The one and only - my maths teacher

Maths scares me...petrifies me. It's as if someone has jinxed with me petrificus totalus and locked my ability to move. It wasn't always like that. I used to manage good grades..HCF LCM were a delight. That was till Std VI. And then I met Medusa, my maths teacher. That is one woman I will never forget. The memory of her face still makes me shudder. Everything about her...the bright orange lip stick, the fat mole on her upper lip, her greasy oily hair.....aaaaargh...still make me want to turn away in horror. We ran a happy mutual admiration society in school...she hated me and I hated her more..if that was possible..,

And the happy times we shared...makes me want to dedicate a ballad for her. The time she threw my notebook in the dustbin or shredded my answer sheet into pieces. I still remember the time when I asked permission to go for the investiture ceremony rehearsals and she looked at me in disdain. "You are a scholar!!!!! Yoooooooou"her big ghowlish eyes couldn't have gotten bigger. As I stood there humiliated to the core, a lovely classmate of mine (they don't make them like these anymore) stood up and remarked, "Ma'am Ma'am, she used to be a great student...god only knows what happened to her this year." That was just the icing on the cake. And that's how the nightmares started. Every time I had to take an exam, I would dream the same dream__ it's the day of the maths exam, I haven't studied a thing, I get the question paper and simply blank out. These nightmares continue till date....everytime I face a crisis or am nervous, it's the same damn dream. Each time I wake up frantically, all set for a rebuke from my teacher. After five desperate disoriented minutes, when I am assured that the Medusa is nowhere around and there isn't any Maths exam to study for, I go back to sleep.

I don't think Maths would have made me so miserable if it hadn't been for the dragoness. I could have done well too, maybe a trig or algebra problem would have lit within me the same crazy energy that seemed to have possessed all those maths honours students. Nothing ever made me feel so helpless as a Maths sum...I just didn't know what is it that I was doing wrong.

If only I could meet the Medusa now....I just wish......

