In the Air

So jaded and cynical we have become of life that we’ve forgotten to look for the small joys, hidden as they are. It took me an hour long flight to Ahmedabad to realise this sad truth of our allegedly superior city living.

On the flight was a group of elderly women, on their first plane journey. That they were from a village was obvious from their attire and the fact that excitement hung over their seats like a happy cloud with rainbows streaking through. As the aircraft taxied for take-off, most of the passengers leaned back in their seats, eyes closed, preparing for what was a routine experience. Not these ladies. Childish giggling and whispers could be heard from them even as the aircraft picked up speed and leapt into the air. Oh how I wished at that time that it was my first airplane ride, just so that I could share in what those women were experiencing – unbridled pleasure and glee, untouched by the fake expressions city folk have gotten used to, as they saw the city growing smaller and smaller before their eyes and getting enveloped by fluffy white clouds broken only by arrows of sunshine. Of course, they were also the only ones on the entire aircraft who actually heard what the cabin crew was saying about safety procedures, even looking shocked at the idea of emergency landings.

As we flew to Ahmedabad, I don’t think any of these women sat back in her seat even once. All of them kept leaning towards the window, trying to get a look outside. At one point a cramped version of musical chairs happened when the women exchanged seats so that everyone could get a chance by the window. So much fun. And when the food trolley passed by, it was simply hilarious, their expressions, at hearing the cost of samosas and chai. Of course, there were some aware people in the group. They chose to lecture their friends on how to appear cool about prices when sitting in an aeroplane.

And then there was the new experience of going to the toilet in the air. I think they were waiting for someone to go first, all of them being a little shy. But as soon as the first one got up to go, all of them did. And their faces when they came back! I never realised that the cramped tiny space that passes for a restroom in airplanes could be so fascinating. Of course, i think that some of them went into the lavatory only to be able to describe it for years to come.

On landing, the women burst into spontaneous applause and laughter. Unable to control my curiosity any longer, I leaned forward and asked one of the men accompanying them what this was all about. And the answer thrilled me to no end. These women were all from the same village, most of them related to each other. The men accompanying them were sons, nephews, grandsons who’d decided to give them the experience of a lifetime. Since these women had only heard about, seen planes on tv and in magazines, they’d decided to fly them from Pune to Ahmedabad. In fact, the group was scheduled to take the evening train back to Pune the very same day, having had the best time of their life already.

I’m glad I was on the plane that day. Even today, thinking about that journey, I smile. And I remind myself that flying up there with the clouds is something to be excited about, no matter how jaded I might be on ground. 

Once the seatbelt sign was off, they stood up to look at the clouds  

Preparing to get off the aircraft

Group Photo

Of Travel Companions

You know how some people look really familiar and you can’t figure out for the life of you why? And then you know how you assume it’s a very common combination of features and go on to plug your headphones in, ignoring that person? Yes?

Turns out, not a very good idea. Why? Because that person seemingly knows your entire family, is somehow related to you, and is (as you has correctly inferred already), a dragon of the kind that shreds reputations to pieces and gossips the ears off a donkey.

And so, after about two and half hours of getting away with pretending to work on your laptop (all the while watching Greys Anatomy S07), you are asked where you live. And little did you know that one small, innocuous detail will result in three of five travel companions naming all of your dad’s family, complete with details that made it to the gossip circuit, and start asking you all kinds of weird questions, including why you have no brothers. And then when you try to hint at ending the conversation (by the simple act of putting the headphones back on), they ignore the subtlety and continue talking.

The next 3 hours then see (mostly) one sided discussions on love marriages (these are spoken about in hushed, dripping with judgement tones), municipal corporations (with reference to how many people they know personally there), daughterinlaws wearing sarees and covering their heads (epic WTFness this), cricket, the Gujarat riots, merits of bhujiya, bread and achaar and of course, whether the train was on time or not.

