Ctrl C , Ctrl V

# How do you extract iron from Hema Malini?
Get her drunk. Then she'll get tight. Now u have hema-tite. You can extract iron from that.

# son: mom, what's there to eat?
mom: hum eat ka jawaab pathhar se denge

# Two paint tankers, one carrying red paint, and one carrying purple paint, collide. The sailors were marooned.

# Two atoms are walking along. Suddenly one says "oh no! I've lost an electron!"
"Really? You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm positive!"

# Did you hear about the dyslexic who walks into a bra?

# What's the difference between ignorance and apathy?
I don't know and I don't care.

# What's the difference between regular garlic and roasted garlic?
A gypsy once told me it was the roasting, but you shouldn't trust the gypsies

#
Deep within a forest a little turtle began to climb a tree. After hours of effort he reached the top, leaped into the air waving his front legs, and crashed to the ground. After recovering, he slowly climbed the tree again, jumped, and fell to the ground. The turtle tried again and again while a pair of birds sitting on a branch watched his sad efforts. Finally, the female bird turned to her mate. "Dear," she chirped, "I think it's time to tell him he's adopted."

# A Times Roman walk into a bar
The barman says, "Oi- get out! We don't want your type in here"

# Two muffins were sitting on a counter. One looks to the other and says "How've you been today?" The other screams "AH! A TALKING MUFFIN!"

# How do you tell a boy chromosome from a girl chromosome?
You pull down its genes.

# A man goes to a party and sees a man with a banana in his ear. He goes up to him ad says "Excuse me, did you know you have a banana in your ear?"
"Pardon?"
"I said did you know you have a banana in your ear?"
"Sorry?"
"You have a banana in your ear."
"What?"
"YOU...HAVE...BANANA....IN.....YOUR.....EAR"
The other man replies "I'm sorry, I can't hear you, I've got a banana in my ear!"

# Attorney: Were you present when your picture was taken?
Witness: Would you repeat the question?

# Descartes walks into a bar and orders a tequila sunrise. The bartender looks at him for a moment and says "Wouldn't you like something a bit more manly?" Descartes says "I think not!" and disappears.

# A waiter asks a man, “May I take your order, sir?”
“Yes,” the man replies. “I’m just wondering, exactly how do you prepare your chickens?”
“Nothing special, sir. We just tell them straight out that they’re going to die.”

# Three people of different nationalities walk into the bar. Two of them say something smart, and the third one makes a mockery of his fellow countrymen by acting dumb.

# So a stripper walks into a Pole:
"Sorry ma'am."
"What? A pole can talk?!"

# A very confident James Bond walks into a bar and takes a seat next to a very attractive woman. He gives her a quick glance then casually looks at his watch for a moment. The woman notices this and asks, "Is your date running late?"
"No," he replies, "Q has just given me this state-of-the-art watch. I was just testing it."
The intrigued woman says, "A state-of-the-art watch? What's so special about it?"
Bond explains, "It uses Alpha waves to talk to me telepathically."
The lady says, "What's it telling you now?"
"Well, for a start it says you're not wearing any underwear..."
The woman giggles and replies, "Well it must be broken because I am wearing underwear!"
Bond smirks, taps his watch and says, "Bloody thing's an hour fast."

# A Pole walks into a bar

# A constant function and e^x are walking on Broadway. Then suddenly the constant function sees a differential operator approaching and runs away. So e^x follows him and asks why the hurry.
"Well, you see, there's this diff.operator coming this way, and when we meet, he'll differentiate me and nothing will be left of me!"
"Ah," says e^x, "he won't bother ME, I'm e to-the x!" and he walks on. Of course he meets the differential operator after a short distance.
e^x : "Hi, I'm e^x"
diff.op. : "Hi, I'm d/dy"