chilling in jilling

the good part about having a five day week is that it allows you to take short breaks away from the city. It was the middle of the week, ideally I should have been glued to the PC looking for story ideas or something. It was insanely hot, I was insanely bored and a colleague of mine had said insanely so many times that I just had to take a break. So I did what I do best...google. And I came across this beautiful place tucked away in the hills of Kumaon. The Jilling Estate. Run by ex airforce man Steve Lal and his wife Parvati, this seemed to be the ideal retreat from the noisy annoying heat of delhi.
So we packed our bags and headed off to Jilling. A short distance ahead of Bhimtal and a short distance behind Mallah Ramgarh, this quiet estate is home to an amazing variety of flora and fauna. We were in for a bit of a shock when we reached there. One had to park the car at the base camp and then trudge it up from there. After nearly half an hour of uphill climb I was ready to give up and head back home. But then out of nowhere popped out a barasingha and I was hooked. I just had to go a little further to see what more lay up there. So a route which takes seasoned climbers 15 minutes took me nearly an hour to climb....feeling thoroughly ashamed of myself and cursing the whole world for inflicting this climb on me, I finally made it to the estate. And boy was it worth it!  (by the way, you don't need to be as stupid as me....you can hire a pony or a horse and reach the estate in half the time and with half the effort). Each cottage in Jilling is located nearly one kilometre away from the other...so you almost feel like you are all alone with  nature. The beautiful comfy cottage was nestled amidst a plethora of green. With huge chestnut trees swaying regally near the fire area, one could see rows and rows of flowers and shrubs around us. As the mist settled on the mountains, one could feel the nip in the air. Coming from the sweltering plains of Delhi, a slight chill was more than welcome.
Umesh, a young lad armed with a degree in Political Science, took charge of us. He would come everyday from the main kitchen (located way way up in the estate), loaded with piping hot food. Eating outdoors with simply the sounds of birds chirping and wind gently caressing the mountains, was an experience in itself. The day we arrived, it started pouring and we watched drops settle on the grass in front of our cottage as we ate.
I dunno what is it about the hills that ensures such sound sleep. A hearty meal followed by a lazy afternoon siesta was just what we needed. I don't think I have ever slept this well. The evening proved pretty exciting. Umesh came to us in the evening and warned us with a sense of urgency to close all our doors and windows. Some members of the staff had come across a leopard while coming down to our cottage. Part of me hoped that a leopard would come by our cottage and another part of me just wanted to hide in one corner of the room. Well, no such exciting incidents happened and I woke up the next day to a glorious morning.
Umesh whisked us along for a walk on the ridge. We generously poured salt into our socks and shoes to avoid the leeches but alas! it wasn't enough. My shoes were soon crawling with them and I also got bitten twice. It doesn't hurt at all...when the leech is stuck on to you tend to feel a little tingly and cold...it is only the sight of blood that sometimes gets to people. After heartily donating a few mm of blood to the leeches, we moved on and reached the ridge which was at a height of some 6,800 feet. The sight was spectacular....the woods were shrouded in mist and everything looked like an enchanted fairy land right out of an Enid Blyton book. At any time I thought Moonface or Silky would come sliding down and take me to meet the folk of the faraway tree.
The walk was pretty smooth, it wasnt as laborious as the uphill climb to the estate. The slight drizzle and the cool breeze just added the final touch and the magic was complete. Umesh regaled us with stories about how guests had come across leopards and barking deers on the ridge. I asked him if we came across a leopard then how would we save ourselves. He just smiled and said, "the leopards are harmless, they are extremely scared of human beings. It is the bear that one should watch out for. If you see one run for your life." The Himalayan bears, though, don't come down to lower altitudes anymore and have retreated to higher reaches. As we went ahead we came across a temple of the devi. the walk to the mandir was brilliant, we saw a vibrant family of ladybirds all huddled up together, giant spiders going about their day's work, a barking deer howling in the vicinity. But the best part was the sighting of this beautiful butterfly which seemed to be posing for us. As we would change camera angles, it would change its position too in order to give us the best glimpse. I have never seen something so beautiful or magnificent. It is at times when the power of nature dawns on you....the world is teeming with such exquisite beauty and we haven't even seen half of it. After a visit to the temple we headed downhill to Steve's house where we were greeted with his six bounding dogs. Muchhi, Kali, Bhontu, Lalu, Dhanno and Jilli- each inimitable in its own way. Steve is a store house of energy and life. There is not one person in the Kumaon region who doesnt know him. He would head all the way to Bhimtal because he likes the post office there and would want to post the letter only in that particular place. He is quite a sight, riding on  his bike, interacting with the locals about their daily routines and welfare.
It isnt everyday that you come across a person like him! The next day it was time to go and the journey back to the base camp didnt seem that laborious to me (the  fact that it was downhill helped :) ) Ok not funny at all...but I strongly recommend Jilling to whosoever wants to be surrounded by nature and enjoy the silence (Which seems to be a much endangered commodity these days)

