Hell's Angels part 1 - Defy Convention

What does it take for a man to challenge or what compels him to challenge what is already established? - Defiance. This is a strong urge that I experience when what I perceive about myself and what my peers perceive me as has a disconnect. Either the issue is nipped at the bud or explodes into something grand or sinister. For me its always been the later. The trip to Coorg on a bike with no idea of the roads or any prior experience on the highway can be regarded at best as inconceivable - Precisely the point I do not agree with and hence I set out to defy and try and make a statement that I am Dangerous. The process made me realize however that my intent for the trip is a childish assertion making me understand that what people think about me is inconsequential, what matters is my life - the urge to understand and respond to Mother Nature with complete honesty and humility.

The day is 25th of March and the time is 4:30 AM. Myself, Pramod and his Room-mate Sajid set out on the Bangalore Mysore Highway. The idea behind the trip was actually conceived by Biju, the coolest and the wisest 28 Year old on this planet with vast trekking experience. Originally about 4 Bikes and 8 people were to be part of the expedition, with the departure of Biju away from the trip's scheme of things the interest and the enthusiasm dwindled, leaving me and my good friend Pramod to sustain the madness. I have limited experience but not on the scale that this trip demanded. There was only one apprehension I had about the trip- Will my bike sustain the abuse? Actually I would have preferred the Pulsar but as it seemed even my bike wanted to make a statement, and it did. Both Pramod and I believed that we can pull it off, and how?

My disdain for luggage almost had me in a regret when driving through the Blr-Mys Highway early in the morning. I was wondering whether to take a jacket along with me, but then I felt that its summer, so junked the jacket and set out with a thin cotton T-Shirt, that had the caption- "Defy Convention". Defy I did all odds to come down with a very bad case of pneumonia. We were travelling at 70 Kmph against the cold wind and I was frozen stiff. I almost felt like being welded to the bike. The shudder my body felt was nothing like I ever felt before. It was biting cold because of the speed and my bad judgement with the jacket. But it was kinda fun. We blitz through the highway and rip our engines further. We cross Ramanagram and Channapatna in no time. Its now sunrise and God seemed to have some pity on me. The temperature rise and I felt more and more comfortable to rip my stead. We reach a small tea-stall on the highway close to Mandya and take a break.

Its 6:30 in the morning and we had significant distance to cover. We had to cross Mysore as fast as possible and then head to the Tibetan Buddhist Monastry at Bylakuppe as early. We needed to have as much day light when we check out all the attractions that Coorg had to offer. Mysore was now about 60 Km away and Bylakuppe about 180 Km. The morning sunshine and with enhanced Caffeine content in our Blood we decide that we will not stop until we reach Bylakuppe.

We speed up to 90 Kmph taking advantage of the light and superb road and shoot through like a bullet. I had never tested the endurance of my bike at these speeds and it was flawless. Before the trip I had done a full servicing at the Castrol Bike Zone at Jayanagar, kudos to those guys my bike is back to the time when I first fell in love with it and with some one on it. Lot a different thoughts race through my mind. I remember secretly making a trip to Mysore to meet my girl on a train, now I am heading to Mysore on a Bike, I never got the girl then, but times change, now I fall in love every second- Oh, Life is Beautiful. I was getting back to the time when I was a boy, I still call myself a boy but truth is that its not the same. World is different when I was a kid, it was so mysterious. I used to faint with exhaustion when thoughts about the world around me used to consume me. With more sturdier neurons today I can grasp more. But I feel now the same joy as I felt then when understanding a new truth with sustained mental work - The wind in my face, the asphalt shooting past underneath I am close to danger, and danger is exhilarating.

We cross Mandya in a jiffy and cross Mysore at 7:30 thanks to the little guy who wanted to hitch a ride with us. He sat behind me helping us give directions to bypass the high road leading us to the road heading to Madikeri through meandering smaller roads through the city. The road after that had a different story to tell. It was bumpy. Through out the trip we had an unstated understanding, one guy sets the pace and the other follows and when the leader tires setting up the pace the other guy takes over setting the pace and the process continues. This ensured that we had sustained our speed well enough to race past the green paddy fields and vast dry landscape beside the road leading up to our destination and never slacked. This was one reason how we took the road from Mysore to Madikeri (in Coorg) with a vengence though our shock absorbers had a pretty tough task sustaining the bumps at our maddening pace.

We stop for breakfast on the Highway at Hunsur, we were now 40 Km from the Monastry and the time is 10:30. The Dosas were simply divine, maybe its the tire of the journey or the hunger inside us but we were not that keen to understand our love for the South Indian Pan Cakes.