# Who is sodium?
Shahrukh Khan ("Main Hoon Na" )

on writing

“Writing is the most fun you can have by yourself.” - Terry Pratchett

i'm alone and i have time to kill. i want to write about something, anything. i'm just unable to decide on what. (should it be 'decide on what' or 'decide what on'? i need a wren and martin!) a lot of things have tempted themselves before me, for me to put them in writing. for example, i could write about what i did today, about someone, some movie, sites that i visit, tv shows that i like, my favorite songs, so on and so forth. or i could write some fiction. by the way, there's this story that has been ringing in my head for quite sometime now. i could put it in writing finally! but that would be too taxing and too deep for me to write about now. hmm. or i could keep typing about anything that pops up in my head till i get bored and tired! that should be exciting! but am i not doing that alreaedy? am i excited? i guess u tend to falter when presented with choices. i've always wondered whether having choices is better or worse than having no choice at all. do u realize that having only one choice is the same as having no choice at all? that's when 1 becomes equal to 0! man, i just posed a philosophical question and cracked it myself.

i wish real life would be as easy as typing something. imagine being able to tidy up ur room just like doing Ctrl + A and then Ctrl + J in word. i could write pretty neatly too, justifying the text left and right (it requires a lot of practice, let me tell ya!) it is not so easy when it comes to arranging ur wardrobe, and books and other stuff.

hmmm. so, the story i was thinking about. it is about a guy who, one day, discovers his father's diary. in the diary, his father has written a lot about a certain girl. this was probably before his father met his mom. so, he decides to set out on a journey to go to where the diary was set. the place, as he finds out, is a magical one, unlike any place he has ever been to, and unlike any place he ever thought would exist. as he spends time over there, he starts discovering a lot of things about his father. in the end of his stay, his entire perception of his father changes, and along with it, his person changes completely.

what else, what else? oh, how can i forget to write about the harbhajan-monkey-symonds controversy. now, that is weird. when harbhajan calls u monkey, u don't get offended, u laugh. it IS funny. also, by now, symonds must have used to all the monkey chants. jokes apart, all this hullabaloo coming from the australian cricketers, of all people, smacks of plain hypocrisy. i even had an idea of starting a google bombing meme so that a google search for 'monkey' would point to andrew symonds' wikipedia page! ((speaking of hypocrisy, where did i hear this term 'hypocrisy of democracy'. now where did i hear that. perhaps i'm predicting the title of a future arundhati roy essay, but it sure sounds like a cool phrase. make u sound intelligible and all.))

time to wrap up for now. i have a lot of things in the pipeline (things that i want to do, but just too lazy to) - learn origami, interview some famous person of yore who has now disappeared into oblivion, go on a traveling trip with a bunch of complete strangers, shoot a small movie of my own. if i don't do them, at least i could write about them!

Getting ready

No Smoking

(This post contains spoilers - a lot of them. Not that it should matter when you decide to watch the movie!)

"To be is to do"--Socrates.

"To do is to be"--Plato.

"Do be do be do"--Frank Sinatra

thus the movie began. And it had me enthralled from then and there! Two people had recommended it, which is my usual criterion for watching a movie. I was warned of the movie being a ‘mind-warp’ and was expecting a ‘Lost Highway’-ish style of David Lynch and so it turned out to be. It has every element to transform it into the next cult classic coming from Bollywood. The movie did make me go philosophical with the question – what the fuck?!! And so I did what I usually do after watching such movies – search the web for the answer(s) to my question.

The web, however, proved to be a disappointment. There were lesser posts about the movie per se than the Anurag Kashyap love hate war which included, among others, Anurag himself and some prominent critics in Bollywood. Khalid Mohammed’s review (??), in particular, was pure spite and entirely a tirade against the director, with little being said about the movie itself.

As the director himself admits, the movie is about arrogance. It depicts a clash between the arrogance of a narcissist on one hand and the arrogance of a society on the other. I would take it a step further and say that the movie underlines the arrogance of the director himself. It is by a director who doesn’t want to conform to rules, someone who loves his own work like a child, doesn’t care to churn out a run-of-the-mill masaaledaar Om Shanti Om. If not for anything else, Anurag needs to be applauded for that.

After watching it, the movie does fill you with questions. It seems to be replete with visual metaphors. What does ‘Hitler ki aulaad’ signify? The carpets shop? The eunuch giving him the coins? His two cut fingers? His wife and secretary looking the same? The bath-tub? Siberia?