More than just momos

During my IIMC days, visits to the monastery next to IIFT were regular weekly rituals. Chow chow, steaming hot dumplings and soupy noodles would be our regular fare. Tibetan cuisine for us Delhiites began and ended with thukpa and momos.That's why a visit to the Tibetan market at Mcleodganj was a revelation. A breezy summer visit to this bustling hilly hamlet was a culinary delight. One came face to face with a mini Tibet as shopkeepers and vendors urged you to sample their wares. Ornate prayer wheels, vibrant thangkas and similar artefacts gleamed back at us; Tibetan refugees had laid their hearts bare with the precious treasures that they had managed to carry with them while making their way to India. They were now left with no choice but to part with those fine pieces in a bid to make two ends meet. My heart went out as we purchased a prayer wheel from one such vendor, knowing that we were taking not just an artefact but a part of him away. With our bags bustling with goodies,we marched on to sample the culinary wonders of the aptly titled `Little Lhasa'. I had heard of a couple of places run by Italians that served excellent pastas and pizzas. However, we came across none, or maybe we didn't look hard enough. What we did come across were cosy little eateries sandwiched between shops, butsling to the seams with foreign tourists. Tibet Kitchen was one such place. Located on the main market street, close to Hotel Tibet, the eatery serves one of the best Tibetan fares in Mcleodganj. The food is awesome and the helpings are gargantuan. Used to the paltry little servings of Delhi restaurants, we rattled off one dish after another, when the food finally arrived it was fit to serve an army. Try the thukpas and the thenthuk (or soup made with noodles and vegetables). (and now I know that the very famous Kabeer Sharma had his first Chow Chow there....yipppeeeeeee :) ...tht should be reason enough to visit the place ). Yet another nice place is Kailash Hotel which is one of the few restaurants here that has a bar. Crying babies, annoyed daughters-in-law, over-enthusiastic tourists and hassled shop owners all raise quite a din in this place. However, the food more than makes up for the noise. You must must try the Tibetan thali here, which contains two veggie dishes, a velvety curry of potato, pork and glass noodles, fermented bread and rice. The eatery also serves chinese and thai food, but it's wiser to stick to the Tibetan fare.On the way to Mcleodganj lies the Norbulingka institute where the traditional crafts of wood crafting, sclupting and thangka making are taught. The summer palace of Dalai Lama is also located here. If you wish for some calm and quiet then this is the place for you. Head to the Norbulingka Cafe for some veggie fare and home baked cakes. Opt for the Shogo Tang (roasted potato soup) or the Tibetan mushroom barley soup.The best part about Tibetan cuisine is that fresh herbs, local veggies and meats come together in one wholesome dish. The cooking process is not tedious and the flavours are not killed by overcooking the veggies. The rich aromas of pok choy, basil and coriander can be found in almost every dish, while pork and beef are the common meats that are used.One can't leave Mcleodganj without visiting the quaint little cafes lining up the main market street. Overlooking the snow clad dhauladhars, these cafes offer fresh bakes, steaming hot cuppas along with a wi-fi connection. There is one which doubles up as an art gallery for contemporary Tibetan artists which serves great tuna melt and cappucino. Or go to Coffee Talk where you name a fruit and they make a lassi out of it! Mcleodganj is one place where the words `regular' and `usual' don't hold. Everything about this tiny hill station is refreshing and inventive. No where else will you find such an eclectic mix of people- the Israeli tourists on their bullets, the Europeans vistors busy with their laptops as they soak in the mountain breeze and the local Tibetan residents who just light up the place with their uninhibited laughter and scintillating conversation. Surprisingly (and thankfully) you don't get the regular touristy crowd here, maybe because there isn't much touristy to do, there are no specific itineraries to be followed here. To experience Mcleodganj, you just need to let yourself loose here, wander through the place and let its magic seep into your skin.ThenthukThenthuk ( Tibetan Noodle Soup ) from the web site http://www.tanc.org/new_food/thenthuk.html"Thenthuk" ten-took (n) : A typical Tibetan noodle soup that keeps the nomads warm during those long Tibetan winters. You can make it either with vegetables or meat. In Tibetan "then" means pull and "thuk" means noodles.The Dough (IF YOU DON'T WISH TO GO THROUGH THE PROCESS OF MAKING THE DOUGH THEN PURCHASE SOME FLAT NOODLES FROM THE SUPERMARKET. SIMPLY MAKE THE BROTH AND PUT THE NOODLES IN IT)The dough is very important for this noodle soup. It needs to sit for fifteen or twenty minutes so that it can become flexible and easy to pull.1. If you want to make "Thenthuk" for two people, put two heaping handfuls of all-purpose flour in a pot and add about half a cup of water.2. Mix the flour and water very well by hand and keep adding water until you can make a smooth ball of dough.3. Then knead the dough very well until the dough is flexible. You want it thick enough that it will stretch when pulled.4. Separate the dough into pieces about half as big as big as your fist, and roll the dough between your hands. Make the shape like bananas, or wedges.5. Then put oil on your hand and roll the pieces between your hands again so they won't stick together. Put the wedges in a plastic bag or in a pot and put a lid to cover the dough so it doesn't dry out.THE BROTH1. Chop half an onion, a small piece of ginger, a clove of garlic, and one small tomato.2. If you want to use meat, cut 1/4 or half pound of any kind of meat into thin bite-size slices (pork/ lamb)3. Fry everything in two tablespoons of oil for three or four minutes, or until the meat is cooked well.4. Add a pinch of chicken vegetable bouillon stock , a dash of salt, and few shakes of soy sauce.5. Add about five cups of water to the pot. At this time, you can add one potato. Just slice it thinly and put it in the pot.6. While you are cooking, chop 1/4 of a bunch of cilantro, two green onions, and 1/4 bunch of spinach.The Throw-downWhen the broth starts to boil, you can add the dough. Take a wedge of dough and roll it between your hands so it gets a little longer. Flatten it with your fingers. Then pull the dough off in little flat pieces as long as your thumb and throw them in the pot. See how fast you can pull off the noodlesWhen all the noodles are in the pot, cook it for an additional three or four minutes. After that, you can put in the cilantro and spinach. They don't need to cook, really, so you can serve the soup immediately. Before you serve the "Thenthuk" make sure that the taste is right for you. Enjoy your food and sweat because it really makes you warm!Cilantro, green onions, and the doughThe soup just about ready to eat, noodles have risen to the top.