And of course, the Tea, oh, divine. We proceed further on and my ignorance about Coorg takes effect. My impression about Coorg was that the vegetation is very much rain forest like but at Bylakuppe I found the entire surrounding very dry and parched. There actually is no contradiction as I later realised, Bylakuppe is not part of Coorg really, Coorg is further away- A fact I would realise with a lot of emotion later. Now with Eucalyptus trees on either side we head to the Monastry where we will turn our selves into little school boys excited enough to make our Mothers cry.

Pramod Tanvar, my colleague (God in DSP and VLSI Design) and team mate in this expedition, married recently and will be leaving Bangalore and our company soon. This guy has a smile on his face that would warm anyone's heart. This guy has amazing talent in Dramatics and is a walking encyclopedia on Hindi film music and Urdu Poetry. A die hard romantic from Rajasthan, however, is now longing the company of his better half who is right now in Faridabad and has to be content with long and over shooting phone bills. The Mr. Cool and also married - A gem of an exception. I felt proud to have his company and admire his attitude towards life. Thanks to his company, I would not have had this much fun if Pramod had not come down from heaven and joined on this trip to Coorg and Back. His friend and Room mate Sajid Qureshi, I dont know much about him, but through out the trip he had an amazing attitude- cool dude. Guys, thanks, I had a helluva Time - Oh Pajji, Tussi Great Ho!!!!!.

We reach Bylakuppe's Namdroling Monastry (or the Golden Temple) and we reach a different country - The Little Tibet, home away from home for the Tibetans driven out by the Godless Communists. The peace loving Tibetans, a striking feature in them is there zest for life and simplicity. Every Monk will sooner or later would acquire the the latest and greatest in terms of gadgets and gizmoz or Bikes or Cars. But still would keep his head on the right shoulders. Nobody would stop you from entering the monastry. You are welcome, no matter who you are. The Monastry is beautiful, but still you could take your camera and start clicking and no overzealous monk or priest to stop you, you are welcome. The air about the monastry is as if I am at my school. The scholastic air with little lamas running around is very much akin to the primary standards of a school. With the bigger lamas on their bikes and the little lamas with their walkmans with the Tibetan lady crooning. The tire after the long bike ride is suddenly a forgotten dream as we enter the hallowed compound of the Namdroling monastry with the view of the prayer halls ahead of us. The colour of the view sprouted our school boyish eagerness to check out the place. There so much fun under the sun with greenery and the youth of the place. There was a certain innocense to the place that seem to say- "Oh, traveller, I hope you are comfortable here, there are beautiful paintings (murals) on the walls. These painting will sooth you and you will feel fresh. Make this place your home and all apologies if you are not happy". At this my head was giddy with confusion- "Oh take a picture of that, oh also that painting!!!! Oh its so beautiful !!!! ....Oh whats there ? Oh splendid, where is my camera? Oh its right here ? Click Click Click". We were just hanging around at the garden and little did we know that soon our intellectual transformations into little 6 years old will be complete.

We enter the main prayer hall and my ego escapes from my body and hides in the garden outside. The majestic personalities of the trinity right in front of you brings you to your knees with respect. There is no fear but the holiness makes the love within you for life well-up and it shows on your face. The predominant feeling in anybody who was there was innocense. Human being is a fallen angel and will never get to live in the kingdom of God. He has his petty squablings, desires and ego to forever remain ignorant about the grandeur of the cosmos. The gracious smile of the Guardian Buddha arouses the security within you to be comfortable with your childish innocent urge to be forever curious. I looked at the walls adorned with paintings of Dalai Lamas of the past and paintings of Mythological significance hiding within them a fact, which when unlocked will help us bring heaven here on earth. But, of course that is wishful thinking considering the who we humans really are. I was clicking away to glory the colours, so many that I have never seen at a single place ever before. It takes perseverence to sensitize our selves to enjoy the grandeur and is sure is worth the effort packing our bags to arrive here totally unsuspecting of the power, the grace and the sublime of the Namdroling Monastry.

We were ignorant of the bodily tire that we were actually going through. The prayer hall had a hard to explain energy that chanelled through our senses and made us feel vigorous, energetic and fully alert. I have always been fascinated about monastic existence and now I have a semblance of understanding about the objective that a man has to have in his ever precarious journey towards perfection, the ideal, monastic existence makes it easier by keeping the practitioner away from possible pittfalls but nonetheless who said it was ever easy?

