Mahantji Memoirs

SHRI MAHANT INDIRESH CHARAN DASS JI.(Photo courtesy sgrrdarbar.org)

One of the fondest memories I have from SGRR school days is meeting with Mahantji. Even though, there were several branches of SGRR school throughout Doon and adjoining areas, the talaab branch was especially fond to him since it is probably one of the first branches of the schooling system set by the Gurudwara Sahib. The location of the school is very strategic as well. There is the Gurudwara Sahib and the Jhandaji on one side followed by a big talaab (pond) and then right across the talaab is the school. Because of the vicinity of the school, he would often come to the school during his spare time in the afternoons. These were really special times for all of us kids at school. Clad in starched cotton coat, turban and white churidaars accompanied by juttis, when he spoke in his powerful voice from behind his white moustache and beard, he looked damn impressive. It was an important task for all of us to touch his feet, and we took great pride in being able to do so. He would sometimes hold one of us in his arms, and that made the day special.

Facade of Shri Guru Ram Rai Darbar. Our school was right across.(Photo courtesy sgrrdarbar.org)

When he wouldn't show up at the school, bunch of us kids would take it upon us to meet him at his quarters at Darabar Sahib. These visits were very special as we really enjoyed exploring the rest of the Gurudwara besides meeting him. There were dingy and dark corridors with very old rooms, and ghosts and witches surely lived in some of them, we believed then. There were stairs going up from several places and if one took them, it would be very hard to find one's way back. Besides loitering around in the corridors, we also enjoyed playing in the garden area. We were especially fond of the the supari trees and the shahtoot trees. These served as nice dessert after our lunch nibbles. One of out favorites pastimes was to sit by the fish pond in front of the marble minarette Gurudwara Ji. Small, colorful fish swam in the crystal clear water under dense trees, and soothed our souls. Even though I was really fond of studying and used to have a good time in the class, this particular activity would become hard to leave behind during the lazy afternoons. Mahantji's chamber was kind of in the center of the living area of the Darbar Sahib. It was a big room full of old and heavy but interesting things. Right across the door was a big chair where he would sit and receive us, and adjoining the living room was his private chambers. Sometimes, when he was resting there, we would get a chance to play in the main room. We would jump on the thick mattresses and study the inornate objects strewn around. But, he would always come out of his bedroom sooner or later and would sometimes offer us something nice to eat.

A supari tree.(Photo courtesy en.wikipedia.org)

During early eighties, he seemed especially concerned about our english speaking abilities. Even though the school was english medium, the spoken english wasn't enforced in any sense. The medium only meant that the books were all in english. With so much emphasis on english language and it deciding the quality of a school and the students alike, he took some special measures to bring up the quality. Young teachers, who recently graduated from "true" english medium schools of the likes of St. Joseph's Academy, were hired. They were really impressive, especially to me, for first, they spoke fluent english, and then they were young and creative unlike many of our other teachers. I will perhaps talk about teachers in a separate entry. Grammar cheatsheets, that had simple sentences covering basic rules, were distributed to all. A retired teacher from the Doon school was also hired as the principal. He introduced one-to-one discussion sessions based on stories from text books with one student asking questions based on stories and another answering. The teachers tried and made sure that all the possible questions and answers were covered and learnt by heart in an attempt not to ruin the sessions that nonetheless beat the purpose of it. In the end they turned out well, though and gave Mahantji some satisfaction, and us a foundation of spoken English.

Mahantji passed on a few years ago but these and other memories remain etched in my heart. May his soul rest in peace.

Trip to Butoli-(Flora and Fauna- Goodbye)

One shy little bird Chriped in our ear...............' We shall overcome'

Mr Langhoor does not want to be photographed.

......Here we are(goodbye my dear)

Trip to Butoli - (Concluding part) Taking a bow to majestic Bhadraj

When we reached the head of the river we were to take down, we realized that this river was actually starting from the Bhadraj itself (at least we thought it was Bhadraj and would to like to keep it that way). In fact, from where we were standing, we could clearly see Bhadraj, standing tall and proud. In fact, it was so close, we could have almost stretched and touched it.

Possibly Bhadraj from out point of descent

There was just a little bit of stream in the river. The water was crystal pure and flowed with beautiful, soft sound that echoed through the entire region. Once again we didn't see a single human being througout our descent, only a few langoors (Dinu, can u post a pic). The river was full of loose soil that made walking a little difficult. As we descended, the air got purer and purer as if this part of the world was never corrupted by man. We sat down in the middle of the river with high hills on either side and birds humming a beautiful song. That one intimate moment was worth the whole trek I thought, such was the kick of it. Dinu then played nice soft music on his cell phone at one point that just melted away in the ears creating an instant meditative effect.

We took this river on the way down

The trek down was really long I have to admit. There was no strain on any part of the body but the knees that took all the pressure. When we hit the plane, the sun itself was preparing for its final leg of the day's journey but decided to give us one last darshan setting on the edge of one of the hills. The coolness of the wind was most welcoming. We were not too sure of how to get to doonga or belonwaala at this point. We just continued walking. Surprisingly, at several points, we noticed some life like movement, but when we went nearby, there was nobody to be found. Dinus called it hallucination like seeing water in a desert, but I disagreed. I thought there was defintely a wandering soul trying to tell us something. At one point, though, we did find a couple of local boys who were trying to catch fish in the little water that was there in the river for dinner, and got directions for doonga from them. We also decided to finish off the rest of the food at this point.

Sunset near Doonga village.

At the same time, on the other side of India, Mayank was riding the train to Doon. Little did he know of the sinister plot that was at play that was about to strike him. Mayank, may be you can write a bit about the incidence and your observations and theories about the incidence.

Doonga was still abt 100m or may 200 higher than the river, and one last ride up was a challenge. Dinu was absolutely broken by now, and I had to resort to the military tactics a little bit to motivate him to continue climbing. We covered the distance in no time, passing the ruins of the temple that was once location for a mala sinha movie (anybody knows which movie, please!). Just when we hit Dinu's uncle's house, the last streaks of daylight passed away. Uncle had, anxiously, his eyes set on the road as it got darker and darker. He had just started to get worried about us, but eventually Dinu kept his pride of a garhwaali and we made it back just in the nick of time.

In retrospect, we couldn't conquer Bhadraj, but the fact is, somewhere inside, we never thought we could even make it to Butoli. So, it was a good starter trek and something that motivated us to continue exploring the great himalayas as and when time permitted. Lets plan for something bigger, next time, Dinu !!

Trip to Butoli- Flora and Fauna (I)

Wild Animals as expected by Alok were not there, in thick of afternoons you do not encounter 'Guldaars'(Its a small panther like hill cat known to lift cattle and babies and very frequent in this area) but creepy spiders thick like palm of your hands were aplenty.(Sorry for interruption, to be contd.)

Trip to Butoli - (Part 4) Tea at panditji's house

With our souls replenished, we started with full vigour, marching on towards Butoli. This leg of the trek was all uphill, and the entire area was covered with dense trees. There were no phone signals, and no other person to be seen anywhere. The thought of getting lost and not being able to contact anybody outside was dreadful. But the intimacy with the purest of nature kept us going. Before the start of the trek, Dinu also mentioned about the possibility of wild animals in this forest. Other than langoors, we didnt really encounter much of wild life, though. On one occasion, we came face to face with a herd of buffaloes who were probably coming back from their lunch trip. Both them and us stood still on either ends of the trail for a long while, confused and scared not knowing what's going to happen next. In my mind, I was seeing them running towards us with their horns aimed directly at us. In that case there was no way for us to escape because on one side was the hill and on the other valley. But the buffaloes turned out to be more intelligent than us. They discovered a side trail behind the trees, walked up there and waited for us to pass. We bowed to them, took a sigh a relief, and moved on. All the hard walk up made us really thirsty and we ended up drinking a lot of water. I started worrying about the shortage of water, but gods were with us that day. Just when we thought this trail was never going to end, all of a sudden, we descended on a flat area, out into the open. This point gave out a spectacular view of the valley and the villages on the mountain on the other side of the valley. Clearly, Butoli wasn't far, now.