we are accountable!

I was just going through my last post when I happened to see the date. Little did I know that the very day when I was penning down my silly little auto tales, the evening of Nov 26 had something so sinister in store for India. Over the past weeks, I have read scores and scores of write ups airing opinions of one and all. I have gone through a mix of emotions from fear to disgust to anger.....there have been nights I havent been able to sleep and when I have, my sleep has been infested with nightmares of terrorist attacks, dust, grime and blood. Everyone around has been expressing shock about how a bunch of people entered our country and held us hostage on our very soil.
We have been blaming politicians, bureaucrats ...everyone we can lay our hands on for the attack- why was there an intelligence failure, why are our politicians not vigilant enough, why are they not accountable...why why why? But you know there is a saying that when you point a finger at someone, four fingers point back at you. Though there is no way that the administration or the system in this country can be excused but neither can we. I have been at fault here and so have thousands of people. We go to cinema halls and crib- "why do they have to frisk us, does my face say that I am a criminal or what". "Why dont they let us water bottles inside...all they want to do is make more money off us?" And tomm when something happens, we are the first to blame...."they should have had better security". When a guard at a mall searches our car with a broken mirror, do we get down and take him to task..do we report to the mall authorities and ask them to pull up their socks.
There is simply no consideration for another person's life or belongings. People on the road are almost out to get each other.....they just need to get ahead ..it doesnt matter if the other person is hurt or his vehicle is damaged. All we think about is us and our time and our comfort. We stand at a billing line in a grocery store....we just dont wish to follow the rules...after all our time is more precious than others. While at work, we try to get the easier way out.....pile work on others....why not spend more time judging others than concentrating on how better we can do. I don't wish to sound holier than thou..after all I am just as much as fault here. But, if each of us went about doing our own work properly...thinking a little less about ME and a little more about US.....if we were more vigilant and more proactive....I just wonder if things will not be different. ...If we could be a little more considerate...a little more efficient in our own space in our own way. If we could participate a lot more in our resident welfare association meetings.....block intitiatives....we can make a difference. Before changing the world...lets change ourselves first.