I was feeling, though with a realisation that it is short, the innocense that I once had towards everything that was around me. I have lost it but it was good to be in touch with it here again. Reminescing the journey with the passage of time from a fragile kid (always had Mom worried) to a full blooded Man, with very many anecdotes racing my head. But then every thing has its importance and significance but at its own time. My past has passed and its time to move on to explore and realise very many truths and challenges and conundrums that will have me on crossroads. The time had come to bid adieu to Buddha and the other two forces (Destroyer and Creator) with whom I had my own secret conversation of a confused child with the all knowing guardian. We head out to refresh ourselves with fruit juices and my own little shopping where I end up buying a prayer wheel. We head back through the dry Tibetan settlement with colourful prayer flags fluttering with decision in our heads to stop next at Nisargadhama, a sanctuary on a small island formed on the Cauvery. On route we find the anti China propaganda to ban Chinese goods and the propanganda about the Panchen Lama abduction - the youngest political prisoner in the hands of the Chinese. Somehow there is little will throughout the world to stand up to the Chinese. Any country has to have the strength to stand up else it has to succumb to the hell of foreign rule. We humans are such that real peace can only be ensured if we stand up and fight for what we believe is ours- our land, our country, our morals, our values, our freedom with our blood ripping apart our adversaries. Peace and non-violence are things that we must achieve but unfortunately if you want your own country to be defended then you need the necessary evil of war. All I could do then was to wish the Tibetans all the very best in their struggle for their sovereignity.

Anyway, we were getting through the dryness of Bylakuppe and heading towards the greenary that Cauvery has in her womb. The vegetation that so long zipped passed us had a depressing grey hue but things begin to change into olive and so does our heart postponing the realization that we were hopelessly tired. We head out and the bike ride begins to be more fun inspite of our bottoms being in pain. With Pramod in company even I get enthused into singing those very apt hindi songs and humming when there is need to compensate for forgotten lyrics. I realised that there is one problem being a fan of instrumental music. Humming is boring, We need words Baby!!!

Our original objective of visiting the Monastry was over, as a matter of fact thats all we wanted to do. But with time in our hands with a day to spare we just start checking out what more we could do then. As I reminisce now, we were totally out of control. The places we checked out are a lot given the time we had in our hands. No amount of planning would have made us explore so much as you will see now.

The birth of Cauvery happens at TalaCauvery about 48 Km further from Madikeri. The river meanders through Coorg and suffers the Dams both within Karnataka and if fortune would please the Tamilians in Tamilnadu as well. I visioned the Cauvery at this point to be a reckless teenager, but to my dissappointment, summer saps the energy of kids and so is the same for Cauvery - it seemed too wise. Simply that it was not the season where one gets to do white water rafting. The season for that would be between July and August because of the rains, when the Cauvery here turns turbulent.

This place is good for a family outing and most importantly you can make lot of kids happy. We did take the boat ride and the elephant ride. High point here was the oppurtunity to take bath in the cool cool water of the lazily flowing Cauvery - awesome stuff. Anyways it was sunny and we were just fooling around and Pramod and Sajid where at their comic best singing the very old Hindi Songs and totally out of place Urdu poetry. Anyways we did have lot of those photo ops. Those were funny moments and its good to have them around from time to time. Kudos to the attitude of Pramod and Sajid.

With all the fun at Nisargadhama behind us we head on to Madikeri en-route Sunticouppe. My imagination of what Coorg looks like began taking shape and instanly I could relate to my birth place in the North-East, small town Tezpur (Assam), never in my wildest of my imagination did I dream that I would feel so much at home here. The roads here seem to be so familiar reminding me of the majestic greenery and the nice people of the Tezpur. Simplicity of the place made me secure and I could be myself without being reminded of the screwed people you encounter in big cities. This is my turf. Yooohooo!!!!!

