The Blind Alley

(1)

It was getting darker by the minute. Was it the time or were the rain gods playing havoc with the city’s weather again? The alley was small, and there was hardly enough space for any passerby to walk, especially if there was someone else coming from the opposite direction. Traces of dirt and grime were visible on every inch of the yellowed walls. There was the odor of piss coming from some corner. And then there was the smell of food- garlic, onion fried in oil-giving out a pungent odor. With the wind blowing it stung her nostrils. Her stomach revolted. She felt sick and felt like she would puke. Droplets of sweat were now forming in her forehead.

She started walking fast. Her clothes were covered in sweat now. And the sweat was more from fear rather than the hot and the humid. There was hardly anyone to be seen on the streets now. These streets were known to be unsafe even on a good day. And of all the days, she had zeroed in on today to come here. But then she had no way of knowing the weather would suddenly change its tide.

The phone-call the day before had changed everything. And it served her right for not keeping to her own and always poking her nose into others problems. She had realized that her brother had been under certain pressure. But she had not realized things had turned so bad, till she had picked up the phone extension by mistake the day earlier.

(2)

The phone had been ringing for quite sometime, and since she knew her brother was near the phone she had not bothered picking it up. But then it had continued its shrill ring, so she had moved to the other room and done the needful. She should not have bothered, since by then her brother had already picked up the phone. She was about to keep it down when the voice on the other side, presumably of the loan-shark had come in blasting, threatening her brother to return the money by the end of the week or else “be ready to face the consequences”.

She steeled herself and went to her brother’s room. She knocked and waited. “Come in” she heard him say after a few seconds. She looked at his face. He had his mask on already and gave her a smile. “Are you okay kid?” he asked. She nodded her head. “Well, what is it? Did you manage to land into some trouble again? Come on spit up,” he said. She looked at him and asked, “Are you hiding something from me?” He did a double take but he had managed to recover within a few seconds. “No, what do you have in mind?” So he doesn’t want to say, she thought. She said, “It’s just that I think I might have caught you day-dreaming/thinking quite a number of times. I was worried there is something in your mind.” She smiled, “but since you say there is nothing, I am obviously wrong.” “Oh! Just a little more pressure than usual at work, kid. Nothing to worry about.” He smiled at her reassuringly. She took the cue, smiled at him and left the room.

(3)

She slept badly and had woken up with the sun itself. She tried reading, but she could hardly focus on the words. She then decided to go out for a quick jog. That would at-least steady her nerves. So, she changed into her jogging gear and started towards the park. She did a few rounds, and by the time she was done she could hear her own heartbeat, but her nerves had still not steadied. But by then she had already come to a decision. She had remembered the address that had come out for the other end of the phone yesterday. In fact she remembered the whole conversation going to and fro from both ends. It has been imprinted in her memory forever.

She walked back home and sat in the bed. The decision that she had so impulsively taken just a few moments ago, now in retrospect seemed really stupid. She went into the bathroom and took a shower. Usually she takes a long, lazy shower, but today was not usual. She went in and took a quick shower, and came out smelling like lavender. Lavender!! Lavender, always calms her down. Even that was unable to steel her nerves today. She dressed quickly and conservatively in a pair of jeans and a white shirt, dabbed some more lavender perfume in her pulse points and then tied her hair in a pony tail, applying just a hint of nude lip balm on her lips. Vain though, today was not a day to bathe in vanity.

She picked up her bag and sat down for breakfast with her brother as usual. He nibbled on a piece of the toasted bread. And he did seem to be under a lot of pressure today. For a voracious eater he was chewing on one bite of the bread for a long time. “Aren’t you going to eat, or are you bored with the same break-fast that I rustle up every-day?” she managed. “Well I am not that hungry, and anyway I am supposed to meet a client in the café in a while, so maybe I will order something substantial then,” he smiled. She felt a little guilty then, he had after all taken the loan for her education. But it was hardly her fault, a part of her said. She had asked him to go to authorized agencies.

When she had gotten admission into the prestigious university he was so sure she would be able to land a plush job with a fat pay package. He had not listened to her arguments then. But then recession had struck, and many big companies had crumbled like cookies. And the ones who had managed to stay afloat had undergone a lot of downsizing and pay-cuts for its employees. She was lucky she had a job at-least. Most of her friends were still sitting at home without a job.

She slung her bag on her shoulder and was about to leave for office as usual, when the phone rang again. Her brother ran towards the phone, and his expression said it all. She came to a decision then. She chucked her plan to go to office and took the opposite road. This time her mind was fully made up. And nothing was going to change her tracks.