The village across the valley - the first glimpse of civilization after out hard trek uphill brought warmth in our eyes

Just a little later, we also met a herder, who confirmed that the village around the corner was indeed Butoli. We had made it. We were not at the roof of the world, of course, and yet we felt at the top. Bhadraj of course was totally out of the question at that point. In fact, just the thought of going back by the same trail, another encouter with buffaloes and hopping in the river sent shivers down our spines. What if it became dark while we were still in the river. For a second, I thought it would be nice to just spend the night at Butoli and proceed to Bhadraj the next morning. In fact, the Butoli resident was a nice host and offered several times, a resting place for the night. However, Dinu got suscipious and we decided to start descending. Luckily, we were told about a couple of alternate trails to go back down. One of them, that we settled for, was to take a river all the way down. This river of course was different. There were no boulders and there was no water. We thought anything other than going back through where we came from would be a good route at this point.

Butoli village. We were more than happy to make it this far and miss Bhadraj

Before we did that, though, we got to spend some time at Butoli. It was a very small village with just a handful of people. We met Babu, there, who was painting the house of one panditji who lived somewhere in the city and came to the village on Diwali. The residents were mainly farmers and herders. In every family, according to Babu, most kids were given education and then were sent to the city for a job, but one kid stayed behind to carry on the legacy of the family, take care of the fields, pet animals, etc. Babu was that kid for his family. Again he was very polite and nice to talk to. He brought out chairs and had his wife prepare tea for us. It was a bit odd to accept tea from a stranger like that, but the fact was we were so tired, we were in no position to say no to a hot cup of tea. Having rested well and savored the tea in a nice steel cup, we started our descent back to Doonga and from there on to Belonwala. (To Be Contd.)

Chilling and discussing life with Babu at Butoli.

Let it snow.. let it snow.. let it snow !!

The first substantial snow of the season hit Chicago over the weekend. As traditional, a couple of deers showed up in our backyard in search of food. This was pretty exciting for Kabir & Krishi. They dressed up in heavy clothing they could hardly walk in and helped me with shovelling the snow away from the driveway. Neighbor across the road had just put up the christmas lighting the day before that created a nice contrast against the white blanket over the area during the lazy hours of the morning. Here, posting some pics.

Trip to Butoli - (Part 3) Red bridge conquered !

This is where we couldn't find another trail. This marked the merging with river and ending of the canal on the right.

Even though we had still covered a good distance and had enjoyed the natural surroundings thoroughly, yet we thought that if a mission was set, it ought to be accomplished to some extent. We were not sure of Bhadraj anymore, because we knew we wont be able to make it back before dark now when we had lost track, but we surely wanted to make it to Butoli. On one side of us, on the mountain, we could see a beautiful field that we initially mistook for Butoli or at least we thought that that would lead us to Butoli. After searching for a while, when we couldnt find any access to the field, we turned around and took to the canal once again hoping to find another outlet to Butoli. Luckily we met a khachar-waala (donkey man) not too far away who gave us clearer instructions this time to Butoli.

We were very much right on track. We were supposed to walk through the river up and that's when we would find a bridge and from there we had to go left to Butoli. So we turned around once again, came back to the river, and then started the hardest part (at least we thought so at that time). There was good enough water in the river and it was laded with big boulders everywhere. We hopped from boulder to boulder, walking sometimes on one edge and sometimes the other. Dinu had become a little sluggish because of over-eating puri-aloo which i tried to stop him from eating that much, who can stop a wild boar when he is eating. In his sluggishness, he stumbled in the middle of the river a few times and completely wet his socks, shoes, and trousers. He took it in the stride though and accepted that as part of adventure. We kept our spirits up and energies intact, and continued hopping on.

The treacherous river that took us to the red bridge, eventually.

And then we spotted the old but awesome red bridge in the distance. This was indeed a moment of triumph. We were no where close to Bhadraj, but still it was a milestone that we initially thought we wouldnt be able to accomplish. Little did we realize that even Butoli wasn't that nearby either and we were actually standing at the foot of the hill that we had to climb to reach Butoli. The next leg up to Butoli was the toughest test of our rusted bodies we had taken in a long time. (TO BE CONTD.)

The triumphant duo take a breather on the bridge.

Saga of a lame horsie

( Painting coutesy Ms Joshita Rawat)

My Nana(peace be always with his soul) or nanoo as new generation might say was a hardy simpleton who had flair for using English words despite being a two day old school dropout result of a overzealous masterjee and it always amused me whenever he had to attend natures call he called the place ‘Latring’ which had a urgent ring to it,but it always better than Dr Om parkash using the word in his favorite phrase “..Kya khaya tha?….tatti ! hui thee…..”[1],my maternal native place is predominantly Thakur abode or was till big emigration from Kangra (Himanchal) and Garhwal has made it place of mixed loyalities ..so we were Thakurs but it seemed something was missing, let me add a piece of history here ours is a Tomar Village{Tomars are both Jaat and Rajputs in western UP }and Rajput Tomars fame to history has been being traditional rivals of Chauhans {of Prithviraj fame} and before Prithviraj they ruled Delhi and clans was quite influensive over large parts of north India , before advent of television that there was tradition of ballads an ode to Alah-udal [2]used to be sung over whole this region and although Alah udal were considered anti party to Tomars my Nana used to fondly participate in these Baladic nights, story also goes in crude rural parlance that in some small Tomar enclave power was lost to Gugaa Zahar veer[3] over a small mutton party, this used to be told to me my Nani.
Sorry for that little diversion..we continue with Nana’s disappointment in being Thakur without frills..list of mandatory things were made, pagri kept starched in trunk was left as it is since it was a cumbersome little accompaniment better left for days of court summons{ Indian judicial system with their dates and rural people fixation for land..it was potent combination}, thick silver ‘out of shape’ jewellary kept inside left untouched, Sharp Pathal(Indian blade with long handle) was already in use although with mundane job of cutting wood, traits of classical thakurs were already overtaken by nephews with their drunken brawls and fighting over land..so that was a big issue ultimately it was decided a horse is real ornament of a Rajput..here I am talking about 1976..good 32 years before this time, the village kumbhar was summoned( those days Kumbhars were the guys with Horses and these were I tell you proper horses not some Khachhars) and it was decided to visit nearest Haat at Sahaspur for top notch breed..well! top notch breeds are not that easily available that too for a proud but poor farmer but than it was decided to posses one… than sobeit,horse was bought albeit of female variety with a little crooked walk…… but than females do look good with their lopsided gait..isn’t it!!!!!.
[1] Please go through undersigned Blog entry on “ Jhatpat “{ its about instant photographers}
[2] Bundelkahndi rajput heroes
[3] While travelling in Himanchal near paonta you must have seen statue of a warrior on horse

8 year old artists images of her sibling.

Family as unit, Bijal stands out since she is the subject, it was done six months back when first tentative crawling of bijal started, Watch my tunic straight from Chandamama.

Bijal's First outing around same time, watch out Seema's Superwoman type 'Chunni'.

Artists depiction of soft toy very-2 accurate and look at the pillow the color matches perfectly, this was before Mundan so crop of hair is there.

First walking steps of Bijal, now family has faded out and doll is the companion, look at mountains and sun rising also if you look closely one tentative teeth is sticking out that's our recent Bijal

Be there with more..... till than enjoy this ship

"Motorcycle Diaries"-- Movie tribute to CHE.

Ernesto che Guevara………….The most inspiring name world over and always a morale booster for down trodden, outcasts, people on the fringes of society, he carried the idea of world as one unit and above petty nationalism, regionalism, boundaries and language barriers ..but although I do not identify with his ideology….believing strongly in India as a nation and free commerce as a way out, I still believe overcoming prejudiced social hurdles for unhindered growth, there are many communities, tribes, castes, energies which need to liberated and here che as ideology wins.