Yes, a lot of mental barfage happened. And yes, parts of the brain withered up and died. But now you know that the next time someone in a train asks you where you live, pretend to have amnesia.

Depressing at Best

After hearing so much about Gurgaon malls and the whole “mall culture”, I have to say I’m super-depressed right now.

The Fellow and I decided to go mall-hopping since we were in the vicinity and had the time (though not necessarily the inclination on my part). And my instinct proved right. As always. Not only are the malls quite lame in terms of the shops they hold, they’re terribly designed, and are a complete waste of space and all kinds of important resources. And to complete the sorry sight is the near absence of people and bored security guards. The only things that are moving in these malls are the escalators.

My analysis and judgment of the gaon malls is purely based on my extensive experience with those in Bombay. And even without my natural and all too justified bias towards my city, Bombay malls are so much swankier, shinier, happier and generally welcoming (most of them at least). And even when people are not actively shopping in them, they give a sense of activity and the food courts are always full. Here, the food courts were a sad sight, with maybe half a dozen people looking lost and wondering what they were doing there. And I don’t blame them. The food outlets were nothing to write home about. Quite the contrary actually.

And the worst bit is that most of the shops in the malls (and I mean all the malls here) are closed on Tuesdays. It’s a mall for crying out loud. You can’t have 10 malls in a 2 kilometre radius and then pull the shutters down one day a week! Who does that? What kind of a place is this? Sheesh!

I never really liked Delhi. And now my disdain extends towards its suburbs also. Tsk. Tsk.

Time for Another Countdown

I haven’t posted anything for 10 days now, and after writing everyday for 112 days, I feel a little guilty. But I have good reason (actually reasons) for being rude to the few readers I have and my blog – I’ve been making memories and soaking up experiences like never before (I’m also trying my hand at being a little more poetic).

To begin with, I’m revelling in the fact that I’m in Shimla with the Fellow. It just seems a nicer place with him. A lot of it has to do with the fact that wherever we go, he has a story to tell– where he bunked school and ate parathas (and then went to check out the local chicas), where he went to eat strawberries and stuff tiffins with them too, the route he took to school (when he went), where the best momos are available, where he played video games etc.

Then there is the cold – and my constant efforts to deal with it. Thankfully even the locals are feeling it, and so I can complain without hurting my pride (not that it mattered really). The only concession I’ve made is that I’m not adding gloves to my outfit of a sweater (and a heavy coat), muffler and ear guards. The gloves will make me a sissy you see. The rest of it is just cool winter fashion!

Oh, and there was a three day trip into the interiors of Himachal Pradesh. The trip can be summarised into a few words - a wooden house, apple orchards, pine forest covered mountains, snow covered peaks, brooks, winding roads, slate roofs, leaves changing colour, cool breezes and the warm sun. Sigh. Even my city girl soul was moved (something the Fellow had given up on). Of course, this trip needs a post of its own, but I guess that will be only photos (I obviously went click happy…how could I not right?)

For now, I’m planning on a countdown to the new year…or at least my first wedding anniversary. Anything to give me a purpose on this blog again.

Road Tripping

1 Car.

2 travellers.

3 days.

4 states.

The Fellow and I took our very first road trip together last week, and drove nearly a 1000 km across north India to make it home for Diwali. And we made it just in time, driving into the city as the first stars appeared in the skies and diyas and candles down below.

Over 3 days, the Fellow and I made it from the desert to the mountains. And though I was hesitant to begin with (what with being severely motion sick and all), I’m glad we didn’t take the train like we originally planned. For starters, I got to see more of small town India in one trip than I had ever before. Second I learnt that I can be drugged up to my ears with anti-motion sick medication and stay awake. And finally, I got to spend concentrated time with the Fellow after a really long time. Yay.

I can now finally appreciate road trips and all the hoopla surrounding them. I mean, just the bright and colourful truck art makes the effort worthwhile. And then there is always the possibility that you will come across an insight into India and its people which make for excellent photo opportunities.