You wave at people passing by and they wave at you back, zero hostility, be it an old granny returning from the coffee plantations or little urchins fooling around with a kite. The drive now became a little bit tricky. We were now entering a more hilly terrain and with that we venture on to winding roads making serpentine sweep as it climbs and descends the hills of the Coorg. There is only one cardinal rule one need to adhere when one drives through these hill grade roads- stick to the left, do not overtake and do not take a centre line you can be in big trouble. One gets blinded by the curves that the road takes, hiding behind the invisible face of the hill and suddenly you might see an on coming truck heaving at you. With simple prudence we got to enjoy the otherwise superb road and above all the greenery and big trees that now takes its own sweet time getting behind you - slow and easy. Madikeri was not important, important thing was the journey to get there somehow reminding me of popular quotes on life in general. Sometimes we forget the means but are so caught up with the end. When we travel it is not always important where we are going, every conceivable experience in life teaches something and so does the journey, giving us more wisdom than we can ever imagine. On the bike I was at home usurping the beauty of the land. My aunt, the Coorg. She is patient and is always nice. She lets me play whatever games I want to play and if I get naughty she takes me aside and explains with kindest of words and my love for her makes me understand as well. Such is the motherly feeling that I got to experience and it just washes away all the ill will and the frustration of leading a life that you sometimes feel is rudderless. We reach Madikeri at 5:00 in the evening with about an hour and a half before sunset and check our selves into a lodge. Mayura Valley View was very much affordable and also it was close to the Raja Seat where Kodava Kings used to enjoy beautiful sunsets over their kingdom.

We head to the Raja Seat after we quickly freshen ourselves. The sunset was just around the corner and that was perhaps the only thing on our minds. The view from the Raja Seat was needless to say was too good. The place was reminded of old Tamil, Telegu, Kannada and Hindi movies with the ritual dance of courtship by the "Hero" and the "Heroine" with the odd jealous "Villain" hiding among the bushes and taking a sneak peak at the couple and screwing his eyes and reddenning his chicks to denote jealousy. The view made us very silent. We knew that it was the culmination of the day's trip and we were exhausted but yet some mysterious power plant within still was on the overdrive driving us forward and the view adding to the fuel. We deserved every bit of joy for we really worked hard for it- 270 Km on the bike from Bangalore with good and bad roads is not easy. The sunset was surreal. The moment was very solemn. We looked at each other and suddenly dashed of to another spot to better capture the moment. We walked through the incline on path made out of people with like minded intent of heading on to choicest places to capture the grandeur of the Sun once enjoyed by the royalty of Coorg.

Anyways, the day had come to an end and we got lost for a moment in the wilderness of the slope for walking through precarious paths with tall grass. Finally heading out of the slope we actually found ourselves outside the Raja Seat park. The sun had set and we had all but little option but head back. We were silent and I had very little strength to speak. So much we learnt and experienced in a day and still another day to go. All my friends were making fun of me when I got a 1 GB memory stick for my camera. Well, they dont know me - a shutterbug. I was feeling very proud of myself and I was feeling very proud of Coorg. She made me feel at home and cared for me unconditionally. The day started at 3:30 AM with the customary waking up and readying myself for the trip and now at 7:00 in the evening and Pramod churning out all time Kishore Kumar Hits, though in his own unique style and voice, the day has been an amazing learning experience. I never needed to prove anything whether I could pull a stupid trip or not - if a person puts enough heart and mind behind what he or she thinks can be done, it will be done. The impossible is within all of us, all it takes is to DEFY it. Tomorrow we had the trip back. We go to sleep and amazing thing is that good experience never escaped me even during sleep. Coorg aunty had sent Hema Malini and Neha Dhupia to give me company in my dreams.

Break My Heart

The laughter in your face
The smile in your eyes
Things that I live to see
The flutter that my soul takes
I will never can feel in life normal
Break my heart
For I am human
Wanting to want you for myself

Let me not keep you in chains
Let me not pluck you from your stem, Oh flower.
Break the cages that I have for you- My love for You
Fly free, Fly away
Break my heart
For I am human
Wanting to want you for myself

Sarfarosh

It is the 11th day in the month of February, the time had come to take the call to head out for a totally unplanned trek. Four of us group at our office to head for the Big Banyan tree and then onto to the Avarahalli dam and near by locales about 50-60 Km from Bangalore, little did I know that this trip would be beyond what I ever expected, where I would confront the grand and seamier side to life where all my understanding about life would come to call.

The objective was to head for the Banyan Tree as the first halt after leaving the city, where we would hang around a bit, after this we had a simple plan, head to the dam site and scout for a bathing spot and then finally the camping spot where we would pitch our tent for the night and then if every thing goes well we would head back to the city in the morning and possibly explore other unknown spots. We know nothing about Avarahalli, we know nothing about the terrain, we hardly know the route, all we know is that one of us had heard about the site. This camping trip was fully our own, no professional help whatsoever. As a matter of fact, we did not even know the name of the place where we were heading, its only now that I am back here sitting at home compiling the blog.