(4)

And now here she was. The loan shark and the meeting with him was nothing like what she had expected. She had no idea what she had expected when she went in. The alley was dark and dingy, she had regretted coming into that part of the city as soon as she had entered its threshold. She must have been followed by all kinds of men right from the time she had set foot in the area. One guy had looked at her lecherously and had made a sign with this tongue, and then stuck his finger on his lips and had then pointed the same finger towards her. And another had managed to come in close to her, and then brought his face near her ears and then when he was satisfied she was scared enough, he looked deep into her eyes, laughed on her face, mouth smelling of stale cigarette and then left her with a “Be careful honey”. She did not know whether to laugh or to cry.  There was no other woman to be seen in the vicinity, and the one or two she had seen are what we refer to as street-walkers. She had a difficult time finding the direction to the loan-sharks office. It just made matters worse that she had made up her mind to not ask for directions from the leather clad- Harley driving druggies. When she finally found the small office in the dilapidated building in a corner of the street it was not what she had expected. Just as she was about to enter, she noticed a man with a sunglass coming out from the building. He was fumbling a little and looked a little out of place in there. Perhaps it was the fact that he did not have leather all over him, nor was he dressed in grunge like every other man on that street.

She took the stairs and walked up towards the loan-sharks office. The stairs creaked, there were cobwebs all around. The dust entered her lungs and she coughed. The walls had turned almost black and every piece of wood had traces of termites. Stench of stale alcohol and cigarette reeked from every corner. There were what looked like traces of spit and vomit on the walls. Her throat was perched and she was almost gasping for breath. ‘If there is hell on earth, this had to be it,’ she thought. Finally after what looked like ages she reached the top, and then the office.

(5)

She knocked meekly and then was asked to wait. The office had just two rooms, one infact, with a partition in between to make it into two rooms. She could hear muffled voices and then sounds of laughter coming from the other part of the room. After what looked like an eternity she was called in. She would have burst out laughing if she were any other place. She had imagined the loan shark to be a big framed man with rippling muscles, tattoos and perhaps a teeth of gold. But the man sitting opposite her was a small, frail looking bespectacled man with kind eyes. He must not be over five feet in height and he wore a black tee shirt. She could not see the rest, as a table covered the length below.

“Young lady, what brings you here?” She looked the other way for a moment not placing the voice with the same man. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. The man smiled at her and offered her some water. She took a sip, and then took a breath. She explained to the man about the phone call to her brother the day before. The man looked at her and then his eyes rested on her throat. He loved looking at the way it moved up and down every time she said something. And then it skimmed down to her chest, it rested at the opening of her shirt and then fixed at that point for the rest of the discussion. But it wasn’t on her flesh he was looking at, but rather the diamond solitaire that she had hung in there along with a small thread of gold. She ended with, “If you could give us some time we would return the amount with interest in full. What I am asking from you is just a little more time.” He looked into her eyes then and gave her a genuine smile. “Sure, how much time?” he added. “Till I get a better job than the one I have at present, which might take a few months at max,” she responded. He took the gum that he was chewing out from mouth and then stuck it underneath the table. He spat and then pointed to her throat.

“I will take that as a security. It is a big perfect diamond.” That was her only memory of her mothers and she had never taken it off since her sixteenth birthday when she had inherited it. But she took it off and handed it over to him. He smiled and brought his sweaty palms forward. He then smelled it before kissing it and putting it inside his filthy drawer. She got off then and ran out of the building. A stray tear found its way to her cheek.

(6)

But she atleast had managed to buy her brother some time. At least there was something to cheer about. She had been lucky then, but since the last few minutes she could feel someone following her.  “Damn” she said silently. Whatever had possessed her to come into this area known for drugs, mafias and contract killers all by herself. She tried increasing her pace and then she could hear the pace behind her increasing too.

The place was a maze and try as hard; she was unable to find the main road. She was stuck, and the more she went around, the more she felt like she was going in circles. She once looked back and saw him- lean, tall and muscular, she could not make out his face properly. But he was definitely that same man who she had chanced upon when entering the loan-sharks building. The loan shark and his loonies dress up like normal humans unlike most other gangs here she thought. “Definitely, a rapist” and as soon as the thought crossed her mind she cursed herself.

The alleys were getting smaller, and the stench of all things ugly getting stronger. Notorious looking men ogled at her from every corner. She heard someone whistle and then a tall, heavily muscular man with dread locks, black tooth and a holster slung around his waist came in and stood in front of her. He looked down at her running his eyes down the whole length of her, gave her a crooked smile, gestured towards a motor bike and said, “Care for a ride honey?” She turned away without a glance and then felt a hard slap and a pinch in her butts and then heard the sounds of laughter coming in from behind her. She could feel those men virtually taking each piece of her cloth off her in their minds. She flushed and then took another turn, and entered deeper into the alleys.

Empty, broken bottles of alcohol, cigarette butts and used condoms lined every inch of the alley. The place was strewn with half eaten food particles. She could feel something crawl near her feet and looked down to see a rat. The stink was unbearable; she held her breath. Suddenly something came with a force and hit her hard on her shoulder, and then she felt her shoulder getting wet. She touched her shoulder and found a rubbery substance stuck on her shirt. She jerked it off when she realized someone had thrown a condom filled with water at her. Her shoulder hurt, and tears had started forming in her eyes. She closed her mouth shut and willed herself not to cry. Her jaw had become numb by then. Cats and dogs were feeding themselves from the junk and she could feel her own stomach turning in revolt now.