And now, instead of going on and on about how we listened to one CD over and over again, all the junk food piled in the car, the chocolate I consumed, the book I read (aloud, in the manner of an audio-book), the songs we sung in a terribly off-key fashion, the morons who are aloud to drive and who are on a suicide mission, the idiots who put speed brakers on an otherwise excellent highway, the flat tires we had etc, I’m just going to put some pictures up from the road trip.

All photographs are copyrighted.

This Feeling I Have

(Day 105 of 112)

As the days pass by, and the countdown (or countup) gets closer to the end, there are a multitude of feelings in me, that are making my head a very annoying place to be in right now. I don’t know which way to think and this is leaving me standing all confused and lost in the middle of my own head.

To begin with, there is the excitement. Obviously. I am super-thrilled to finally be with the Fellow again and can barely stop grinning whenever someone mentions the name of the town he is in right now.

Then there is the worry – about all the packing and travelling I have to do. Not that I’m afraid of either. It’s just that I’m a little (and I make an understatement here) fed up of living out of a suitcase and dread the idea of packing. Then there is the travelling. Both trains I have to take are at 6 in the morning and my worry is about waking up in time to catch them. And even if I do wake up, I just hope I’m lucid enough to carry my bags and walk without support! 6am. Godforsaken hour I tell you.

Add to all of this, increasing panic, about all the work I have to finish, before I can go waltzing off to the Fellow and at least a fortnight of no productivity. I complained about this yesterday and nothing has changed today. Except that I’ve slept a little lesser. And I get cranky when I do that – sleep less that is.

This crankiness is made worse with the damn furnace that I’m living in right now. The universe seriously doesn’t like me and global warming has done the rest. And so instead of experiencing a cool pre-winter, it’s back to the summer and seriously torturous temperatures of 45 deg C! How is one to achieve any work in this kind of weather I ask you?

And so, this feeling I have, is of extreme conflict. The excitement in me is fighting to stay afloat amidst the worry, panic, crankiness and of course the heat. But I have a sinking feeling that it’s a lost cause. All I can do now, is wait it out and hope that the Fellow can sort it all for me!

I Don't Believe This!

(Day 102 of 112)

I’m back to making travel plans. I fail to understand how I keep getting caught in the trap that is planning. Of course, since I’m neurotic about such stuff one would imagine it would be a fun activity. But it’s not. It’s driving me crazy (yes, more than usual). Not only do I have to coordinate with everyone (and I mean literally everyone) around me, I also have to listen to the exact same number of personal opinions, and travel gyan, whether I asked for them or not. Then there is the grandmother who randomly keeps mumbling about how I’m shamelessly super-excited about going to the Fellow and I should show some decency and sharam (but I excuse her since she also keeps teasing me about the Fellow which is quite cute really!). And so, I have to take into consideration some half dozen (at least) variations on when to go, how to go, what to take, what to do (and for the grandmother, why to go) etc.

Thankfully the one thing everyone is decided on is where I have to go. Godforsaken place which thankfully has a Dominoes, here i come! :D

Recovering

(Day 93 of 112)

Have been travelling for a few days now. The body (and mind) has to now recover from

-the constant movement the body has been subjected to

-the lack of plug points into which to hook my computer

-the phone running out of battery and thus unfinished quota of talking with the Fellow

-the shock of finding myself in the middle of the desert after a month in the shade of the Himalayas.

Will see you on the other side of my nap. Cheers

Of Road Trips and Semi-Comatose States

(Day 86 of 112)

So, readers of this blog will know that most times I use this medium of communication for venting pent up emotions (read: complaining and whining). I can’t help it really. Most things that happen to me demand that they be complained about.

Like today. The in-laws and I went to a relative’s home about 40 kms from Shimla. Now while this doesn’t seem like a lot, in the mountains, the curving, winding roads makes it seem just so much longer and definitely more painful.