The Movie ‘Motorcycle diaries’, journey of friends Alberto & Ernesto across the American continent starting from Buenos aires- Argentina on their motorbike affectionately called ‘Mighty one’ through Andes into Peru via Chile where they see natives ousted from there ancestral lands by greedy mining corporations, in Peru they encounter proud bearers of INCA traditions still and that strikes something within Ernesto, their three months stint in a leper colony within green forests gives that humanist edge to churning mind of Ernesto, the Mighty AMAZON river acts a metaphor for divide between healthy and unhealthy of this world which Ernesto crosses over by sheer physical effort.
Over all a greatly shot movies , just saw it on ZEE MGM morning show..beautiful south American locales(Mayank would recall his Peru journey…where that thick blanket like jacket which you bought from Lima is?), its like Budhha achieving enlightenment , Che transits into the revolutionary leader immediately after this and fights shoulder to shoulder with Castro for Cuban revolution and than moves over to Bolivia, his death a conspiracy was jolt to South America .

Long live Che....Long live Subhash...Long live Savarkar....Long live Mahatama .

Champion Inhouse- you win some you lose some.

1)After recent successes Joshita again won a consolation price..the 4th position in an inter school art competition, it was more of societal awareness kind competition rather than a creative one, the topic was ' energy conservation'

She has got a very modern looking tiffin as the prize and pride in fact that her group was made of artists three years her seniors.

2) In an Intra amity talent search she got listed

http://www.amity.edu/aice/pdf%5C8_7.pdf although there are various other talented chidren as well, it should act as a motivator for her.

Bhadraj

Beautiful Bhadraj as seen from Belonwala, Dinu's ancestral land. This was our destination of the day. Unfortunately, we had to turn back from Butoli for 2 reasons. 1, because of Dinu's lumpy body, we ended up walking slower and had to take several unnecassry breaks, and 2, the trek is not so widely used anymore and it was hard not to lost track. By the time we reached Butoli, we barely had time to descend before it became dark. Therefore, we had to end our trek at Butoli. Anyway, there is always next time.

India Trip ‘08: The arriving, Part III

Oct, 19, when we reached the platform, Manish came back with good news – my reservation had been confirmed. I was traveling first class for the first time on an Indian train, and there was certain amount of anticipation for the fellow passengers. 1st class cabins contains 4 berths behind closed doors.

The first cabin mate was one Sudhir Shukla, who was totally in the mood of sleeping and avoided all conversation attempts from me. He yelled twice at the attendant for not having laid the sheets yet on the berth. Once done, he covered himself up all the way and went to sleep. The second one came in a little bit a later, was a swamiji going to Haridwar. The third one looked at me from head to toe with extremely hostile manners, but eventually shifted to another cabin because he had to get off at Roorkee. The toilets on the coach were unusually neat and clean - -a highlight of Laloo’s regime I guess.

Once the train started moving, everyone went to sleep except for me. For me, it was the peak of the day based on American time. The train reached Meerut at around 1:15 AM. Baby, my sister, and her family came to meet me there. We hardly exchanges smiles and gifts, and the train started moving. Once train departed from there, I tried to get some sleep, but couldn’t.

The train reached Doon before time and therefore stayed put for 15 minutes or so at the station before. Nobody was in a hurry to get off as this is the last stop of the train and also the wee hours of the morning everybody was sleeping soundly including Manish. I ringed him twice but he didn’t budge. Family was eagerly waiting at the station. Krishi was almost half asleep and didn’t react when I held him in my arms. Papa looked much older with hair having greyed even more.

While driving home in the auto-rickshaw, I noticed that all the roads were in great condition and also every few meters there was rumble strip speed breakers that were more of nuisance than safety. The report is that the mileage of vehicles have dropped significantly and hence consumption of petrol gone up because one has to slow down to avoid a bump. Anyways, it felt great to be back to the city I grew up in.

‘The Day or Jackal’ or ‘The Jackal’-The Old wine in new bottle…. I would say.

For all ye illiterates of world or word. The name Fredrick Forsyth may or may not ring bell.

The book by author a classical thriller set in Gaullist France, revolves around conspiracy to assassinate French president ‘ Charles de Gaulle’ by a ruthless mercenary assassin known by alias of ‘ Jackal’ the ending is never really in doubt because it is more or less historical fiction, an insurgent group hires a professional assassin to kill the president of France. Standing in the assassin's way is an unimposing French detective; the compelling feature of the novel is the battle of wits between the assassin and the unlikely detective.

The 1973 movie is verbatim based on the novel and sticks to plot very honestly actors are unknown to me but still a taut thriller keeping me on the edge of seat, now ‘ The Jackal ‘ is different matter altogether with starcast of Bruce willis as ‘ Jackal’ and Richard gere as his worthy adversary and with Dolby stereo sound its a treat, plot is loosely based on novel but the essence remains same, it seems 60s jackal is transferred to newly liberated Russia with all salient points of novel and older movie replaced in new setting.

Good time pass...............both of them and I did not face any issue watching both B2B on VCD player.

Trip to Butoli- (Part 2) getting nearer to Bhadraj

Mr Jain with his shorts and skinny hairy legs looked almost like the big spiders infesting the route to ‘ Muaal doong’ ……..no! its not a place ruled by Dong of Dongrilla.

Doonga village once the shooting spot for a Mala sinha starrer, is now almost a SPA village with home to many a Delhiwallas with their villas, the canal by the colony being developed by a builder takes you to the ‘Muaal doong’, the fountain head for this canal called a ‘ Doonga’ canal, its one of the practical work done by the government under its eighties extension scheme called ‘ Lab to land’, this canal has made possible for villagers to take crop of famed doon Basmati rice, Ma says she has saved some for me from this years ‘Batao’ or ‘ third portion’ being given by our tiller.

We reached this fountain head after much huffing-puffing by Mr Jain and in between a break for his pulling on khakis over his shorts,so far he was all ga –ga over the raw beauty of this place, I do not pity him since nearest rural Mr Jain has experienced is either Gobindgarh or Kandhla but with this spot he almost fainted with joy, it was nature unspoilt at its best and although in thick of habitation the route made it so that it looked almost like a virgin place discovered by us( Alok please post few pics of river) we decide to take a break and opened our lunch packs and ate like never before after an hours break we were up and ready few stretching exercises and off we were….. and than!!!!….we lost track.( To be contd either by Alok or me)

Birth & Death, Part 2 - Naniji

Not that I remember her as a young lady. She was always old for me. But I remember her as a lady of huge energy and powerful voice. And in fact all her children are extremely energetic as well. For some reason, I didn't pick up this trait from her, or may be the modern lifestyle made me lazy. She always got up before the day break, took her shower and then went to temple every day without fail. Later on, when she was less able to get out of the house, she still continued her routine and performed puja at the temple inhouse, rather. During my India trips every year or two, she did look weaker and older, yet her energy and activity remained the same. This time, when I went to see her, though, I was in for a shock. I was there for about half-day, and she mostly just sat in one chair, with her food & water served. She walked only to visit bathroom. She was mostly just bones with arched body and shorter height, and had dim eyes with black circles and her head bent, confidence totally shaken. Most of all she didn't even recognize me at first, and I had to remind her 3 times during 3 hours about who I was and I still didn't know how much she remembered me. Few months ago, she went through a hip replacement surgery after having broken it by slipping. That, it seemed was a big blow on his physical and mental abilities. But, it was still heart-warming to see her passion for life still alive. Instead of just going to sleep, she maintained interest in the conversations happening around her; only this time she mostly just listened. And, when asked for a picture, she made sure to put her shawl over her head so she looked good.

I really don't know if I am ever to going to see her again. I hope and pray I do. But somewhere down in my heart, I am not resisting death that much any more. I have come back with a deeper realization of the impermaneancy & shortness of life. I hope this realization is deep enough to stick around. I am resolving this moment to get out of the rat race that I have reluctantly entered over the last 5 years. The same old calm and relaxation has pervaded my body. I know it's not going to be easy to escape the pull of the rats, but I am going to try harder. We all should, I think.