The day starts at 5:00 in the morning. Waking up from my sleep with a stiff body with every muscle aching, I ponder why now do I have to wakeup, but then its Mallu's birthday and we have a trek in his honor. Poor fellow had been looking forward to this with innocent delight. Doubts cloud my judgement like "Is it Safe?". But why am I getting bogged down now. A word is a word. I pack my almost non existent luggage and wear my favorit jacket and head out. I ride and reach the office at around 6:00 in the Morning and I am greeted by the early day break and fog.

We take stock of the luggage we were about to take and have a small photo-op before we head out for the trek and we cry out (a cry conceived by the Birthday boy Mallu) "Hail Banayan Tree". The bikes of choice- two 150 cc Bajaj Pulsars, tough machine really and as it turned out it was a good choice for the terrain we were to face.

We ride on until we reach the Big Banyan Tree and the first thing that crossed my mind was "thats it!?!". The impression for the rest of the day was that it was going to be a short trip and we would find it difficult to have ourselves motivated to go ahead and complete the objective- camp through the night.

We rode on with zero expectation about the next rendezvous with the dam at Avarahalli. We were altogether more focussed at the task ahead riding through the village bad roads and riding through it safely. The experience of biking, the dust in our eyes and the unexpected scenic beauty enroute to the dam was begining to make me wonder that hey, it may not be all that bad. We had to ask for directions from the villagers who were surprised at our gear and the lack of understanding of Kannada, and ya I forgot to mention, non of us knew an iota of Kannada, luckily as you would see later this impediment was of no consequence in our trip.

We were getting a hang of the road and were quite enjoying it and were also feeling how remote we really are. We were getting further and further away from the safe haven were civic system could rescue us from any possible danger (or is it really that?). But nonetheless we felt more and more unfamiliar with whatever was around us and suddenly we were on an alien terrain and there was only one thing that we could possibly do- To explore.

We knew we had to drive further on from what a villager told us in whatever broken Kannada we could understand. But we were not quite prepared to discover what the dam and its catchment area would seem like, and there it was, nestled within the grail made out of mountains and us looking down upon it we knew that we were there. We had nervous energy running through our veins and there was freshness in our spirit at the prospect that lay ahead of us- we were not beaten by the tire of carrying the luggage on our backs and the bike ride.

The next thing we did of course was to fool around. We got on top of a hillock and Mallu bhai had the customary Brithday bumps and there were video shoot of the entire scenary of the environs surrounding the dam (and of course the BUMPS). The sight of water the Birthday spirit of our hatefully loved Mallu had atleast me in my most geekish self. I was the lead anchor of the a show very akin to the Globe Trotter in the Travel and Living channel though an idea not shared by my trek mates (they wanted a female anchor- speak of gender equality). So myself, Mallu, Rats, and the Builder got to plan- Where to find the spot where we could have a bath.


It was decided that two scouts be sent to explore the land and find out the best spot to have our bath. To me it was just like we were a bunch of renegade western outlaws on our horses and living the wild wild west. Myself and mallu were the scouts simply because we were more likely to understand any southern tongue among the locals. What we wanted to do was to cross over to the other side of the bank because it was rocky when compared to the bank we were standing on, where the water was slushy for there were no rocks. But there was no road to get to the other side. To get there through land by getting around the back water would require us to hide our bikes somewhere before we venture on a long long walk. But this was not a very alluring option to fall back on so we went about exploring other possibilities like crossing over the water, but how?. We kept riding and we came across a small fishing hamelet on our side of the bank. From there we could see small number of housing on the other side and some guys were coming over to our side on a raft. There was a military truck standing on our side of the bank and we presumed that those guys were part of some sort of Army base camp in this remote place of Avarahalli.

But Mallayalam had helped and it was time Mallu came on his own. There is something electric when a Malayali meets another Malayali. And sparks flew with tongue twisters exchanged as two old friends meet for the first time now. The Army camp denizens were all Malayali (they were part of the Rowing Team of the Engineering Regiment called the Madras Sappers). What Mallu, after his conversation with the Army man, found was that he could pursuade one of the fisher man to take us across to the other side in his Koraikol (round boats) but we had to park our bike on our present bank. We take the call- we would leave our bikes to the mercy of the heavens and proceed to the other side.

We got to the other side of the bank and stripped to jump into the ice cold water- the water was deceptively cold. We had one helluva fun, cracking beer cans open (glug glug glug) and tossing some into the water for sport. We had food and again more video shoot but this time it was more skin show ;).