The pace behind her kept on increasing. She prayed to the almighty and kept on with the pace. She had heard really scary stories of how loan sharks are known to snatch valuables from their creditors and then, they were at times beaten up. Since she was of the fairer sex, she her mind somehow came up with the idea that the man was now out to feast on her flesh. Sounds of laughter and hooting followed her like a shadow. And then suddenly she came out of the maze and found the main street. She breathed in relief and then looked back once again.

She was about to cross the road, when she heard him say, “Wait!” she looked back and saw the man. “Can you please help me cross the road?” he asked. “What?” she repeated. “Well, inside there for a moment I thought you were lost yourself. You were walking so fast and gave me a hard time trying to keep pace with you. All I had was the trail of your lavender perfume, to keep up with you.” She gave him a strange look and was about to leave, when he removed his sunglass. She gaped then.

Comedy of My errors !!

So, there I was all excited for my Euro trip. Afterall, this was the first time I was travelling to that part of the world. I was all bubbly and excited inside, but each time my mind wandered off or started planning too much about the upcoming trip, I would mentally slap myself and remind my wandering mind that many Visa applications gets rejected. And to top it all I just quit a cushy, decently well paying job with the added benefits of travel to start out on my own. So paperwork for the application process were kind of messy in my case. But, surprise!! surprise !! it went on very smooth and the Visa came in hardly at any time. Infact my Chinese Visa had taken much longer than this.

But, yeah it's me, so anything can happen between the Visa and travel dates. Since, the husband was already in Delhi and well, its going to be decently cool in Paris, so I need to get his Jacket along, and mine too, along with other things. Damn, do domestic carriers allow only 15 kgs weight ? Where am I going to fit in my stuff, and his of course? Come on, I am travelling for 18 days, and there was beach, vineyards and other cities planned, can you imagine the range of packingincluded. "What, train, why do you want to travel by train. Relax and take the flight, book extra luggage," he said. But I was adamant, "I have been travelling in Rajdhani since my college days, I love trains," I asserted. 

So yes, I did book my tickets. It was not easy getting a confirmed booking to Delhi less than a week before I was travelling. But then thankfully, I did know somebody who could help me confirm the booking through VIP quota. So, I booked my ticket online, and of course to do that I first had to create an id, but isn’t it better than standing in the queue at the station. I received an SMS mentioning the details of the same and I forwarded it to the uncle who was supposed to confirm my booking. He called me back immediately asking if I had booked my ticket online. When I responded in positive, he said, at times the system does not accept the online PNR for quotas, so he said I should go ahead and book the same from the window at the station. Hell, after struggling for 3 hours with the online thing now I had to go ahead and cancel the same.

I then asked Ma, if she can just get the ticket done through someone else. And of course the peon messed up, so finally I had to go by myself and get the ticket done. Now it is really interesting, because, uncle told me that in-case I do not get a reservation from Guwahati to Delhi, "just ask the person to reserve your ticket from an earlier station, while keeping the boarding at Guwahati". I wanted the ticket for 13^th June 2016. I filled up the reservation form, and just like uncle had warned me, the person at the reservation counter said, “we have reached the limit for waiting list on the date of your journey, I am sorry,” to which I replied “But the train starts from Dibrugarh, can you book it from there while keeping my boarding at Guwahati?” He replied in affirmative, but at the same time warned me that the train starts from Dibrugarh on the 12^th to which I responded that as long as it reaches Guwahati on 13^th I am good. He then said, “There are availabilities from Lumding, should I do it from there?” and I nodded. I forwarded the details to my uncle, and of course he made sure my ticket was confirmed.

On the 13^th morning I got up on the train, bag and baggage. The person sitting near me said, that the seat in which I am sitting was his and I responded saying that we should let the TT check where is the misunderstanding. He went out and checked the chart, and of course it had his name. But why do I care, my ticket is confirmed, I had the SMS with the new PNR, so I was sure it was a technical glitch. The train started and soon enough, the pantry guy came to ask if I would like to have veg or non-veg breakfast. I said I am not sure about my seat number, and asked him to confirm. He asked for my ticket, and when I showed him, he said “ Ma’am, but this ticket is for yesterday’s train.” I refused to believe him, of course there was some misunderstanding;  and then braved all 9 coaches before finally reaching the pantry car which also houses all the staff of the train. The TT looked at my ticket and listened to my part of the story. “Lumding, but madam, Lumding comes at 3’o clock in the morning. At 12:00 midnight the dates in the system changes.” No! No! No! this is not happening to me. “ So what can we do?” I asked. “You have to pay penalty.” Well, doesn’t sound scary. “ Okay, I have fifteen hundred with me.” “Oh, No ! Penalty amount is twice the maximum fare. So you have to pay Rs.6300.” I looked at him incredulous. I have already spent almost Rs.3000 on the train ticket. Now the jokers are telling me I have to pay an additional fare of Rs.6300. I played it cool, “But I don’t have any money.” “Do you have someone who will come to the next station with the money. You can stay in the train.” Quick!! Call the husband. “ Are you seriously nuts, you want to pay additional Rs. 6300 and still make the journey of more than 24 hours. Get down at Bongaingaon, and come home. Come by flight tomorrow. I am getting your tickets booked.” Oh GOD !! What do I do now. Okay, Panic !! No No don't panic-call my friend Shona from Bongaingaon, but she lives in Delhi. No, call her friend first. “Pritom, I did something stupid and I have to get down at Bongaingaon, can you please come to the railway station.” “Priya, I am just half an hour away from Guwahati, wait I will ask ma to send our driver.” Finally, some amount of luck. I won’t be running around the station with luggage like a headless chicken. Shona sent their driver to help me out at the station. He helped me with the luggage and also booked a ticket for me in a local train. So after waking up at 5 in the morning and rushing to the station, to start my Euro trip, I was coming back to Guwahati in Gorakhpur Express. Apparently, the drama doesn’t end there because I got up in the sleeper section, but my ticket was for the unreserved class. “Hide the ticket madam, you are lucky it is me, anyone else would demand money” said the conductor who came in to check tickets.