Tonga ride in Meerut

Birth & Death, Part 1

When I was a kid, I never even thought about change. Everything was forever as far as I knew. Even if it wasn't, next year was always decades away. Time used to walk a slow walk then. Even later on when I was out of home to earn a living, the vigor of youth was flowing through the veins, and I always felt that I had all the time in the world to accomplish my goals. Then people 2 generations up start falling down, and I did notice death to some extent, but still didn't feel it.

But there came a point when I couldn't anymore escape realizing that time was really passing very fast and before I would realize I might very well be bed-ridden praying to god to give me a decent death. Over the last few months, I have been going sort of through a half mid-life crisis, with my mind continuously occupied with birth and death, and the purpose of any worldy actions at all especially the greed, stress and tension involved while doing them. More so as my dad turns 70 this december, I have come to realization that I can't postpone anymore the 'agenda' of spending as much time as possible with him while he still has traces of youth in him. During my recent trip to India, I came across a few sights that generated sadness in my heart and comforted me at the same time with my nightmares about aging (that I am not alone). I came face to face with change and aging. All the people that I looked up to as I was growing up - my aunts and uncles had visibly become old. In fact, many of them looked oddly disfigured - fatness, wrinkles, arched bodies, limped walk, rotten teeth, are to name some. On the same day, 2 of our older acquaintances bid their final adieu - one from my dad's generation, and the other from his immediate generation up. The most saddening of all was my naniji's state that I wanted to specifically talk about here. Stay tuned ...

Trip to Butoli…(Part 1) unfinished agenda of Bhadraj

We started little early, I had just reached doon from Guragon for Deewali a day earlier and it was 24th October and as decided a month back Alok who was in doon for week almost now was ever prepared, he was still not out of self inflicted jet lag…. Mr jain was showing all signs of desis gone American, he even asked would in india diapers for babies would be available and strongest signal came when he started out in shorts( That’s another matter when in first kilometer itself he switched to Khakis).

The Car drive from Gurgaon to doon still lingered with Calf muscles ache and sleepiness in the eyes but than for a man honour is more important than minor troubles like body ache and as promised to Mr Jain, I was ready with my Aloo stuffed paranthas and omelltte by 7 sharp in morning.

Coming back to day before drive , the Delhi-Doon highway is super duper now , although still unfinished in patches the drive was smooth , its been my 9th or 10th ‘own car’ trip to doon and I enjoy this driving very much, I have used all routes including one from Yamunanagar – Jagadhari - Paonta and also Shamli- Loni-Delhi , Mr Sharma’s recommendation of customized ‘ air bagged’ vehicle certainly spurs me on but sometimes I think was the extra cost justified?

Sorry for little diversion .. Alok and me on my Estillo rode towards Belonwala and parked the vehicle at a relatives place, bags and all we were on the way towards the Bhadraj( To be contd.. either by Alok or me)

India Trip ‘08: The arriving, Part II

Oct 18, The check out process at Delhi airport was expectedly short & sweet, something that you aren’t necessarily used to for Air India flight for eg. I walked out of the scanning eyes and questions of the custom officers as a winner, and rolled my trolley through the sea of people in the waiting area. Manish, my brother-in-law had been waiting for hours, though, and thought I took a long time (how perspectives can be different). The first impressions of India, this time as well, were those of a foreigner. It was still dark out, and there was a blanket of strange haze over the entire area. I enquired, but nobody was sure whether it was fog, or pollution. The first new thing that I noticed was the huge gas cylinder in the trunk of the taxi and took up 3/4th of the room. The taxis and autos now run on CNG in Delhi, and, supposedly, this has reduced pollution levels significantly in the capital.

Next up was the train journey from Nizamuddin railway station to Doon. The maruti van we boarded to go to the station looked like a match box. The van shrinks further every time I see it, but fits well on the busy Indian roads. The traffic for one wasn’t that bad thanks to the wee hours of the morning. After watching news and talking to people back in India, over the period of 4 years, I had developed an image of changed India. Unfortunately, so far I had seen none. I didn’t have to wait long, though. As soon as we reached Nizamuddin, I got the first glimpse of prospering India.

Right next to the station, I spotted the Comesum restaurant, a food chain. This seemed to have been modeled based on the food courts back in the west. The place wasn’t built on a big piece of land but still was able to pack in variety of food stalls, plenty of seating area, and a party hall on the first floor. In fact, right next to the entrance, I also noticed a little carousel for kids and a pick-a-soft-toy game that is often placed at the entrance of a Walmart store in the US. It also played jazzy music from time to time. The menu had a wide variety of food items to satisfy your passion of the day, starting from North India style of food to South Indian, and also Chinese items, namely the noodle. On one side was big sweet stall, and on the other a setup for mocktails, and then a kulfi wala in the middle of no where. Mostly young crowd continued pouring in throughout the evening. We ordered North Indian style, and man the food was great. Back in the US, this is one thing we miss. It’s hard to understand why the cooks over there are not able to pick up the recipe from here. The food items are completely bland in taste, and in fact lately, most Indians, including me, have been giving up on Indian food. The new fan is the Gora.

Next to the restaurant, homeless still slept on the naked road in a weird position. The lifelessness of his body and posture brought pity. Right next to him, 2 dogs slept as well who looked much more comfortable, though. The coolie still charged 50 Re to carry our luggage to the platform and into the train. Manish starting walking away saying that it’s not worth more than 30 (a bargaining style I have totally forgotten now), but I asked him to do it for 50 as I thought it was cheap. May be I was wrong, but on the first day I was tempted to spend a little more as I felt the poor man could make a little extra money. (TO BE CONTD)

India Trip ‘08: The arriving, Part I

Oct 17, The day finally arrived, and the dull, but interesting bachelorhood days were brought to an end. We started off a little early for airport, roughly at 4PM because we expected traffic; Fridays are usually days for weekly business travelers to head back home. But we were wrong, and we were near the airport in about ½ hr. With so much time to kill, we decided to visit the food court right before the airport exit on I-90 highway. The airport was only 5 minutes away, and we could leave whenever we wanted. This food court is built across the interstate, like a bridge, covered from the top and has glass walls. We sat on a table by the window hanging almost in the middle of the highway. We sipped on our Starbucks coffees while looking at the oncoming cars zoomed past under us at high speeds. It felt almost like being in a 3D movie, where they intentionally throw things at you to create an illusion. I said goodbye to Sameer at 5:30, checked in stuff and boarded at 7ish, but we only got out of there 1 hr late, at 8:30. Eventually, there is some gross weight requirement, at New Delhi airport, for the plane, and when they measured it, the weight exceeded the maximum allowed. So, then, they had to ask some of the last minute passengers to get off, and then we had to wait for their checked-in items to be unloaded.

This was my first trip by American airlines. This is the only direct flight from Chicago to Delhi, taking 14 hours. Each passenger gets his own individual TV screen running multiple shows, so that helps kill some time. The food was not so bad, but the seats not very comfortable. I tossed and turned the entire night, but the lady next to me went straight to sleep the moment the dinner was over, and got up only a few hours before landing. She seemed like a frequent traveler and exhibited comfort right from the moment she showed up. She also knew some of the other minute but important details about the plane, for eg, when the seat in front was reclined, she knew the TV could be pulled out a little for better view. Then she used the foldable head strap to provide support while sleeping. I greedily kept an eye out for her and followed all her hat tricks. In the end she took it way too far though. We were cruising at 7000 feet almost ready to land and everybody was belted in their seats. It was morning time and the lavatory had been busy. She thought it was perfect opportunity to empty her bladder, but the moment she got up, she was immediately yelled back by the staff member.