the amusing auto rides

I am back to my favourite topic- auto rides in Delhi! Can't help it since that is my sole means of transportation in the city. I feel I can fill reams after reams of sheets with my experiences. My friends are of the firm opinion that it is just me who has the good fortune or misfortune (you can take your pick after going thru these accounts) of meeting such colourful autorickshaw drivers.
For instance, take day before yesterday. I had just finished an assignment in Safdarjung and was starving to death. All I wanted to do was reach the cosy recesses of my house in peace. After some six drivers having scurried away the moment I uttered the word jamuna paar, this one guy agreed to ferry me to East Delhi. Little was I to know that my dreams of a peaceful 40 minute journey were to go up in smoke in a matter of seconds. Deciding to test my knowledge of the city, he kept quizzing me about the names of roads and locations of famous landmarks. Not happy with just that, he started telling me of how some foreign ladies had made him cross the length and breadth of Connaught Place some ten times, when their destination was tucked away in the bylanes of Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg. And how our heroic all knowing auto rickshaw driver used his grey cells and found out the place without much help (mind you...he decided to exercise his grey cells after 2 hours of roaming abt aimlessly...bt thats just a small nuance). Just when I thought he would keep his heroic deeds to himself, he started telling me how much he hated the trade fair, which he had visited once in high school..and by the looks of it that must have been eons ago! Needless to say that I managed to reach home in one place, but my brain didn't. By that time, it had slowly disintegrated to a fine gooey pulp.
Or another time, when this one auto guy decided to test what happens if your brakes fail. That's great but why test it on me. As he wove his way in between trucks and buses and raced ahead of cars, I felt like asking him if he was chasing an invisible enemy. With a prayer on my lips, I hung on to dear life. Thankfully god answered and I managed to live the day to tell this tale. Oh and of course we got to know what happens when you don't apply brakes, the traffic gods swoop down on you and give you a big slip of paper with challan imprinted in bold.
And this I am sure must have happened to a whole lot of you- when you would tell the auto drivers to take a particular route and they would use their own imagination and take you all over town. Its ok if it happens once, its a little infuriating when it happens thrice but it can fill you with murderous rage if it happens all the time! Well, that's what seems to happen with me...not one auto rickshaw driver follows the route that I suggest...is it just my face which has moron wriiten all over it..or what is it people...pls pls tell
Oh and you must see the camaraderie between two auto drivers to believe it. To carry on a conversation that began at a red light, they are willing to take wrong turns, go below the speed limit (till it feels it would be better if I walked home) and stop traffic irrespective of the scores of vehicles honking at the back.
But you get to experience all this only if you get an auto. Somehow it seems that whichever place I wish to go to, the auto walahs wish to go in the opposite direction. I have walked kilometres waiting for a ride...but all I heard were loud NOs and some very innovative excuses. For the best excuses ever, please head to the auto stand in Mayur Vihar Phase I, just near the bus stand.
Once the conversation went like this:
Me: "bhaiiya auto khaali hai"
Group of auto drivers: "nahi"
Me (being a little bolder than usual): "kyun...saare auto tho khaali pade hain"
A middle aged auto driver: "humne daru pi hui hai...ab bolo..jaoge kya"
I could just blubber out a few inconsequential nothings due to the rage that was bubbling inside.
Another time, the daru had been substituted by tea, but the excuse essentially remained the same.
Another place that auto walahs decide to exercise their nakhras is ITO. It seems their heads are programmed only to nod out a negative. One day I just couldn't take it anymore and blurted out "aap log ek kaam kyun nahi karte..buses ki tarah auto pe bhi route list laga dijiye..ki app log is is jagah hi jaayenge aur is is jagah nahi jaayenge". The man looked at me as if I was delirious..gave me a pitiful smile and zoomed away.
These are just few of the zillion experiences that I have had with autos. Since for me this is a daily thing...I can promise you many more such tales (Even if you are already pakaoed of them..blaaa)

quite a ride!