It had taken me just about two hours to reach Bongaingaon by Rajdhani. Since, I would have gotten food at the train, I had not bothered eating anything either. By the time I was back home in the evening around 5 PM I was not just hungry but I was tired and felt stupid for atleast not checking the ticket once properly. I had been seeing the date as 12^th, but I was so sure it was because the train starts from Dibrugarh the previous day.

Fortunately, after that I reached Delhi, without incidents. And yes I did make silly mistakes while in Delhi but it wasn’t anything compared to what I did after reaching Spain. Oh yes !! I made it to Spain. And now we were onto the next leg of journey from Barcelona to Paris via flight. The guy at the guest house said that airport is just half an hour away from where we were staying. My husband kept on telling me that we have to leave early and I was like “we can sleep some extra winks, what will we do so early in the airport?” We took the metro from our place, and got down at the line that connects to the airport. As soon as we were on the metro we realised we will miss the flight. The airport line itself takes more than half an hour, and we had not even bothered to do a web check-in. Nor did we bother checking the distance from the guest house to the airport. As luck would have it, we missed the flight, but fortunately we were booked into the flight that same evening. Trust me there is nothing comical about missing an international flight, and spending extra money on tickets. But yeah, we took it as something that comes with travel and decided not to let it dampen our spirits.

Paris, was a delight with beautiful museums, buzzing life and to experience the Euro live from the stadium was an experience that I would cherish forever. And yeah did I also get to visit Champagne and taste some of the finest Champagnes  and tour the caves and vineyards. The experience was a dream. From Paris the next stop was Bordeaux. “I have already done Champagne, how different will be the wine making process? You go ahead and visit the Chateaus, I will roam the city by my own.” So, yeah I was on my own, to travel and photograph on my own. During my research, I found that Bordeaux was littered with vineyards on all sides, but the best tour was to St. Emilion because the place itself is beautiful, and there were some underground churches dating back to 11^th century. This was the only guided tour I decided I would take, firstly because I wanted to know in details the process of wine-making, I wanted a bit of history on the underground churches, and finally because I was by myself. I decided it will be a good way to meet some other people. I did meet a nice girl from an island near Australia. She was also travelling alone and we hit it of at the first smile. We got talking, and we kept at it all through the tour at the underground.

After the tour we were given a bit of free time, while asking us to assemble at the car park at around 4 PM. The underground was fascinating, and me and Corrine went from there to the viewpoint, and from there to a lone tall tower. By the time, we reached the car park we realised the bus had left us and moved to the Chateaus. I almost could feel my heart breaking. Not only did I spend 38 euro for this tour but I was in Bordeaux and  had missed the tour of the vineyard. How could I not get a chance to sample some of the best wines, and that too after paying for the same? And the scariest part was, the bus will not come back to take us, how do we go back to Bordeaux. We managed to find some other bus, and I had fortunately taken a picture of our bus in my mobile. The other bus called the driver of our bus he picked us up after the tour of the Chateau was done. But it means we have definitely missed the tour.

When the bus came, we were both sad. Corrine was also leaving for Paris the next day. As the bus approached Bordeaux, the guide announced that they are sorry that they missed us. She mentioned that she had made a mistake in counting the number of passengers. I had decided that I will book another tour for myself the next day. Once I reached the Tourism office and they heard our story, they agreed to give me a complimentary tour to Medoc the next day. But Corrine was leaving the next day, and I was kind of sad that she would miss out on tasting some really good wines. We left the office and were walking towards the market when we heard someone shout behind us, almost like calling out to us. We turned back and saw the man from the tourism office waving to us. We stopped, he came towards us and gave us both a coupon saying, “So sorry that you missed the tour today, we would like you to taste some souvenir wines. This is a complimentary coupon for both of you to taste two wines.”  What ? We looked at each other and then started jumping like mad people. I got not just a complimentary tour to the Chateaus the next day but I also got to sample some nice wines at one of the best bar in Bordeaux the same day. I guess that’s why they say “every cloud has a silver lining.” 

A little more than 24 hours in Kohima

I am from Assam, basically grew up and lived all through my childhood in this part of the country. It was much later during my higher studies that I have lived in Delhi and Bangalore. But the one thing that always pinches me is that in-spite of being from this part of the country I have hardly traveled or seen much of the virgin beauties that North Eastern part of India boasts of. So during December 2014 when I got an opportunity to travel to Kohima, capital of Nagaland I jumped at the opportunity. The high-point was the Hornbill Festival, a melange of food, culture and art of the various local tribes in Nagaland. It is really sad that we had taken just a day with us to soak in the festival. This is something that one should do with a little time and with a mood for leisure and relaxation. But I guess, like they say, "something is better than nothing". 