We had taken off late from Chicago, but reached New Delhi airport 5 minutes before time. It reminds you of one of the remarks from the standup comedian, Seinfeld. If the plane could cover the distance in 13 hrs, why would it do it in 14 on timely flights? Why not go as fast as you can? There has to be some logic behind this, I am sure. This flight also has an unusual route. It goes north, first, crossing Canada, and Iceland, and, then down and east then into Russia, eventually into Afghanistan and Pakistan before finally entering India. Again, the logic says that if you want to go from point A to B, you go straight, which is over Europe. But according to the airlines, this is the most efficient (time & fuel wise) way to cover this long the distance. They also mentioned that this was the second longest flight for American, the first being the one from Delhi to Chicago. (TO BE CONTD)

Special Pasta

The very first day, itself, when I met him in the office, he talked about it. It was on his mind for a long time. He had heard so many stories from other desis about this special pasta that when we discussed Friday lunch, he immediately brought up this place. The only problem was that it was 25 miles away, so the pasta always ended up eaten tomorrow. He marketed it well, though. He said that since we were going by I355 (highway), it wont take more than 30 minutes one way and with 30 minutes to eat, we could make it in 1 1/2 hrs. Yet, every Monday we met and discussed last Friday's lunch we promised to go there that Friday.

Until almost 10 months later, that one Friday Raj & I finally decided to give it a try. Our other two Friday lunch regulars excused out, but I with my Bachelor spirits kicking decided to do it alone with Raj. It took us exactly 35 minutes to hit the place. The restaurant was located in a hotel and when we went in, only one table was full, not very heartening I would say. We seated ourselves a bit apprehensively and enquired about the chef who prepared the special pasta. We took a sigh of relief when she came out finally to prepare it up for us. She looked more Hispanic to me than Italian but as long as she prepared good pasta, we didn't care.

She invited us over to the pasta bar, and asked us to choose out ingredients for the pasta. The bar had bow tie & spaghetti style of pastas, choice of marinara or alfredo sauces, various kinds of vegis including green peppers, beans, carrot, etc. On the side were various kinds of condiments like garlic, ginger, chili peppers and other spices. I got big spoons of garlic, ginger and peppers added in besides everything else. She put them all a small pan and simmered it up on a small stove right on the bar for a couple of minutes and served it up in a bowl. Hungry as we were, we attacked the hot and steamy pasta and thought that it totally lived up to the hype that was created over almost a year. We were out of there in literally 1/2 hr and back in the office in the next 1/2. Our colleagues hadn't made much of progress with their work, and totally regretted having missed the pasta when we described it to them.

Coincidently it also turned out to be our last week in that office as we moved to the client's new setup the next week. I walked out a happy man because I kept my promise and fulfilled Raj’s long time wish.

Jhatpat

Guy was there invariably with Box camera balancing on tripod and tin trunk sitting on wooden stool which made up the ‘Film developing lab’, used chemical bottles strewn carelessely on the road, the location was in front of temple near 'Ghosi gali' almost bordering the 'Khusiram library' and across the Road ‘Himalayan Arms’ with its picture of Mountain shikari holding the rifle tagging along the dog again bordered with clinic of Late Dr Omparkash who with his slow mannerism and slower speech made things difficult for naive “..Kya khaya tha…Tatti..kaisi hui” he was old school doctor who believed in starving the viral fever to death and for us few unfortunates it always meant weeklong weakness brought about by Moongdal(Green gram) eaten twice a day.

In this age of Digital photo development it all seems laughable and for that matter ‘Jhatpat’ photograph was laughing matter those days as well but commerce was so less that passport sized photographs done by professional photograpers took more than week to be delivered and ‘Jhatpat’ guy was a real succour to hundreds who decended everyday across hills needing the pictures for some legal matters or for licence or for college admission, it was highly affordable and it was instant.. no matter the ultimate outcome on cheap paper was more likelihood of sketches these days prepared by Police of Bomb blast suspects, he gave you so many copies for that much amount..it could have fulfilled lifetime requirement.

I think 20 years might have gone when last of these breed went extinct but that’s life for you , things change and generally they change for better.

Eins..Zwei..Drei

It was early eighties and Doordarshan had just started beaming two hr capsules on second Saturdays, I mean Mussorie antenna was ably catching signals for this transmission from Delhi....further explaining this, we were 100% sure Musorrie guys were doing their jobs properly this time rather than loitering about after opening the signal box which was a common complaint in doon valley those days wherin everyone thought blank/snowy TVs were fault of mussorie staff….it was all so innocent and mind you not only us but all mohalla firmly believed in this.

So coming back to this transmission which had just started consisted of recorded capsules handed over by “ Transtel ”..the deustcheland operator and consisted of movies, ‘Old fox’ and various other programmes but for us best was ‘Telematch’.

This gone Wednesday (08.10.2008) I just happened to surf the channels and voila!!!!the Familiar cry of “eins..zwei..drei” German for One..two ..Three reached my ear, POGO channel was actually airing the telematch ….same old episodes!! And it seemed audience were stuck in some kind of time machine ..“Bee Gee” type hair styles, long side burns and same freshness in villages, it was fight of two villages “Zimmers’ and “Oreim” or something like that.

If you remember it was easiest foreign programme to be understood by kids despite being in German and now they have made it further interesting with commentary in hindi and its very informative as well with quite an insight on German demography, tourism potential of these villages and best of all its all coloured now………….Joshita is totally hooked and more so by the knowledge that her father watched same episodes.

But my dear…..things do change we watched these programmes when were in our teens and still took immense pleasure , now small kids love it and by the time they would reach the comparative age what interests them is a question……………………….. that’s generation gap for you.

Bachelorhood: Rise of a banjara

When I was growing up in Doon, the banjaras of chakrata road fascinated me. I thought they were cool people who lived a free life. Most of all, their women were tall and well built, and when they walked in their ghagra-cholis, they looked really graceful to me. When they worked with the big hammer, beating on hot metal, they looked surreal. Their men mingled freely and chatted and laughed the whole day. The busyness of chakrata road didn’t seem to impact this carefree attitude of theirs. And this vision, subconsciously, inspired me throughout my life. When it came to choosing college, I made sure that I went to the farthest place (not that I had much of choice). For jobs, as well, I opted for the farthest and the most fascinating places.

But this last few weeks, after the family left for India, I got a chance to take this idea to another level. I literally moved out of house and took it to the road. Weekdays, I have been living with a friend whose family also went to India, and then if weekends permit, we go to my house. I keep 4 bags in my car - one for my clothes, etc, second for tennis accessories , then a bag for gym, and finally my laptop. Then I am carrying 3 types of footwear, 2 types of socks, 3 types of pants, and various types of t-shirts.

So on a typical day, I get up early in the morning, put on my tennis dress and shoes, pack my office clothes in the tennis bag, and shoot off to play tennis near my tennis friend's house. Later on, I take a shower at his house, put on the office dress and shoes and go to work from there. In the evening, I change into my gym dress and shoes in the men’s room, stuff in my office clothing in the gym bag, finish off gym, and then somehow manage to drive back to my friend’s house. Sometimes, I will go to another friends place and sleep there, wherever I find a place to rest my body, basically, and then in the morning, back on the road with my bags all packed up.

And, for a while I loved it. I was always out of my own house and therefore I was always doing something, and there was no guilt about not doing anything. But lately, I am growing out of it. I am already missing family a lot, and mentally I am already half in India. I leave on Oct 17 which is only a few days away. But this routine was worth trying.

Hairied by Stylist

It was again summer , its surprising most of our misadventures or failed initiatives always originated in summers ,maybe it was conditioning developed over years of vacations in that period which let you drop your guard and led you to some actions without being aware of lopsided reactions.

Mr Jain after a long hibernation in Gurunanak was marked for Surat and swank city needed a swank hairstyle although at this juncture Surat was dirtiest town still, desire was getting something like a love child of curly locks of Ustad Zakir hussain and closed crop mane of Kabir Bedi and was all that yet needed a stylist of pure and distinct breed and what better name than Mr Novelty wallah---- The Natraj Nai, incessant chatter box and as usual his sitting with Mr Jain resulted in single way traffic of ideas and Mr Cocksure Nai went about the job in his perfectionist style and did achieve magic with hybrid of Madhuri’s curly locks and Sadhna’s front cut put together.

Mr Jain was heartbroken,on Gobind garh street the movers found shaker Mr Jain shaking the fingers through shaken hairs walking shakily through the wide avenue.