In the ensuing merriment we got to paddle the Koraikols, the boat man and his son were amused at us, with the junior hogging the Bhujjiya and the senior the Whisky- STRAIGHT and NEAT. It was one hell of an abandonment we got to enjoy. I was not covetting anything around me, I let go, and lived the moment and boy it was liberating.

But all good things has to come to end and we had to head back. On board the Koraikols we set of back to the bank where we had parked the Bikes. This trip was more silent as time stood still, dead still, and I am in the middle of it. It was surreal. We hop back on our bikes and set of for the Motel that happened to be on our way. Initially we wanted to take charcoal with us so that we could manage a barbeque but this being our first trip we wanted to cut down on our luggage. We got to the Motel and I fell in love with the locales surrounding it. Mallu took off on one of the bikes to the nearest village (about 5 Km form the spot) helping his other Mallu friend in the Army to ensure supply of cigarretes back to the army base camp. The base camp is for the Army Rowing team and cigarretes is actually a NO NO there. But nonetheless there are human cravings that need to be satiated.

Rats and builder are already beat, Mallu takes off on his bike and I stand in the middle of this virgin beauty. I was just standing there. I was not thinking. I was just there simply. Neither did I take a walk or bother to sit, just standing. Time was not moving, I stand on this alien land looking around for nothing. I simply look. It was hours just like that, I did not feel like sitting atleast. The beauty was right in front of me. I would not say that it had captivated me or had me dumb. Later in the end of the trip, about where I stood, I will have have a precisely contradictory feeling but now as I stood there the simplicity that surrounded me made me smile within. Where do I belong in this world? I am just a speck that cannot be destroyed. I am free. Just looking for answers in this big contradiction, but that is the fun part, actually it is futile to go looking for one. It is just a little child's play, he is all engrossed in it, he hates to lose and loves to win and winning and losing he keeps going on, playing a game. I am here playing a game, trying to find my self, when I am already aware who I am. But let there be this mystery, there is no fun unless things are actually mysterious. Life is not worth living when one never faces any contradiction. I will face contradictions, precisely on the very same night when circumstances take a dramatic turn. Now I am in the middle of this vast landscape, amused at the cranes and the hawks hovering over the water. Looking at the distant hills and wondering- "Cool. Man its worth it."

Something hits me, I was not done yet. I had to exhaust myself. But how?. I was burning up but my enthusiasm was not shared among the other three. Mallu comes back and we have food at the Motel. Every body was amused at the locales and we wonder if we pitch the tent on the bank of the lake that was part of the property of the Motel. Thou shalt never succumb for easy routes for it may lead to misadventure. We took the safe route and a big contradiction would hit us soon...especially me. But for now, every thing was "Kewl". We leave the Motel to a different secluded place on the bank and rest. I was not in a mood to rest. I proposed to climb the hill that was adjoining the road. I wanted to explore that.

Builder seemed to have sufficient rest at the Motel and he joined me for the climb. The climb was tough. The summit seemed further and further away from us. It would easily be close to 3 Km on the incline of the hill. I looked around my boots to find ashes from previous bush fires. The place was dry, bushy so one had to be careful not to carry any cigarretes or matches, even batteries, or shards of glass. The rocks, surrounded by dry drass and thorn bush surrounding it, made it difficult to move on. After a particularly steep climb to top of one of the rocks, builder halts to take breath. The summit is still further on and builder asks me take a call whether to climb further or head back. My madness was culpable. I said- "Lets Climb".


Further trek to the summit was easy, the terrain was less rocky. The summit was getting nearer and nearer and I began to feel sad, why are we getting to the summit so soon though whole of my leg was aching and I was heaving for breath. Of course the photo shoot went on, and the view was breath taking. It almost knocked my senses out. I was on a high, high on adrenaline. Builder and I were ecstatic and started to claim the ownership of the hill. It was ours. Our domain. The distant river, lake, the distant mountains, the dam, evrything was ours, and Why? because we could see them. I am the king of the World. Hail Le' Empeurer.



I felt very powerful at the summit. I was ready to die. ....I was die-ing to live. This was what I wanted to achieve. ....Sarfaroshi ki Tamanna.
But all this was of the ecstasy of the feeling I was going through. A tired body, a determined mind and the majestic view. Its simply transcendental. I would not have felt it if it were a normal walk in the park to get to a great scenic spot. The exertion was what made the climb exceptional and also the extra spice that we had in our trip, recklessness. This is what youth is. I felt that I was capable of immense power.....and the power was within me.