Usually on my way back I see sights which amuse me, some which make me sad, but yesterday I came across something that made me livid! If you go down the Pragati Maidan road, you will come across a red light. If you take a left from there you will reach ITO and a right turn will lead you to East Delhi (that useless piece of info was just to help you establish the location). Everyday, I see a group of school boys gathered at the junction creating quite a ruckus. The boisterous lot have no qualms in passing lewd remarks at passers by or passing through vehicles trying to intimidate auto and car passengers. Since it is quite a long red light, I get the full blast of their hooliganism. Yesterday, however, they crossed all limits. A DTC bus was patiently biding its time when these youngsters decided to have some fun. One by one they leapt on to the back of the bus, balancing themselves precariously. When a couple of auto rickshaw drivers tried to dissuade them from doing so, they started throwing things at the vehicles. With loud noises, wolf whistles and lewd songs on their lips, they continued to maintain their position at the derriere of the bus. The feeling of smugness was quite evident on their faces...the fact that they considered themselves heroes could be seen in their haughty demeanour. Surprisingly, the bus driver and conductor did nothing to make these boys get down. In fact they looked on encouragingly. Since this light is a few metres ahead of the Trade Fair venue where the police presence is quite high, one would have expected that someone would come and chastise the boys..but nothing happened. If any of the boys would have lost balance and fallen off the bus, it is ghastly to just imagine what the consequences would have been. Even now as I am puttin gthe post up, a colleague came up and laughed out....according to him I was behaving like a perfect foreign tourist who has never seen the state of Delhi traffic and is aghast with surprise. But isn' this attitude itself giving encouragement to such behaviour. I know some people who read this may feel that I am acting like a perfect grandmother..but I dont care! WHo is to educate people abt the fine line between daredevilry and foolishness. Tomm if one of these boys loses his life in such acts of wild stupidity, what could have been a fine life ahead will be lost.....It may sound corny...bt this one line from Sarkar keeps coming to my mind "Door ke fayde ke liye paas ka nuskaan nahi sochna chahiye" (or sthing like that). Just felt really irritated by this incident and thought that the least I could do was vent out my feelings. Do put in your comments....and let me know what you think abt this...