Workplace Bachchan

He was tall, and he had broad shoulders. He puffed up his hair, and he could talk endlessly even if there was no particular topic he was discussing. He exuded confidence in his deep voice and had got style in everything he did. That's why when we first came across him, his close resemblance to our bollywood superstar immediately earned him the title of Workplace Bachchan.

He enjoyed discussions. May be because he loved his own voice. He found perfect company in Bob (changing name to hide identity). Bob enjoyed discussions as well. Together, they spent hours discussing about every topic in the world. They talked about technology, economics, politics and about current affairs. Even though some people got irritated by this non-stop chat, we kind of started enjoying them, just like Kamal Hassan gets used to the film dialogue in Pushpak. We waited for him to get in in the morning and mesmerize us with his husky voice and magnetic personality. And, they eagerly waited for each other.

Then, Bob left. It got quiet all of a sudden. Bachchan started sitting quietly in his corner and talked to his computer instead, but something was eating him inside. He didn't care about his hair any more and often showed up without shaving, wearing shorts. Clearly, he missed talking to Bob. More than he, we missed their conversations. We were no longer able to focus on our work. The silence disturbed us. At the moment, when we thought we couldn't tolerate it any longer, God showed pity on us and sent Bill (fake name). We liked him right from the beginning as well. He was a very nice person but he had difficulty setting himself up with his new project, and since he sat next to Bachchan, he started asking questions, and this was how started another round of long discussions, but this time the topics were limited to technology only. We didn't mind. We never cared about the content of his talk anyway. We just wanted to hear that dark, deep, confident voice that brought warmth to our world and made life worth living. Life was beautiful again.

Bachchan often became part of our own conversations. While discussing our future plans, We thought how we could achieve the aura that he had. Could we go for some kind of surgery to get the kind of husky voice he had? What would we do about the height though? His manner of speaking was something we would have to learn, as well. Any growth plans that we thought of, we always said that no matter what, if we wanted to climb up the corporate ladder, we had to learn how to talk like him.

Just when things were getting back to normal, the bad news came. He was rolling off the project. We just couldn't understand why. This was an exciting new project that everybody wanted to work on. Why would a smart person like him let go of such an oppportunity. It so happended, that the decision was made by someone else for him. That was an eye opener. We kept thinking that he was a smart guy who had authority on each and every topic under the sun. We just couldn't understand how he could have made any mistake at all. And how could have anyone not gotten impressed by such a heavy personality. But the sun had set. He moved on and we tried to limp on as well.

The other day, I saw him sitting on the bar in the office kitchen eating his sandwich. He looked paler, leaner, and his hair was not that puffy anymore (ok, he had a haircut), and his voice wasn't the most dominant amongst the other speakers. Was this the end of Bachchan I thought? Perhaps, this was only the beginning of a long journey. Somehow, I knew in my heart that my hero would rise again and once again prove himself.

He is after all Bachchan.

Adventure in Himalayas- Transversing the Tehri.

It was an adventure which Alok/Mendi would not be aware of .

It was 1997 i think ..Mayank should correct me if wrong, my Bike still qualified as 'Cheetah' or black panther to be precise.

Evening we started on my Bike towards Rishikesh, we stayed put in a lodge ..still is there and i hope still charges rent of Rs 300/- quite steep for that era but it was very clean ..i mean furniture too was sparse but back view was panoramic with mighty Ganges flowing stealthily and far away temples of Muni ki reti merging with low hills of Himalayas, we had a royal thali for dinner at 'Chotiwala ' it was the time of year when Rishikesh nights are very quiet with very few Desi tourists and only firang hippie couples with their ' Hare ram' lungis /sarongs walking aimlessly , laughing hysterically swaying under influence of 'weed' , we came very late to the lodge, cool breeze by the side of ghats was very soothing.

Early morning we started for New Tehri, drive was just faboulous... its straight national highway towards Chamba and than onto Uttarkashi ..but we decided to turn towards New Tehri, It was freshly made town still and had very artificial looks , trees were yet to catch up and Ganges still flowed unbrindled, My freind Kailash Uniyal was there, he had made up arrangements for us to stay at Guest house of THDC ( monolith which controls everything connected with Tehri Dam) and than we took a jeep towards hill Campus of Pantanagar University- my Alma mater, its a better place than any commercial hill station, thickly wooded with Deodars and blue pine , it is known for its orchards of Apples, Apricot,Plum etc.

Evening it was party time with chicken prepared by a Garhwali cook who had worked in Russian embassy and we washed it down with Old monk Rum , sleep was peaceful.

We again started early towards Old Tehri..This area is totally submerged now..i remember it was bustling town still..hot and dusty,from Tehri we took upturn towards Agrakhaal or kaddukhaal ..Mayank would tell correctly we passed Old town, i still can vividly recollect the ' Clock tower' and ruined palace of Naresh , transverisng snaky roads and not so green hills we reached temple of ' Chandrabadni Mata', Temple is uphill and when you reach compound you find there is steep flight of stairs to reach the Devi, Pujari was local Garhwali Brahmin and infact he performed little Puja for us.

We were at last lag of journey and by afternoon we reached Devparyag, confluence of Alknanda and Bhagirathi..visited temple of Lord Ram build by Shankracharya..have had hearty meal here and than started towards Rishikesh.

(...to be contd)

Mussoorie, one summer

All I remember is it was summer. The memory is not that sharp any more. It was customary in those days to spend a night in Mussorie when ever we guys got together, mostly either during summar vacation, and later during Diwali breaks. It wasn't that cold yet, so it must have been summer break, when we were still in college. It was Mayank, Dinu, and I to be exact; that much I am sure of.

That morning, we reached the Musoorie bus stand near Doon railway station early, and decided to take a cab. Not that we were rich those days; pocket money was limited, but they had the system of cab sharing both up and back from Doon to Mussoorie, so it didn't turn out that expensive. Buses were old and oveloaded. But newly weds enjoyed them since they got to get cozy naturally.

I am using past tense here, because it's been a while I have been up there, so I don't know if any of this has changed. We strolled and chilled along the Mall road the whole day. Arcade games were big attraction in those days. I think they still have those machines up there. We wasted away some money on those. And we did all the usual stuff -- check out shops, ate corn, ate softy, etc. Mussoorie’s softies were just way too good and a must have any time you went there.

By dusk, we decided to look for a place to spend the night. We coundn't afford fancy hotels on Mall road in those days, and decided to go for a cheaper alternative. I don't remember any more, but somehow I knew of a Jain dharamshala not too far from Mall road. We hunted it down, and I mustered enough courage to talk to the attendant there. I wasn't sure if he would allow non-jains to stay there. But he didn't complain and gave us a single room. The room wasn't all that great. It was a single bed where three of us could hardly fit on. The toilet was attached, but it smelt badly, and there was no light. We spent the first hour just trying to adjust on the bed. Mayank was the first one to start snoring.

We got up, next morning, fairly fresh. The window provided a nice view of the valley. It was chilly out. We sipped on hot tea, and looked down at the fog rising up. The morning sun shone bright on the green mountain peaks, and with our eyes feeling fresh from good sleep, we felt as if we were reborn in a new world that had no pollution or chaos. It felt perfect.

We left the dharamshala and started walking towards the taxi stand. But before we left, we decided to go for Chatpate Paranthe (spicy potato bread). These were the best at Mussorie. In fact they were so popular, that there was a restaurant on every block. They were perfectly and evenly filled up with spicy meshed potatos, fried just right, and round in shape like the morning sun was. Hungry as we were, we ate like dogs. A hot cup of tea served as a perfect companion.

Rocking on, Sunday

We started off the day early with a tennis date. My current domestic partner (his family also went to India) joined us as well. This guy descended on the court as an underdog; in fact we decided to server him slow in the beginning, but he played real well and beat me in the best-of-3-games gig. After that, I played a regular set with my regular tennis partner, went down to 0-4 but beat him 7-5 in the end. Our bodies were aching by the time we were done.