We started early morning on a cold December day, and reached Dimapur by around afternoon. But for the people who knows about the festival it is like a cult. The journey from Dimapur to Kohima that should not have otherwise taken more than two hours was completed in almost six hours. The roads were jam packed, hotels were fully booked and people were camped all along. One really has to see it to believe it. People throng from foreign lands to experience the food, art and culture. For us, we reached after seven at night. We were staying at one of the army guest houses and we were lucky to get accommodation. But by the time we reached, the festival was over that day and we decided just to take a little walk. Moreover the day long journey and the traffic-jam had tired us. We had dinner and then we mostly stayed within the campus. 

The next day we reached the festival venue again braving throng of jams and traffic. But as soon as one enters the festival one can see a melee of color. Different tribes showcasing their dresses, jewelries and various dance forms. Well, it doesn't stop there and the tribes give you a sneak peek into their homes too. There are sample huts with a functioning kitchen area and furniture thrown in to give an idea about how they live. You can hear screams, war cries and drumbeats. Various areas are created for each tribes separately. Along with this is the crisp, unpolluted December air and the smell of food wafting in the air. All of these are sights to see and soak up. I could not take too many photographs of the festival itself. But I will still share a few. Within the festival there are various competitions like "pork eating competition" that one can participate in. There are art competitions, singing and dance competitions too. Basically it is one place where one wont generally get bored and there is something for everybody here.

Tribal Jewellery at Hornbill Festival

                                                         
                                                               

                                     
                                                            Headgear of a Tribal gentleman

                                         Chicken in perilla(wild sesame) sauce at Hornbill Festival

                         
                                                      Blowing on coal to slow cook the meat

   
                                                       And some more food for all meat lovers..

We were driving back by afternoon the next day. We were still high with everything we have 

seen and experienced in the festival. We wanted to go back to the festival again, but since we were travelling back, it did not make much sense. We would have just wasted our time at the traffic jam and would not have managed to really enjoy much of the festival anyway; which was in a way a good thing. Because then we decided to check out the local market. A walk in the local bazaar of Kohima was unlike any I had experienced before. It was fun, colorful and full of quirky stuff that one would not find in most markets. From roasted dragonflies to frogs, the famous bhoot jolokia and the carefully packaged bamboo shoot, the absolutely stunning and colorful veggies- the market was a surprise in every corner. The cheerful ladies selling their daily wares, the cute little boys gleefully haggling with their customers “1 ka Rs 20, 3 khareedo Rs.50” , aah what fun!! Definitely a food lovers paradise and a place that will appeal and widen ones gastronomic experimentation.

 Silkworms

           And snails 

                                                           

                   Frogs too !!

 Fresh Vegetables

Rosated Dragonflies

 So am I posing ??

Since I am talking about the local market it would be sacrilege to talk only about the food, and not talk about the local colorful weaves. I did buy a local handwoven wrap-around skirt. And the husband indulged himself by buying himself a hand crafted crossbow. 

It was a short trip, opened my eyes to the various delights that this state has to offer. From quirky colorful local jewelries to unorthodox food- this is a must visit place for any adventurous traveler. 

General Musings and how the story of The Encounter began

So it was just another day and I was thinking I should get back to writing again. Wham !! Like everyday I open the Times of India website for my daily dose of newspaper read and I came across a link saying "Get Published" or something similar. It intrigued me and I clicked on it. There was an announcement for some kind of short story writing competition where a celebrity author of Indian origin will set the rules and write the preface or the starting paragraph of the story and we have to complete it within the next 1500-2500 words. Interesting really, but not so much when the rule is that it has to be set in 17th century Paithan (now in modern day Maharashtra) and the protagonist is a girl called Illa who is kind of a rebel for her times. Firstly, I do not know too much of history and secondly, that was the first day I came across the name Paithan. For the longest time I hit a blank wall. I would write two words or a sentence, just to keep my fingers in the keyboard with the thought that if I do keep writing, I will be able to go on. But luck wasn't really on my side. 30th July 2015 is the last day of submission and I am not yet ready with the story when I am sitting on the 28th. I closed my eyes for sometime and thought a bit about my maternal Grandmother who was a great storyteller herself. Inspiration struck a bit and some ideas started revolving in my mind. The basic storyline is Illa's as mentioned by Amish, but the conversations and the stories that I spin here is a spin-off from various tales that my granny told me as a kid. And oh, she did belong to an upper caste Brahmin family herself but married my Grandfather who was not a Brahmin. I am talking about defying traditions longgg back. So read the story and let me know how it is. The first paragraph is by Amish (highlighted) and mine continues.