There will be, as is with such movies, multiple answers and interpretations and not a single unified theory that can explain everything. Trying to understand the movie becomes as interesting as trying to decipher an interesting dream. However, we are not content by just dismissing it as just another dream, but are intent on trying to find a meaning, to fit the missing pieces in the puzzle and to discover the layers of reality underneath.

My interpretation –

K is having nightmares and going through a traumatic experience as he is being forced to quit smoking, something he does passionately. He tries to cope with his freedom being snatched from him and it is all a harrowing experience for him. He has forced himself to imagine extreme consequences to make him quit smoking and they continually haunt him in his nightmares. He tries to escape and goes to his Siberian dreams but is not able to escape entirely as his dreams turn to nightmares. Unable to cope with reality he returns to his nightmares and digs into it in search of an answer.

His wife and his secretary, albeit the same person, (‘I’m your wife. I’m your secretary. Remember, tum nahi chahte the office mein kisi ko pata chale.’) depict different personas – one who is intent on making him stop smoking and thus, curb his freedom and the other who is not bothered by his smoking. But he is bent on seeing them as two different people. He sees it all as a conspiracy – the people who convinced him to quit smoking appear in his nightmares as members of a well-knit conspiracy.

His cut fingers signify his loss of freedom in another level. It shows how he is compelled to quit smoking. I further thought he could have actually lost his fingers and that could be the reason he is not able to smoke. But I’m not sure of this explanation myself.

His friend Abbas (who regained his fingers after referring K to the baba) and his doctor friend represent people who were forced to conform to societal norms, people who were forgiven their sins after ‘helping’ someone else. The movie in the end, shows the complete assimilation of K into the society when he, for want of redemption, tries to bring in another of his friend to follow his suit. At this point, the dividing line between retribution and redemption becomes blurry and curved – beyond recognition.

The baba is an epitome of the society, which in itself is much more arrogant than any arrogant person. The baba wants people to conform to his rules. His mistakes will be forgiven, he can’t be blamed. At the same time, he will be relentless when it comes to mistakes committed by individuals. If a person has committed a crime, a sin, he has to pay for it. The baba is unforgiving.

Hitler is one name for human arrogance and that’s why he repeatedly refers to the baba as Hitler ki aulaad (Baba: “Guru manta hun main usko”)

Siberia epitomizes his loss of freedom – the curfew and his inability to find cigarettes to smoke. It is a fear that he harbors constantly. Further, the bathtub in the snow connects his nightmares to reality. It is the place where he drops into ruminations and where his fears come alive as nightmares, and finally brings him back to reality.

P.S. Get the script of the movie here.

Sunday evening

Before

After

s or t?? ah! wht a dilemma!!

Evanston updates

• The place has taught me how to greet ‘Hi’ to one and all without any awkwardness. I’ve always felt sort of ill at ease when people greet me on roads, more so if I’m not too familiar with the person. Indeed, my most hated moment in flights is when a beautiful, well made-up stewardess greets me with an uncomfortable cheerfulness. I’m the sort of person who would look at the person from a distance and silently hope that he/she is looking down or away from me so that I can pretend I didn’t notice him/her either. Having spent some time over here has, however, done wonders to my greeting skills. Everyone does a “How are you doing?” to everyone and everyone replies with a “Fine. How about you?” It has been a revelation. I have mastered the art of greeting everyone. Now I only hope someone doesn’t snub me and my new-found talent with that cold, are-you-freakin’-mad look when I get home.
• More often than not, as I look left and right before crossing the road, a car comes and stops in front of me, waiting for me to cross the road. This, to say the least, is freaking embarrassing for me. I have never enjoyed such respect on any road I have crossed in my life, and it has come as a shock to me. I have even tried to politely decline their offer, indicating with my hand to make them pass first, but they are adamant. I can now finally extend my arms, and feel like a ‘king-of-the-road’.
• I’ve never seen snow before my trip here and had a fairly romantic notion about it. However, it has proved to be more of a nuisance than magnificence. Perhaps it is the cold I’m actually scared of, and I can fall in love with snow again soon enough.
• If I miss anything of the food over here, it is going to be Swiss Miss and the 'Suicide' wings from Buffalo Joe's. The Swiss Miss saved me from the cold i was suffering from and the Joe's wings have become an addiction. (I was surprised my manager had noticed that!) Otherwise, food has been pretty ordinary, in spite of the numerous restaurants that you can find in the small area.
  