Why painful? Because I’m extremely motion sick. And mountain roads don’t help one bit. In fact so little do they help that the last time some cousins decided to go for coffee (a 20 minute drive through super twisty roads), I ended up in the hotel bathroom throwing up.

And so the only way to travel longish distances on these roads is to be medicated and in a semi-comatose state. This effectively means that I make a terrible travel companion as all I do is sleep my head off (generally on the shoulder of the person sitting to me). It doesn’t matter how long the journey is. I can sleep right through it, if only to avoid throwing up (not that it helps all the time).

But today it did help. All through the 80 odd kilometres that we travelled today, I was drugged and asleep in the backseat of the car, happily oblivious to anything around me. Only once did I get up, and that because my feet felt cold. But since the MIL gave me the FIL’s sweater to keep warm, it wasn’t long before I was stretched out in a contented semi-comatose state again, warm feet and all.

Of Husbands and Travel Plans

(Day 78 of 112)

I learnt an important lesson today. Never ever, ever, discuss travel plans with the Fellow, especially if he’s not at hand to book tickets, carry my luggage, buy me junk food in the train or be there to wake me up at the ungodly hour at which the station arrives.

And how did I learn this lesson? The hard way of course – by doing exactly what I shouldn’t have. I discussed my travel plans with the Fellow. And oh how I wish I hadn’t done it now. My unthinking and well intentioned act of wanting to keep the Fellow involved and informed blew up in my face. Big time.

Not only did he veto everything I said, he insisted that he talk to his mum and then told her that everything she was saying was also now vetoed. He also extended his jurisdiction to his dad, whom he hadn’t even spoken to yet. Then he got back on the phone with me and told me my new travel plan. And when I refused (being the independent and strong woman that I am) the Fellow decided that the only way to get me to change my mind was to sulk like a three yr old. Now while this was very cute (and so misguided really) it didn’t work (duh). And so the Fellow had to resume talking.

So there we were. Standing on that proverbial square one, with the MIL telling me to ignore what the Fellow was telling me, and the Fellow telling me to ignore Ma. It was hilarious for a bit because there wasn’t anything the Fellow could really do, but he was trying so hard. I could almost hear him thinking what a stubborn mule his wife is!

And then it was frustrating because I hate travelling alone and having no one to talk to. I hate having to eat alone in the train with only a book for company because random strangers look at me like I’m the crazy lady from the land that reads. I hate having to worry about waking up in time. I hate having to manage my own bags because I know they’re going to be heavy.

But most of all I hate having to make all these stupid plans. Everyone around me has a different opinion on what I should do, how I should do it and when I should do it. It’s driving me crazy. Not only do I have to be all responsible and grown up (damn), all this thinking and planning is just too much for my holidaying and relaxed, almost semi-comatose brain.

In a First...

(August 11th, Day 61 of 112)

I travelled alone by train to a different city.

I didn’t sleep at all in the train.

I visited Chandigarh.

I fell in love with a place that was not Bombay.

I bought, well was made to buy, 3 pairs of jutis, 3 sweaters, 1 saree, 1 salwar kameez, 2 tee-shirts, 1 pair of jeans and a pair of earrings – all in a day and a half.

I went for a movie with the in-laws.

I travelled to Shimla by road.

I didn’t throw up when travelling up a mountain by road.

I missed the Fellow more than ever before.

In a first…well…since the Fellow left at least…I’m running out of things to blog about. Or maybe the cold (relative to the land of camels and dal-baati) has just gotten to my brain cells. After all it has been known to happen right?

On the Move

(August 9th, Day 59 of 112)

Was travelling all day on the 8th. Jodhpur to Chandigarh. Long journey. Had a plug point in the compartment. Hogged it since nobody else wanted to use it. Well, then i didnt hog it did i? Also had friends travelling the same route. Gabbed all the way. And ate. Love train journeys. Now all we need is the Indian Railway system to go Wifi and it will be the perfect picnic ever!