The trek down was interesting. We forgot the route down and we actually took the route that we actually avoided during the assent. Interesting. All the urge to shoot for photos just vapourised. I had more immediate concern- getting down the hill in one piece. Boy it was crazy. I am mad really. Builder was as foolish as I was, he actually at one point made mad dash down the slope. He almost lost control on the speed and a lone tree saved him as he grabbed it for dear life. Any serious injury here and its Good Bye Beautiful Life. We managed :). and I was panting and just lay down were Rats and Mallu were basking.

" Ok, 5min, and then we are to the Dam site",
this was the call given by me at those poor trek mates and they looked at me with tired but scornful eyes, as a cadet looks at a drill seargent. It was as if I was drugged with Steroids and I wanted to have a full go at whatever Avarrahalli had to offer. The drive to the dam actually commenced about 30 mins later, the time was 5:30 pm and it was close to the time for the Sun to set. This was a crucial blunder. This time should have been spent to look for the Camping site, in our minds we were having ourselves easy by camping on the property of the Motel. This is the time when whatever light the setting sun afforded, one should look out for the camp site and decide. Earlier in the morning we did have an alternate site in mind but the lure of easy food and tired bodies to look out for, we picked the easy way out. Easy way my friend is sometimes not the judiciuos way but then again there is no rule of thumb. We had to take a call, we took it, period.

The Dam site was actually restricted. Rats and Builder decided to stay back beside our bike and wanted to proceed with the camping. I was adamant to go for it. Mallu this time agreed to accompany. We sneeked passed an opening beside the gate leading to the dam. We walked talking all kinds of nonsense. But crucially we missed the Sunset. "Damn!". Anyways we had our photo-op around the Dam. The Dam was actually very small. The structure we looked down upon from the hillocks and my mountain looked impressive. On the structure itself, it was not very impressive. But then again, this is not Bhakra Nangal.
Finally, good sense prevails on me. We decide to head back as the darkness spreads around us. It became dark quite quickly with the setting sun. We ride back through the narrow road, which now seemed narrower. Mallu now had suggested one camping spot that we could now think about. But it was too damn dark. Myself and Mallu (always been the scout in the team) head in the darkness across the fields towards the bank. A dog comes out of nowhere and barks at us. Its a small dog of the old guy who was sleeping in the field. He helps us out giving directions and calming the dog. We didnt understand a word he uttered so we humoured him and went on.

But both of us were in awe of the loyalty the dog showed towards its master. We reach the bank and were dissappointed at the sticks that were jutting out of the ground- Seting up the Tent here was not possible. I realised the time we lost before the sunset and head back to the only option that seemed to lay ahead of us- To camp beside the motel. We thought, that we would be safe from animals and will be in less trouble. But we did not account for the menace that the most dangerous animal could pose- The Humans.

We pitched our tent and it was fun. I was shooting the entire process of setting up the tent.
The thing about these Wildcraft tents is that it is so very easy. Only thing is to choose the ground to lay the tent, let it be as even as possible. It was good that we had search lights (those rechargeable ones) otherwise we had a tricky task in the darkness. It was good that it was full moon day with the slight ambient light and of course the search lights.

This was the begining to the end. Our objective of trekking, bathing, and finally tenting for the night have been met (tick, tick and tick). Finally we had the camp fire with the wood given to us by the Motel Guy. The moon was by now rising over our head (forboding something sinister? ). We sat by the fire and started on the dinner. Of course the drinks made further rounds and I was happy with my pepsi. We remenisced the time we started the trip and the present moment discussing the confidence we had attained in making such a fun filled trip possible. Things started getting more and more silent. We were tired. I and Mallu lingered beside the fire while Rats and Builder coveted the choicest sleeping spot inside the tent. I loved the silent night beside the fire. Every thing was calm and it was an ideal place to look into one's self and think about who we are.

The time was 1:00 AM and I finally decided to head to the tent, so did Mallu. We went in and took the most undesirable portion of the tent, the sides. I was happy about myself and the trip we had, but now things would change about 45 mins later.

I was just about to sleep and the rest of the guys had already slept. A troupe of software company guys arrive at the motel with excited and happy voices eager to camp as well (my guess). One couple walk around some what close to our tent and were having those sweet fights that only couples can have. I was amused at the conversation about the lady telling her guy that he doesnt love her enough and the guy trying to say all the sweet words to make her feel loved. This went on and so made my sleeping in the tent impossible. I just lay there with happy guitar strumming and song making somewhere close to the tent in my ears.