The Bird People in China

(this review is posted simultaneously at reelsuave. thanks to the editor, john, for his effort. visit reelsuave to discover some extraordinary cinema.)

“And again I slept thousands of times, but I have never seen a dream of myself flying.”

It is one of those movies you are scared of writing about lest you might end up robbing the reader of the joy of discovering the movie by himself. I strongly suggest that you go ahead and watch the movie in case you haven’t, before reading this.

The movie doesn’t fit into any genre. It almost seems like a fantasy but it is so real in parts; it is humorous indeed with genuine laugh-out-loud moments, and yet takes a look at life that leaves the viewer thinking a long time after the movie is over. Above all, it is a movie about the triumph of human belief. Buoyed by touches of exquisite humor, fantasy, love, innocence, hope and magic, the movie ushers in a new wave of cinematic experience. And to think that the director is mostly known for his mastery in depicting exaggerated violence, horror and bizarre sexual perversions, as in movies like “Ichi the killer”, and in the segment “Box” in “Three.. Extremes”, it is indeed a treat from director Takashi Miike.

The movie is about a Japanese businessman and a yakuza who end up in a small village in the depths of Yun Nan province of China, untouched by human civilization. While the first part of the movie details the journey of the two, the second shows the transformation underwent by the two after they reach the magical village. And magical it is, as the director succeeds in depicting – seemingly impossible incidents, but filled with such belief and innocence that you cannot but believe it yourself.

The movie is accompanied by enchanting visuals and a haunting soundtrack that weaves in seamlessly into the fabric of the movie. It helps in enduring the pleasant, magical aura of the entire movie. The actors are genuine and don’t make a single mistake that would otherwise distract the enraptured viewer. Before one realizes, the transformation of the characters is already complete. The end of the movie leaves the viewer unmovable, and yet reeling under an unfathomable force, floating with feet firmly on ground!

Make this journey and you will have reached a place you have never been to before!

Cold

A clear moonlit sky
And still, my senses become
This warm winter night.

I crave for some sleep
The air stirs reluctantly
And your thoughts blind me.

While across the seas,
The snow falls incessantly
Do you feel the cold?

(Written on 26th January, 2005)


Fate

I drifted down the meandering river,
Unaware of the curves of time.
With the current ,my spirits heightened and fell;
I was too meek to swing my arms.

My voice of dissent got subdued even
When I hit the river bed.
Only the sanctity of the moment
Was what I desired and ached for.

A glimpse of the sea, lying flat and still
Made my aspirations pierce my mind .
It spawned a mortal fear of getting sucked
Into a whirlpool of queer fate.

For once ,I battled against the currents
Which had carried and cuddled me.
I was unaware of my body being
Dissolved in the acid water.

Reality fading, I made an attempt
To find the safety of a boat .
One – blurred ,almost beyond recognition ;
A desperate and feeble lunge....

A boisterous sea welcomed a new me ,
And my boat,my companion.
It was time for me t look up and sail
Beyond the horizons of fate.

Written on the 12th of October,2004


Illusion

A room,
Engulfed in absolute darkness ,
In absolute stillness.
A flicker lights up the room
For one undying moment.
And then - absolute nothingness.
The darkness starts filling me,
Making me feel nothing;
Almost.
Making me almost resign myself
To a fate of darkness.
A streak of light appears from nowhere
As I stand up-
Fate betrayed.
I reach out ,searching for the source
But it eludes me.
The streak dims and then brightens
But it stays,
Intriguing me, attracting me,
Overpowering me.
I grope in the darkness
Searching for the source,
But it eludes me.
I’m almost resigning myself
To a fate of darkness – again.
Then I discover a source of light-
Inside me.
But it’s not the one I’ve been searching for.
It’s the one that has
fended me from
the darkness around me.
It is so dimmed ,though.
Then ,
The room gets flooded with
Light
Killing the darkness,
Leaving nothing of it.
But I-
I’ve been blinded .
My eyes have betrayed me.
Now, I can only hope that it's all
An illusion.

written on 29th September ,2004

A day in Haiku

(In 3-5-3 ‘s and 5-7-5 ‘s)

(1)

Smoke, rising
Blends with the early
Morning fog

(2)

The sway of the swing
In the night’s moulded darkness

Silent, but the creak.

