Tuesday, February 28, 2006
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
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
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 ;).
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Learning to Fly
Fresh Day and with an urge to live.
I look forward with eager eyes to give
All I have within me to know
How to be Stupid and Hungry
I am free
All I ever I want to be
Is to be free
So I can Learn
To Fly
Hover over, see more
See more to Life
Fly fast, tumble, role
Bask in the joy of what life
Can give, can take away
I let go
for I am learning to fly
Monday, February 06, 2006
A New Begining
I have pondered long and deep as to what happenned to my impetuos urge to Blog. The hype that I have seen within me died down. So tragic as the case may be I have lost count of infinite nice things that have happened to me over the course since my last Blog and the this. Some of the most ground breaking changes in my perception towards things in general took place. It is futile to recreate them in my head and describe them for the very exercise is fraught with the danger of misrepresenting the facts as they actually are. But time moves forward and can move backward in our imagination. Simply put, is there a particular need to have journals or Web-Log a.k.a Blog? No there is not, it is only a matter of choice, the same matter of choice as having a photograph. Some how we humans want to stop time, though for an instant, arrest the epoch that is of some significance whatsoever and rerun it in our head and feel good/bad/or downright ugly.
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