge track then but presently the tracks have been converted to broad gauge and so now it hardly takes 2-3 hours to cover the same dist ance. From Jainagar we took a toy train to Janakpur. Jainagar – Janakpur route had a narrow gauge. We reached Janakpur after 2 hrs.
Janakpur does not fall within Indian borders. It lies in Nepal, a small neighboring country of India. So, it was a foreign trip for us. Johny and I were extremely happy with this information which Papa gave us in the train. Being a neighboring country, it has almost the same climatic conditions as of the states of north-eastern India. So as it was the month of May, the weather was extremely hot. Read the rest of this entry →
In the mystic alleys of Delhi (II) - Phool Wallon Ki Sair
On September 27, 2008 during an act of terrorism at Sarai Bazaar, Mehrauli less than two Kms away from the famous Qutub Minaar, a small boy Santosh, in an endeavour to help the passer by motor cyclist, lost his life and some others were seriously injured. As a homage to Santosh and to pray for the speedy recovery of the badly injured persons, I decided to write this post, as the Sarai Bazaar is very closely located to the focal point of the annual festivities called “Phoolwalon Ki Sair” which are held every year, after the monsoon has washed away the heat and dust of the summer.