(3)

Rain, lashing
A leaf falls, dancing
In the wind

(4)

Dreams nestled
Inside another
In sound sleep

Movi(e)ng thoughts...

I wish I could frame myself in a movie – a movie that captures every moment of my life, every day. There are times when u believe u’ll get a better picture of a situation if u were in someone else’s shoes. Looking from a third (or second?) person’s perspective at me doing something will certainly give me more insight into the state of affairs. This solves a certain dilemma – when u need someone’s help and u are not sure who to talk to. U r not able to solve it urself and u don’t trust anyone enough to talk about it. What better way than to do it in ur own leisure, as if u were watching a movie, literally!

Perhaps a background score in tune with what I’m supposed to feel would be convenient. At least u won’t feel that crippling helplessness when u are (sometimes) not aware of how u r supposed to feel. That small cue could potentially save u from many an discomfited situation.

Speaking of background score, I had this thought. Usually, movies treat the background score to accentuate the mood of the movie. Why not do something opposite? I would love to see how viewers react. Will it go unnoticed? What effect will it have on the movie as a whole? Will it reduce the effect of the movie and ‘average’ out the mood of the movie? Or will it make the movie crappier than ever?!!

And I'm ;aughing as ever!!

...and back!

You might want to read To Vizapur before reading this post.

The place is a beauty - very much untouched by civilization (apart from the ruins of the fort itself). The undulations of grass-covered land offer a vision of tiny hillocks waiting to be explored. There are small ponds of fresh water. For the perusal of the army, we concur. The flag was now in our reach and it now looked certainly insignificant and dull, so much as it had looked magnificent and majestic from down below.

And suddenly, my mind is gripped by thoughts amorous. Quiet, away from civilization, heaven above, the entire world below you - just short of becoming one with nature. The king and his queen. Perhaps, in the midst of a full-fledged war? Sighting heaven is one thing, having it all for yourself is another.

Somehow, the place manages to give me a sense of security and fear at the same time. The place is empty but for a score of cows, buffaloes and bulls grazing all over the place. They seem scared of us and run hither and thither on sighting us. One thought bogging our mind is: how the hell did they manage to come over here? Surely, there must be a way up here, and an easy one at that!

We roam around the place a bit but are unable to find a proper way down other than the one where we came from. Finally, Jaat convinces us that that’s the best way to return, which we do.

The night is falling at a fast pace, as we try to cope with it. Anywhere the path clears up a little, we step up our pace. The path which had proved so convenient in the light now suddenly becomes treacherous. Rocks turn up from nowhere and step in our way, slowing us down. We finally reach the place where we had left the village, but it is quite dark by then.

We see a person in the distance. Human number 3. He offers to lead us down to the Bhaje Gaon, as we heave a collective sigh of relief.

He leads us for quite a distance, explaining us why we should come earlier and not tread on this part the land when it’s dark. We could have been glad he couldn’t see our faces then. He suddenly stops in his tracks and asks for the fees of his service. 100 bucks?? We’ll give you 30 or 40. After a tussle of bargaining, he agrees at 50 bucks. Or so it seems at the moment.

He takes us a little further ahead. He tells us the path from there is very obvious and we should find no trouble in finding the way on our own. We thank him profusely and depart. It’s only after a minute’s walk that we realize we have been cheated. He had taken 50 bucks to lead us to ground and we are as distant from the ground as ever, and the guy is gone!