The Encounter

(1)

Close to the city of Paithan, in a small village called Sauviragram, which lay along the banks of the great river Godavari, lived a woman named Ilaa. Being cotton farmers, her family was well to do, but not among the richest in their area. It was the harvest season, and cotton had to be picked from the plants. The wholesalers and traders from Paithan would be arriving in just a few weeks, carrying gold and goods for barter. They would exchange what they carried for the cotton that the farmers grew. The bales of cotton had to be ready in time! Work was at its peak!

But Ilaa was not to be found in the fields. She wasn't working. Instead, she was sitting by the banks of the great river Godavari.

'I am sick of this!' she grunted loudly.

She looked on towards the village and felt sick and revolted. There was a sense of merriment, after-all the great Shivaji will be going forward with his journey through here. She had heard so many songs by travelling bards describing his great escapes from the Mughal prison. She was impressed yet frustrated. Here, people were talking about his escape from the Mughals disguised in a basket of sweets but no one seemed to remember any more about the role a woman plays in cultivating a man’s mind and his thoughts. Having grown up in a household where treatment to women vacillated between respect and sheer bewilderment she was always caught between two minds.

Her maternal grandmother belonged to a Brahmin family, and her great-grandfather had an ashram dedicated to education. As such her grandmother grew up with a healthy dose of stories from the Vedas,The Mahabrahata and The Ramayana. Grandmother was a woman of substance, having fallen in love and then eloped with her grandfather to start her family. For the longest time, the family was ostracized from the village and the community. After all she had brought shame to her own father and her caste by marrying into a lower caste, the brunt of which was faced by both herself and her husband. But Illa was glad she had her grandmother’s wit and her stubborn streak. She is a rebel but like grandmother she will stand up for everything she believes in.  How dare her father arrange her marriage to a boy she had never met. Why is it all right for a girl to never talk to a stranger, and always remain in pardah but perfectly all right to marry one?

The hot summer sun was glaring in full force and beads of sweat were forming in her back. As the sun grew stronger it formed a pool of sweat and trickled down to her waist. The cotton harvest season was dry and her throat was parched.  The Godavari was continuing its calm flow, and the little ripples created by its waves looked like diamonds twinkling in the summer sun. She closed her eyes. “How can nature carry its course when human nature has changed so much?” She sucked in a deep breath, even more flustered now. For God’s sake it might as well be Stone Age and not seventeenth century, she thought. She picked up a stone and threw it into the water, more to create a momentary distress to the calm flow of water than for the fun of watching water disperse in different direction. It did nothing to calm her. 

She heard laughter behind her and turned towards the source; a well-dressed man walked towards her with grace, the bhikbali in his ear marking him as a Brahmin. She will not cover her face; because a strange man has invaded what she thought was her private sanctuary. “So, what ails you? You look like you are ready to fight an army.” She snorted, “As far as I can see, it is none of your business.”

“Aah but you intrigue me.” He said, and looked down at her hands and noticed her twirling the silver ring she was wearing in the middle finger of her right hand, the silver clearly marking her as belonging to the Vaisya caste. The basket of cotton lying beside her further enunciated the fact marking her trade.

She smiled. She can handle conversations. “Well, I am just wondering how come people have changed so much from ancient times. It is like we are moving backwards rather than forward in all our thoughts and actions.” she commented. That part got him really interested. “What exactly are you talking about?” he quipped. “Well”, she replied, “have you ever wondered why every Hindu deity has a female compatriot equally revered?”

“Why?” he asked, and she puffed, “Because it takes both the male and the female to complete the assignations of nature. Only through the union of both man and woman can a new life be borne. But today all we see is the role of a woman as that of being the progenitor of life and carrying on household duties. Why, is a woman compelled to follow her husband in every sphere of life? Why is she complete only if she follows her wifely duties and takes care of her household? She is always a daughter, wife, sister or mother. Why isn’t she S-H-E?”

“And your point here, being what exactly?” he asked.

“Well my point is why is it that when Brahma created the universe, he created a woman to complement the man. But today when the woman is in her menstrual cycle, the same woman is barred from offering prayers in the temple and considered untouchable?” She noticed the man give a slight squirm and move back involuntarily but did not acknowledge his discomfort. She continued, “Have you ever wondered why when Brahma was the creator of everything, we do not have any temple dedicated to Him? Why are there no rites and rituals where he is worshipped, whereas we have so many temples for Shiva and Vishnu? It is because, he suffered the wrath of his wife Goddess Saraswati for performing some rites in her absence. Being her husband it was His duty to wait for her and give her the respect she deserved.” She was talking animatedly now. “And yes, do you know how far a woman has to travel to fill water so that the family can have food on time? Do you know how far she has to carry her clothes to be washed? And do you understand clothes weigh more than twice its weight after it is washed, so she has to carry all of it back home to dry it. Women were exempted from those duties in the Vedic times during those days. But that does not mean she can’t pray and that she has to be treated like an untouchable.”