of camping out, hot rum and canine encounters in Sangla

For all you guys who have been bitten by the travel bug and wish to get away from the mad mad rush of the city, there is no place better to go to than Sangla. The valley is nestled amidst majestic snow clad mountains with the Baspa river winding its way through the lush green terrain.
It's not possible to reach Sangla in a day, if you are travelling from Delhi. It is advisable to halt in Simla and then head off to Sangla the next day at the crack of dawn. Simla, with its lively mall road and bustling hotels, provided a much needed pit stop to us exhausted travelers. Our hotel was located ahead of the mall road and we had many a prying monkeys drop down from the tree top to have a look at our lunch spread. The first time I saw inquisitive eyes staring back at me as I sipped on my soup, I nearly choked with fright. The mall road offered its usual fare of excitement with eateries and shops lining up on either sides. Having to elbow and push our way through the maddening crowd was a different story altogether. After the numerous photo sessions in and around the church, visits to the fabulous bakeries and the wonderment at the Gaiety Theatre which seems to be forever under renovation, we decided it was time to cool our heels.
We made our way to Combermere, a really fab hotel with great food and a lovely terrace restaurant. And I must say, if you want to take a detour from the regular fruit based cocktails and have the classic versions, then this is the place to be. Simple, robust and minus the fruity frills, these cocktails will surely lift your spirits. After a heart repast, we took off on a long walk to find our taxi which would take us back to our hotel. The next day, just as the sun rays were beginning to warm up the town, we started our journey towards Sangla. It is amazing how waking up early is such a task in the city whereas when you have a destination to look forward to, it just becomes part of the excitement.
The winding mountain road took us through the fruit terrain of Himachal, from Simla to Chail and Naldehra. It was amazing to see how the varying hues and textures of the mountains as we moved on. Soon, Sutlej greeted us with its cheerful gurgling and it was a delight to have it give us company throughout the way. To get a better view of this majestic river, we made a halt at a bridge. Chicken that I am, I refused to move an inch on the bridge, but soon the spirit of adventure got the better of me, and there I was strutting up and down the fragile bridge with glee (although with prayer on my lips....what if the bridge had collapsed under my humongous weight..or the flash floods would have made the river surge in a matter of seconds..or if I had lost balance...or if the tiny gust of wind would have blown me over..one has to think of these things before stepping onto a bridge..what do u know!) The best part of the journey started when we crossed Rampur. Never will I ever forget this site. As we crossed a bend of the road, the most breathtaking sight presented itself to me. Regal snow clad mountains peeping out from behind a deep rocky gorge- the pure white of the snow serving as a beautiful contrast to the blue flowers of the trees and the earthen beauty of the gorge. There is nothing that had prepared me for this beauty and it just left me speechless.
As we crossed Karcham where the Karcham Sutlej project is on in full swing, we did what we always do- we lost the way. We took a wrong turn and found ourselves on a rocky, untraversible (is there a word like this...well u got the point rt?) road and our gut instinct told us we were on the wrong path (a jeep full of locals also substantiated the point later..but it was our instinct which told us first! blaaa) With the directions firmly in place, we took the first step into Sangla Valley. The Kinner Kailash range rose in front of us and lush green meadows stood below us. Beautiful apple blossoms dotted the valley here and there and the river gleamed under diffused sunlight. Suddenly pleasant breeze gave way to cool winds as we made our way into the lap of nature. The best part about Sangla is that it hasn't been touched by much commercialisation. Luxury camps and not hotels and resorts are the available accomodation here..and boy aren't we glad of that!
We made our way to Banjara camps which was set in the heart of an apple orchard on the banks of the Baspa river. It felt like you could just put your hand out and touch the Kinner Kailash range. Needless to say, Sumu got extremely busy with the camera.....but soon he gave it a rest to just soak in the ethereal beauty of the place. I was in a frenzy of another kind. My mobile didnt have any network and I couldnt inform my parents that I had reached. I could just imagine my mom going frantic with worry, picturing every sordid thing that could have happened to us. But soon, a call from them to the camp manager put everything to rest and the no network situation actually appealed to me. This was exactly what I wanted- away from the madding crowd, away from office worries, daily anxieties and regular routine. Just communing with nature.
If you choose to take that trip to Sangla, then I would strongly recommend a stay at Banjara Camps. A handful of luxury tents offer you the experience of the beautiful outdoors without having to compromise on comforts. A warm bed welcomes you inside and there is also an LPG heated bathroom attached to every tent. A small sit out allows you to enjoy the grand locale in your own personal way. There is cute little dining area which is well equipped with games and a small library to cater to your recreational needs. And the food is just fantabulous...simple well cooked fare that is much more appealing than any royal repast. The first day we just let Sangla get under our skins. After a brief rest, it was time to gather around for a bonfire. And boy, were the evenings cold? Brilliant that I am, I had only packed two sets of woollens for myself...after all how cold could any place be in April. And was I proved wrong? After a scrumptious barbeque and a hearty meal, we headed back to our tents. I was so pleasantly surprised to find hot water bottles and a warm bed waiting for me. The considerate and hospitable touch of the camp personnel was visible all across our tent. Though chilling winds blew across the camp all night, the water bottles kept me warm and comfy.