Later in the morning, I decided to dump myself in the jacuzzi for a little while followed by a hot shower, and I emerged as a new man. With still so much time to kill, we decided to go for a movie. 'Rock on' was running at AMC 30; we decided to go for the 4PM show. We loaded up the suitcases with fresh supplies for the week and drove down to Schaumburg to my friends place. After unloading some stuff over there, we remembered that we almost forgot to take lunch, so busy we were. While on our way to lunch, we stopped by Office Depot to pick a laptop; we got a great deal on an acer. Laptop prices have dropped enormously. In fact, most of the electronic items are being sold like vegetables these days (but the junk they produce do not disintegrate as fast as vegis, sadly).

By the time, we got out of the shop, it was 3:15. We headed straight to the theater area and decided to check out the eating places in the new strip mall there. Subway, we skipped; Quiznos, we settled on, but then they were closed Sunday. Next to that was Jimmy Johns sandwich place. I had heard great things about this one, but never got a chance to try it. So in we went. It was a classic American style club & sub sandwiches place; even the interiors were still set the old way. It reminded me immediately of 'Grease'. Having gotten used to the spicy and oiled sanwiches that the modern sub shops now offer, we thought the sandwiches were really dry, and thought this was our first and last time for us over there.

By 3:40, we were out of there and heading to the theater across the road. On our way, we noticed men clad in whites playing cricket (must have been one of the league matches). There weren't too many people in the theater. This one has 30 theaters and is typically very busy, but this being Sunday evening, it wasn't. We noticed only just the Indians purchasing tickets for Rock On.

After getting in, I decided to go for a soft pretzel. The sandwich wasn't good enough for me, or may be all the workout is making me hungrier. If I continue like this, you guys back home will notice my physical growth immediately. It was just my bad luck, but the pretzel tasted equally bland as well. I ate only half of it.

The movie was not so bad - a reminder that a secure & traditional lifestyle might keep you breathing and paying bills, but the real living is when you follow your passions. The movie lacked depth, but I was still able to stir up my emotions esp because of the rocking music. I would recommend Jerry Maguire (my all time favorite) though if you really want to touch on this topic. All the characters were well suited and the performances good. I never thought much of Arjun Rampal before, but I thought he stole the show in this one, and Farhan looks dashing as well both in the rockstar and the businessman avatars. The lead guitar mesmerizes and gives you goosebumps. The concerts are well shot, esp the last one is dazzling and worth experiencing in the theater.

By the end of the day, we were pretty exhausted, but I was hungry again. We decided to go the Chipotle, the mexican fast food place. After coming back home, I chatted with Manisha for a little bit, and then dumped myself straight into the bed. Subconsciously, I thought the movie stirred up my creative side a little bit that eesulted in this entry this morning on Monday.

It's almost 9, now. I better get ready for work. Later.

Guys Please check this out and come up with some idea.

Brief Conceptual Note-
Development of Delhi – Mumbai Industrial Corridor (DMIC)DELHI-MUMBAI INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR (DMIC) CONCEPTUAL OUTLINE
BACKGROUD
Government of India has announced the establishing the Dedicated Freight Corridor between Delhi and Mumbai, covering an overall length of 1483km and passing thru the States of U.P, NCR of Delhi, Haryana, Rajasthan, Gujarat and Maharashtra, with end terminals at Dadri in the National Capital Region of Delhi and Jawaharlal Nehru Port near Mumbai. This Dedicated Frieght Corridor offers high-speed connectivity for High Axle Load Wagons (25 Tonne) of Double Stacked Container Trains supported by high power locomotives. The Delhi-Mumbai leg of the Golden Quadilateral National Highway also runs almost parallel to the Freight Corridor.

DELHI-MUMBAI INDUSTRIAL CORRIDOR
The proposed high-speed connectivity between Delhi and Mumbai offers immense opportunities for development of an Industrial corridor along the alignment of the connecting infrastructure. A band of 150 km (Influence region) has been chosen on both the sides of the Freight corridor to be developed as the Delhi-Mumbai Industrial Corridor. The vision for DMIC is to create strong economic base in this band with globally competitive environment and state-of-the-art infrastructure to activate local commerce, enhance foreign investments and attain sustainable development. In addition to the influence region, DMIC would also include development of requisite feeder rail/road connectivity to hinterland/markets and select ports along the western coast.
INTEGRATED CORRIDOR DEVELOPMENT APPROACH FOR DMIC High impact/ market driven nodes- integrated Investment Regions (IRs) and Industrial Areas (IAs) have been identified within the corridor to provide transparent and investment friendly facility regimes. These regions are proposed to be self-sustained industrial townships with world-class infrastructure, road and rail connectivity for freight movement to and from ports and logistics hubs, served by domestic/ international air connectivity, reliable power, quality social infrastructure, and provide a globally competitive environment conducive for setting up businesses. An Investment Region (IRs) would be a specifically delineated industrial region with a minimum area of over 200 square kilometers (20,000 hectares), while an Industrial Area (IAs) would be developed with a minimum area of over 100 square kilometers (10,000 hectares). 24 such nodes - 9 IRs and 15 IAs spanning across six states have been identified after wide consultations with the stakeholders i.e the State Governments and the concerned Central Ministries. It is proposedthat 6 IR and 6 IAs would be taken up for implementation in the 1st Phase during 2008-2012 and rest of the development would be phased out in the next 4 years. The nodes identified for Phase-1 are: Short listed Investment Regions:


List of Proposed Investment Regions and Industrial Areas in the DMIC Region
PHASE I
S.No State Proposed Location Category of Region
1 Uttar Pradesh Dadri-Noida-Ghaziabad Investment Region
2 Uttar Pradesh Meerut-Muzaffarnagar Industrial Area
3 Haryana Faridabad-Palwal Industrial Area
4 Haryana Manesar-Bawal Investment Region
5 Rajasthan Kushkhera-Bhiwadi-
Neemrana
Investment Region
6 Rajasthan Jaipur-Dausa Industrial Area
7 Gujarat Bharuch-Dahej Investment Region
8 Gujarat Vadodara-Ankleshwar Industrial Area
9 Maharashtra Dighi Industrial Area
10 Maharashtra Nahik-Sinnar Investment Region
11 Madhya Pradesh Neemuch-Nayagaon Industrial Area
12 Madhya Pradesh Pitampura-Dhar-Mhow Investment Region
PHASE II
S.No State Proposed Location Category of Region
1 Haryana Rewari- Hissar Industrial Area
2 Haryana Kundli-Sonepat Investment Region
3 Rajasthan Ajmer-Kishangarh Investment Region
4 Rajasthan Rajsamand-Bhilwara Industrial Area
5 Rajasthan Pali-Marwar Industrial Area
6 Gujarat Ahemdabad-Dholera Investment Region
7 Gujarat Surat-Navsari Industrial Area
8 Gujarat Valsad-Umbergaon Industrial Area
9 Maharashtra Dhule-Nardhana Investment Region
10 Maharashtra Pune-Khed Industrial Area
11 Madhya Pradesh Shahjapur-Dewas Industrial Area
12 Madhya Pradesh Ratlam-Nagda Investment Region

Check out Plan

Hi,

I want you to take a look at : Plan

Bourne supremacy-- Book Vs Film.

I would say..Ludlum's writing was tad better.
I bought this CD from Reliance Mart, its a dubbed version released in India and its certainly marked improvment of dubbing of yesteryears when some firang would look into your eyes and say"....aagah kiya heh tumeh.." making do for "... I warn you...".Now Reliance mart is bit of dissapointment in new retail chains coming across India, Spencers is the best of lot and of course Big Bazar is golden oldie.
Initial action happens in Goa ( In Movie version) and than Bourne goes beserk-- Matt demon is faboulous as Borune but did not fit in the Image I had developed over last 15 years of how Borune should be! but now when i go through the novels again I can fit him for sure.
I would say Bourne tri series is a thriller masterpiece churned out by Robert Ludlum and Movie version although almost deviating from original plot is still fitting tribute to Ludlum and Matt demon reminds of Amitabh bacchan in Zanzeer.