He knew he was suffering her wrath for no fault of his, and could not really comprehend what he did to bring this up, but what she was saying made sense somehow. He stared back at her and she continued, “I will tell you the story Of King Ila, who happens to be my namesake, and who is credited with laying the foundation of the great Paithan, previously known as Pratisthana. It is said that once while on a hunting trip he had accidently strayed into a forest called Shravana. That is the place where Lord Shiva consorts with Goddess Parvati and as such was a private area. No men were allowed inside the forest and it is said that once a group of sages interrupted the Gods when they were making love. Furious at the interruption and violation of private space the Goddess cursed that any man entering the forest would turn into a female. King Ila ventured into the forest and he turned into a woman and his stallion turned into a mare. The king then prayed to the Lord to reduce the potency of the curse, wherein Shiva refused, but Parvati took pity on him and agreed to make him lead alternating lives as both a man and a woman for a month each all through his life. He would forget his life as a man when he turned into a woman and vice-versa. Do you see what the Goddess did?” she asked with passion.

“Yes,” replied the man, “she turned a fully functional man who was supposedly a good king into a man for half the time, and a woman for the rest letting him vacillate between two different kind of emotions and feelings, making him see things from a woman’s point of view, but at the same time making sure that he won’t remember the thoughts of the woman, once he turned into a man. I think the goddess knew that if he remembered his actions and feelings as a woman he would not be able to function and follow his duties properly. Like you said both man and woman has specific roles to play, and those roles have been defined and developed over the course of time to give each a place. It is the role of a man to provide for his family, and it is a woman’s role to make sure that the house is in order. Both are doing their duty properly.”

Not one to take things lying low she argued, “No, that is not the reason. I think the goddess thought much further ahead. She calculated the need of the hour and wanted to establish a line of new offspring who will eventually form the Chandravanshis. The Suryavanshis were already ruling the world and the goddess realized that this was creating a lot of rift within the world. There was chaos, wars and one-upmanship. There had to be a balance in the natural order of things. And for this balance to happen there has to be another race that can stand up to the formidable Suryavanshis. The goddess had already calculated in her mind that through the union of King Ila and the planet Budha a new race will be established.” She stopped and looked at the man not really sure whether he understood anything of what she was saying. After all, she had been lucky to have grown up listening to her grandmothers’ tales but not everybody, unless he is a scholar would really understand what she is really talking about. 

The man seemed to smile. He was after all a scholar in the ancient Vedas but it is not every day that he meets his match in knowledge, and especially never one from the opposite sex. He gave her a long piercing look. He was especially interested in the study of Chandravanshis, and as such the story of Ila and Budha’s union is one that he has read many times. In various scripts and in various Puranas the legend has been told and retold with different connotations, but the basic premise was always the same- that Shiva and Parvati accessed Shravana for private time and intruders were cursed to turn into females. So was King Ila. But today this girl has added another dimension to his studies by informing him that the Goddess had planned on starting the Chandravanshi dynasty with King Ila and Budha’s union. While the reason for the same may, or may not be true but it sure warranted further research. He looked back at her face, her almond eyes hiding none of the rebellious thoughts. Though this time he looked at her with respect.  He was travelling through this part of the village with his family members, who were camped further ahead. He had come to the bank of Godavari to get some water for them.

It was then that she noticed the copper pot in his hands. “You are travelling alone?” she asked. “Oh! No” he shook his head responding in negative, “My family is here, we are travelling to Sauviragram for personal work.” She looked at the pot in his hand and nodded. “I have held you up for much longer than necessary already” she said. “That is alright. The discussion was much delightful.” She smiled then. It is not always that a stranger compliments her motor-mouth. He turned to the bank and she moved towards the side to let him pass. When he looked back, he saw her walking away carelessly swaying her slim hips in a seductive motion. He filled his pot but his thoughts kept on veering back to the conversation he had had with her. He had not even asked her name, but she had said something to the effect of Ila being her namesake. He shook his head. He will have to convince his parents to break the alliance with the family he was promised to marry. After encountering a woman who provoked his thoughts this way and who made him think and reason, he will not be happy with a woman who did not titillate his brain.

(2)

The girl’s parents opened their home to the boy’s family. While the girl’s side looked happy, his family members were in discomfort. “No” screamed his mother when he first told them of his decision. His mother had cried, his father had threatened to dis-inherit him. He realized then how fatal and deep-rooted traditions and beliefs were for the males, and shuddered thinking what the girl must be going through.

The girl’s father excitedly turned towards the door, cleared his throat and said in a loud voice,“Purva, get the sherbet for the guests.”

The boy looked up to see a veil covered face handing him a glass of sherbet. But it was the gold ring in her middle finger that he noticed, clearly marking her as belonging to upper caste. He closed his eyes.

(3)

Illa came out holding a glass of sherbet, the veil merely covering her head and not her entire face. The boy’s mother was perplexed and the father uncomfortable. The boy fidgeted in his seat. She cleared her throat, smiled and added, “I cannot promise to be the best wife, or the best daughter. I have my own thoughts and a mind of my own. I know how to manage a household, but I do know things beyond these too. And if you can accept me knowing and respecting my individuality, I will try my best to keep all of you happy and be the best I can ever be. I will do that not for me but for our future generations, our children because they deserve better than what we have.”

The Brahmin boy stood in the threshold knowing he is late. It wasn’t difficult finding out who the outspoken girl he met on the bank of Godavari was. Will Illa of present day also lead a cursed life like her namesake King Ila who had to alternately lead life as a man and a woman, or will she emerge victorious, he mused? 