The time is now 2:00 AM (12 Feb). A different gang of guys and with two girls arrive at the motel with loud merriment. They set up their fire close to our tent and thus began the most uncomfortable night of my life. I hear a voice of five to six men and the meek voices of two girls. One of the girls was from U.P and the other from Darjeeling. Needless to say that the two girls were prostitutes and the means of merriment for the gang of guys in this secluded and remote locale. In the begining there was only loud teasing and laughter at the girls and the software/BPO gang was still around. At 2:15 AM I stop hearing the software gang. This perhaps signaled the guys outside our camp to cut loose. One of them (claiming himself to be Munna Bhai- "Akkha Mumbai mein Raj Karta Hai" in jest) was flirting with the easy picking of the two girls. He was the only chap who knew hindi and amusing himself with the girls. He asks one of the girls whether he looks like Salman Khan and the girls oblige with seemingly innocent laughter. The rest of the gang knew nothing about hindi except the usage of filthy language. It was funny how these fellow made love talk to these already resigned girls with filth and whatever impediment hindi caused in expressing filth was compenesated with further rounds of Kannada. I dont understand Kannada too well and whatever little I knew gave my an impression of its sweetness. But what I got to hear with those fellows on a high had shattered the image I had and made me aware of the potential scope of darkness in Kannada.

The girls had resigned to fate about what was to happen with their bodies. They continued to sound descent throughout the night's episode. They obliged to sing in Hindi and in broken Kannada, the girl from U.P was more silent and the one from Darjeeling was the voice I heard more often, in my uncomfortable state of affairs in the tent. The Darjeeling girl says, in one of the conversation when being asked about her idea of marriage and whether she is married, that she had been married for about 7 years and she never got to live with her husband. But she sounded like a very young girl. I remembered Devchand during my stay in Indiranagar in Bangalore. He too was from Darjeeling and he once told me that marriages happen very early among his people, the Nepalis. So I presumed that this girl from Darjeeling must be aged at about 20 years.

With the freedom and the gaity in the gang in an assent through the night the guys started fondling the girls and the misuse of their bodies had begun. The girls with resigned voices endured whatever perversion the gang met on them all the while showing the humanity that still lingered in their minds. At one time one of the Dogs had come close to them perhaps for the bones, those munched and thrown by the gang. One of the guys who was handling one of the girl threw a stone and uttered some filth at the dog. The girl actually took pity at the dog and started complaining to the fellow who had her own body in his possession. It was simply poignant.

The guys offered some food to the girls and one of them refused for it consisted of meat. The girl from U.P was actually a Brahmin. This amused the chaps but it was only an amusement. They knew what they wanted and will have it.

All this happened beside our tent. I could hear every wail and even the silent resignation of the girls and also the misuse of their physical constitution. The girl from Darjeeling asked the "Salman Khan" what our tent was, and he said that there are four guys sleeping inside.. She actually complained that those fellows should not be very loud for it may disturb us. Salman of course had an explanation - "The guys in the tent are sleeping!". At 4:00 AM all of us were awake, builder asks about what on earth was happening outside. I shushed him. This time around the girl from U.P, after serving one of the guys asked him what our tent was. Two fellows came up with an answer. One of them said that its green house and the other- A Snake Pit. We inside the tent could not help laughing in silence.

I was getting incresingly pissed off with those fellows outside. After a while they stopped being loud. I wanted to take a leak and so I had to venture out- It was 4:45 in the morning and it was still dark. I got out and relieved myself. I turned and looked at them but the gang had gone into one of the motel rooms and I could here the Girls moan and the pervert laughter of the gang members. It strikes me and suddenly all the beauty of Avarahalli turn to filth right in front of my eyes. I spit and head into the tent, I decide not to wait for sleep but for the day break.

Day breaks and we head out of the tent to relieve our bowels. Those chaps were still there. This time we see them. There was no shame in their eyes about what they did, on the contrary we were ashamed when our eyes met with theirs. We see the girls as well and all my respect for them I felt the night before, vapourise. This is the contradiction in my thought that I failed to understand. I actually hated them as well. Its the same hate I felt for Avarahalli, inspite of the majestic beauty of this place, inspite of my knowledge about their strength of humaneness in their heart.

We reach Bangalore as bodies without any strength to comprehend or to judge what had happened the night before. I ride back to my house as a drained man with no sleep and I slept. I wake to a phone call from my Mom at 7:00 in the evening. I speak to her in a tired voice and she then asks me to go to sleep and reminded me wake up to have dinner. I get to wake up only the next day, 13 February, forgetting the dinner on 12th. Finally, realising that in actuality no contradiction is possible.