The next day we decided to take a trip down to the last village on the Indo-Tibet border- Chitkul. The way to Chitkul is truly picture perfect. With quaint houses interspersed with a cluster of apple blossoms lining the way, the trip was truly a delight. We took small halts by tiny streams that flowed down an area that had been ravaged by flash floods in the past. As we neared Chitkul, the road opened up to the valley and the snow crested peaks seemed almost at an arm's distance. The small hamlet of Chitkul comprises of a few houses and shops. One can trek down to the last army post on the border. We roughed it out on a rocky terrain that overlook the river, met a couple of tourists and lot of animal life on the way. The weirdest encounter was with this unique family of three sheep and a cow, with the latter having a sort of an identity crisis- in its head it was as much a sheep as the one standing next to it..didnt I just hear a meeeeehheeehh from it instead of the expected moooooo.
After having passed several grassy knolls and streams on the way, we sat down to a lunch of sandwiches and rhododenron juice under a tree. But little were we to know that we would be so rudely interrupted. A couple of army officials came down to us and asked us so many questions that I almost began to feel I was an illegal trespasser on this land. After having convinced them of our motive and identitywe made a hurried trip back to the village. Needless to say, by this time I had convinced myself that if I didnt hurry back, i would be thrown into the gallows by the army and I would never see my family again. And hence, a route that had taken us some 40 minutes to traverse, took us only 20 minutes to cover on the way back. And no, we werent thrown into a dingy kalkothri or anything so grim....but my mood surely had gone sour for the day. I just didnt understand why harmless tourists were taken to task and that also so rudely. My mood cheered up a but when I made my way to the last PCO on the Indo-Tibet border. And for some reason, owners of all shops were constantly weaving and sewing something or the other. After having assured parents of our wellbeing we made our way back to the camp. But soon Sumu was struck with a brilliant idea. And this was strictly for medicinal purposes..he claims even now. Why not warm ourselves with a dose of dark rum mixed with warm water- only to drive away the cold. So on we drove to Sangla town and scoured for a wine shop. Luck was with us and Sumu soon got us the provisions. Feeling extremely smug with ourselves we made our way back to the camp. And needless to say the rum worked wonders. The cackling of wood at the bonfire, the smoky smell of tikkas and a glassfull of hot rum...it just couldnt get better than that. And of course, giving us company at the bonfire was this huge Gujarati family. Some of the elders put us to shame when they told us stories about how at the age of 70 and 71 they had taken a trek to Mansarovar and actually completed the parikrama- a feat which younger and fitter people have not been able to accomplish.
The next day, we were joined by Captain Sud who so ably manages the camp. He regaled us with stories of the various treks that he has taken across the Himalayas. We decided to experience the wild outdoors by going for a long trek to Rakcham. We crossed a faint bridge to reach Batseri village which was located just across the camp. The local devta temple and a really ancient gompa were some of the architectural delights that we saw there. Also unique was this huge 108 year old lock that a lady still used to secure her house. As we moved on from the village, we were joined by this handsome looking dog. It appeared out of nowhere and kept us company throughout the trek. If we would lag behind, it would go ahead and wait for us...if I had trouble climbing a rock, it would stand there as if egging me to go on...when we were eating lunch by a stream, not only did it not take a single morsel from us but also seated itself in the other direction so as to not intrude on the meal. I have never seen a more well behaved dog ever in my life! The trek to Rakcham unfolded a different terrain in front of us after every ten minutes. Grassy meadows, huge rocks, bhoj patra and leh berry trees, small glaciers and icy cold streams- all made an appearance on the walk. I thoroughly enjoyed the view....of course from whatever time I got from panting and puffing from the strain of walking uphill. This is not an easy walk...at least not for people who are unfit like me. One must keep halting and taking deep breaths to conserve energy. But at the end of it, I felt like I had accomplish a grand feat and mentally made a note to join a gym as soon as I hit the plains ( a resolution which is yet to materialise...but isnt it the thought that counts).
This last day at Banjara was the hardest..it was so hard to know that the next day we would be heading back to our normal routine city life...that we would be bidding goodbye to these majestic mountains and the tranquil wonder of nature. But as they say, every good thing must come to an end. So we bundled ourselves off to Delhi the next day..already thinking of our next vacation :)
PS: FYI- Here is the site of Banjara Camps....http://banjaracamps.com/
Reaching Sangla from Shimla:
You would have to take the road route from Shimla to reach Sangla. From Shimla, Sangla is an 8 hr drive (for first time drivers this time may be around 10 hrs). From Chail/Shimla to Karcham (the turnoff point on NH 22) is 221/209kms. Please take a right turn at Karcham. And at around 18 kms down the road, you will hit Sangla.