Where Magic Lives ...

Tirthan valley- A weekend at a mystical place ensconced within Himachal,the "khol khol" sound of the river flowing from behind the cottage where we put up was like a melody playing in the background, mists came and went like in an enchanted dream, and air so fresh you start feeling energized already, stray horses peep out to look at strangers and wild flowers springs out from every corner, food so fresh I can still feel the taste in my mouth. A place which really inspires !!

But reaching this place from Delhi, was not really an easy drive through winding highways and scenic hills in the distance offering photo-op at every nook. In fact it was just the opposite taking us almost 20 hours to finally reach the guesthouse. The long weekend (independence day weekend on 15th August 2014) and the rains can definitely be blamed for the traffic jams we encountered, it was definitely tiring. But how cool is it to wake up from a comforting sleep and open the door of your cottage and take in a sight like the picture below. Hills playing hide and seek with fogs, a happy wind trying to blow away a bit of the fog - nature at play. A stream flowing right ahead, and the sound along with those of birds and insects blend together like in a melody. It was love at first sight, literally ! (We reached after 12 at night and since there were power cuts, I didn't actually see anything the day before).

This is what we woke up to

Tirthan Valley, gets its name from Tirthan River- flowing through the valley- originates from the Himalayas. It is one of the virgin locations in Himachal, still untouched and non-commercialized. So unlike other locations, the air here is fresh, food organic and at times roads are non-traversable, or atleast difficult to explore. For a tourist who is always in a hurry or likes to be on the go, this is definitely not the destination to look forward to. This is an off-beat location for nature lovers who love to go on treks. During season time one can do a bit of angling and trout fishing, but for most part this is a place where one generally has no particular agenda in mind except relaxing. A place where you can just sit down with your novel or music and see how nature changes every few minutes. 

The first day was a super lazy day, the way vacations are supposed to be- you don't rush, you don't plan, but just go with the flow. We woke up late, we had a late breakfast at the super awesome cafe run by the owner of the Cottage we were put up at. The cafe is attached to the guest-house and not the cottage, but one can order in. I preferred the 1 km hike downhill. I have never see anyone as attached to nature as our owner. He has a cow who apparently gives 25 liters of milk everyday, and depending on the number of people the guesthouse is accommodating on a daily basis, the rest of the milk is made into cheese and ghee, which is then used to prepare food served in the cafe. He prefers to grow his own organic vegetables (which unfortunately due to the rains this year was destroyed by snails and slugs). He is also an heirloom seed conservator and grows everything from millet's to rice. Even the jam we had with the pancakes was prepared in their kitchen; and of course the fruits are home-grown. Tempting, isn't it ?

A view of the cafe (from where we sat we could see the Jibhi river and hear the sounds too)

During the latter part of the day, we did a small trek towards a waterfall near our cottage. The trail was short and it was a beautiful walk, with many pretty, wooden bridges scattered around the path towards the waterfall. The waterfall was beautiful. The water was fresh, and white - so clean. 

Meditation, anyone?

I have no patience writing, so I will cut this very short from here, and leave you to have a look at the pictures. 

This beauty peeped out to pose for me while we were trekking from Jhalori Pass towards the lake- day 2

Beauty that is the beast

On the second day (third actually if you count the first night) we decided on a day long trek (meaning around 6 hours of activity). It is a 5 km trek (one way) through a beautiful trek, which is not very strenuous. We took a little more than an hour and a half to reach the lake and were greeted by this (pictures on top) and a few more horses grazing in the meadow. We saw a few rabbits running around too, but they were too quick for my camera. We reached Jhalori Pass from Jibhi by our car, but the road was at times very steep. Along the trek we were greeted by birds, horses, rabbits and mists. It made me feel like I was walking through the jungles shown and described in books like "Lord of the Rings". Mists would gather suddenly and clear off as quickly giving the feel of a wizard chanting his abracadabra close by.

Isn't this magical or what?

We came across many wild flowers and beautiful grasses too, all through the trek. Yellow, pink and purple flowers covered the meadows that we crossed on the way to the lake.

When mentioning this place I must definitely mention the place where we put up. We rented a cottage at Rana Swiss Cottage. The website link for the same is http://www.kshatra.com/ . The cottage was beautiful and had a small veranda overlooking the hills. While during the day one can look at the hills and be amazed by its sheer beauty and size, during the night one won't be able to take their eyes off the starry sky. I haven't seen so many stars in last few years together, than I have seen in the Jibhi Sky. The Jibhi river just passes ahead from our cottage, and one can hear the sound of the river flow at all times. The  cottages are constructed using eco friendly material, and all care have been taken to ensure the comfort of guests.

A view of the cottage. Could not get a frontal view, but I am sure you get the drift. There are many trees- apple, cherry and plum surrounding the cottage area. Also a little trail from below the cottage takes you to a shaded area that Mr. Rana has designed so that guests can practice yoga,meditation or martial arts according to their own choosing. 

This was definitely four awesome days of sheer pleasure and connection with nature. Traffic jams and landslides couldn't dampen either my spirit neither the beauty of this place.