Pokka: the breaking up

People can fall out of love, I guess. Even though I continue to be committed to Pokka, some of my other colleagues (hiding identity on request) have decided to call it quits. The love affair with the Japanese culture continues, though. In fact, the feeling is that the indifference to Pokka is a natural progression towards our absortion into the eastern culture. Certain amount of at-home comfort is quite visible as we explore mitsuwa further.

Already, I have walked thru' all the aisles of the grocery area looking for fortune cookies. Within the bakery itself, we have discovered the cream cake, which is very similar to our own cream roll, only a little more sophicticated. It's a diamond shaped crispy shell with just the right amount of cream and berry extract inside. It was love at first sight as well. Then, we also have been exploring the food court on the other side of the mall. The first time, the stalls and food are totally baffling, but then for people like us, they have nicely taken pictures along with ingredients posted at the counter.

Special mention of Re Leaf Matcha Cafe is required. This was considered as one of the alternatives to Pokka. Matcha is Japanese powdered green tea. So this stall has various kinds of innovative drinks based on matcha, and then they also offer regular coffee drinks including latte & cappacino. The person on the counter was very patient with us. Showing off his perfect hair spikes, he explained to us in his deep voice & perfect english what matcha was. In the end, we ordered latte, which was quite expensive for a small glass and no match to Pokka, obviously.

So, the search continues.

Belonwala as seen thru Satellite

The place marked 'A' is Belonwala. We plan to trek in this area during my India trip in Oct.
(Courtesy: Google)

3 days to bachelorhood....

In 3 days, Manisha & kids will leave for India. A flurry of activities are happening in the Jain household. Suitcases are being packed and weighed. Shopping is being done. Kids' food in India is being considered. I leave on Oct 17 and that gives me 4 weeks of bachelorhood.

With small kids, the spare time can be limited, and with them gone, I will have plenty of time for myself. I have been planning several activities. One of them is going back to working out. Last time I worked out was a long time ago. I maintain a little gym in my basement but I still didn't have time to use that. This time, though, I plan to use the gym in our office building. It's hardly used, so I will have everything at my disposal. I hope to go there after work. After gym, I plan to go for swimming. It's been years since I have been trying to learn how to swim. Last time the family went to India, I made some progress, but I hope to finish the training this time.

It's a little weird to be living without family since I have gotten so used to them being around all the time. I am really going to miss the little ones. But then this gives me a little time to take care of some personal stuff, and hopefully, party a little bit. Also, this will increase my appreciation for the family. So looking forward to it....

Travels and travails in West UP.

West UP is misnomer actually, its not cowboy land of Meerut,Muzzfarnagar or Baghpat..but more of playground of Lord Krishna ..the Brijbhumi..the Radhey influence is all pervading .
It was travel done by yours truly(hereafter referred as DEFENDANT) and area incharge(hereafter referred as PLAINTIFF)..in between OPS incharge UP/ops incharge West UP/hub incharge/centre incharge makes appearance( All clubbed as 12th MAN) and we use Hollywood titles again.
PLAINTIFF and DEFENDENT agreed at the onset to Disagree on every topic under sun!!!!
Heat and dust
PLAINTIFF reminded DEFENDANT of being a softy infact whole of his kinship in Gurgaon were softy, PLAINTIFF being the son of soil was a fieldsman..'Field ka Aadami', PLAINTIFF ate , drank , breathed , dreamt soil ,the DEFENDANT wallowed in his misery affected with self pity..alternately visualising himself as spoilt rich brat, a blood sucking capitalist..and in his depression and anxiety he managed to wonder with so much soil in your system..how do you manage essentials of life.
Guns of Navarone
Etah is the original Wild west of India, mans life revolve around there Shotguns or Rifles, man can go wout food for two days but would not step out without the this ornament, Corn arrivals are still down but would increase within 7 -10 days time.All the socialist talk had made PlAINTIFF flushed with exhaustion and after catching the breath he instructed driver to put on the AC on full blast and stuffing the mouth with wads of Pan PLAINTIFF managed a smile of self satisfied , contended man.
How green was my valley
Farrukhabad is the biggest potato belt of india …………………. Who cares even if it is not still you manage to see potatoes everywhere but my purpose was to see the Corn which was still a absentee but arrival would start with Bang when whole central UP throws out Corn, so we dropped Farrukhabad like hot potato out of itinery after visiting Mohhmadabad.
It’s a mad..mad world
12th Man managed a room for PLAINTIFF in Etah which was upsurped by the 12th man after discussion with 12th man and than started making his evening report for the 12th man , the 12th man tried to reterive the room for PLAINTIFF but 12th man resisted it and 12th continued to stay put on the instructions of 12th man and managed to complete his report for the 12th man, now that's a bit confusing isn't ..well same happened and PLAINTIFF like a real 'Son of soil' spent the night on the soil….mind you not the 'night soil'.
All the president's man
Completing the journey through Mainpuri and Bewar, Defendant tried to emulate the 'Son of soil' and conducted impromtou interviews while on the way asking a bunch of farmers who was the president of India..few replied "..moko nahi pato hain…" but smartest of them managed a reply "…weh to Mulayam he honge…".Yes this real 'son of soil' manages the show in this area .
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Hats off to the team..working hard,running like horses (tied to a single load) in every direction manage to stay at same place.
Yours truly
Dinesh rawat

Parallel Universe !!

Sometime this morning (GMT time) when the big bang atom smasher was turned on, a microscopic black hole was created that sucked the entire universe into it, and we all bubbled up into a parallel universe. This marks the beginning of a new era. The transition was so seamless that very few people are even aware of the fact that they are now living in a relatively different world that may seem the same but it's not. Interestingly, the makers of 'Equals & Opposites' (game for children) captured this moment in fullest detail. You can clearly see the black hole through which the penguin passed and his surprise at how the water turned into ice all of a sudden. Evidently, the problem of global warming has not engulfed this universe, yet. With our knowledge of catastrophe caused by global warming, this gives us another chance to do things right and treat not just the four walls of our house as home but the entire planet and possibly the universe(s).

(P.S. This picture is being released for the first time ever.)

Restaurant Review: Chowpatty, Arlington Heights IL

I came across this place about 8 years ago and always thought I should write a review for it. With the blog, I finally got that opportunity. When you think of Indian restaurants in America, you think of a buffet. If you mention Indian food to non-Indian, he will immediately talk about samosa, tandoori chicken, lamb, and that bread (naan). Chowpatty doesn't offer any of these delicacies but follows its own offbeat menu. They dont even offer non vegetarian items and yet they have dedicated customers who just keep going back. Talking of menu, you better be a book worm because it has got 20 pages. They offer various kinds of dishes including Mexican, Middle Eastern, Thai, etc. But these are to be better had somewhere else. The family that runs this place are Gujaratis from Bombay (and hence the name). And they will mention this outright that they specialize in food from Bombay. There are 2 items that I would especially recommend - Ragda patties & Pav-bhaji. They are absolutely out of the world. One of the nice things about them is that they have several spice levels to choose from ranging from non-spicy to very spicy. Dont even think about very spicy. I have tried fair level of spice, and it just bit my tounge. I would also recommend salted lassi with jira to go along with it. End your meal with masala tea no matter what you eat.

A very important note - make sure you eat something before you go there. Since it's a family run restaurant, the service can be really slow, and the smell of the good food will make you even more hungry. On top of that the size of the dishes are relatively small but expensive nevertheless. If you go there for a full meal, you might easily end up spending a fortune. Last time I went there was just a few months ago with a few friends. They were all hungry, so I tried to stop them, but they didn't listen. They just kept muttering oohs and aahs during the entire lunch and poked fun at me as to why I didn't want to go there. In the end when the bill was delivered, there was a moment of silence followed by beads of sweat on the forehead (which could be from the spice or masala tea whose each sip they had savored). In the end the conclusion was that you could only go to Chowpatty on your wedding anniversary. That's Chowpatty for you - a must-visit restaurant.