Our ego crumbling on having treated thus, we have to find the path on our own. By now, it’s completely dark. With no moonlight and no torch of our own, we are finding it difficult to see ahead of 5 meters.

We climb down carefully. With light absent and the slope getting steeper, we have to slither down the slope. We first try to find a footing by feeling with our feet, at the same time holding on to grass, or some plant so that we don’t lose grip, and then take the next step. Our arses are dragged along, and of some they get bruised! The parts where we have to cross the waterfalls prove a bit tricky; the rocks being slippery and it being tough to find a foothold.

After a few minutes of climbing down we realize we can’t proceed further as it is too steep. Actually, it is just too dark to fathom the steepness, and we don’t want to take our chances. One bad step and we could be heading straight to the bottom of the hill.

We debate on how proceed from there. Do we try to find a way, or do we go up there to the village, or do we just spend the night somewhere we find a clearing. By now the last option doesn’t seem so extravagant, and we discuss thoroughly the pros and cons of each one of them.

The main things we took into consideration: a. our safety, b. our energy (we were quite tired by now) c. our hunger (we didn’t have any food, apart from the packet of biscuits left). We decide to try find a way for a little more time, as the village is already quite behind us and crashing on the grass, we’ll use as a last option.

We continue our trials for another two times, making the treacherous climb down. But we are led to disappointment as either bush blocks our way or a steep fall cuts our way. Each time we have to climb up again as it is impossible to spend too much time there.

We have now run out of energy, patience – in fact anything that could keep us going. Sardar comes up with the idea: we go to the village, wake someone up, and ask him to lead us to Bhaje Gaon. He sounds extremely determined and says we’ll definitely reach Pune tonight for sure. Thus, with a renewed zeal we start climbing up.

A 5 minute climb later, Jaat gets the idea of the century - one last try. We should now try moving to the right a bit, as we have been moving to the left a lot until now. Who knows, a path will spring out of nowhere, say hello to us and take us on its back safely down there!

We hardly climb down for another 5 minutes when we realize the futility of our attempt. Beaten by exhaustion, hunger and frustration we finally decide to spend the night there.

We find the perfect place for that. It is a small clearing on the slope – around 10m by 10m, and surrounded by bushes. We can see Bhaje at a distance and the expressway at a further distance. The lights from the distant houses, of fireflies and of a lone person walking with a torch all seem to blend together.

We lie down out of sheer exhaustion. It’s 9:30 pm. When does the sun come out here? No later than 5 30, or 6. That makes it no less than 8 hours! We should sleep.

10 minutes later, Sardar speaks up, as if woken up from a long slumber. “Arre, it is only 9 40!”

It’s going to be a long night, I tell myself. Jaat and sardar are engaged in conversation as I keep quiet and let my mind wander.

Jaat and I cover ourselves in a windcheater that sardar had brought. I feel a terrible need to relieve myself, but dread getting out of the windcheater. Overcome by need, I finally get out and do the needful at a distance. I’m already shivering profusely. I can’t stop myself from shivering as I get under the windcheater.

I fold myself up and start taking long breaths. I realize it’s not entirely due to cold I’m shivering. But of what, I’m unable to figure out.

All of a sudden, ISI lets out a scream. An insect had bitten him and he’s scared if it might be some poisonous snake. I’m too tired to be excited and I thought he was making a fuss out of nothing. I just lay with my eyes closed. After sometimes, the excitement dies down and ISI too is back to normal.

I drift off to sleep in patches. But every now and then I’m jerked awake by the biting cold, especially when touched by a whiff of wind. I change my posture in a futile attempt to make myself warmer.

It’s around 4 when we are woken up by a torch flashing all around us. Human number 4. He is searching for his lost buffalo. We somehow convince him to lead us to the bottom of the hill. He agrees and leads us down. But before long, he succumbs to his more serious needs and leaves us to go in search of his buffalo. We are still nowhere; Bhaje is as distant as ever.

We can’t go to sleep now. It is late anyway, and we should be able to witness the sunrise. We do a reality check, reflecting on our adventure. Our clothes bear the mark of all the slithering and slipping around. Our Bai is gonna have a hard time, I observe. Jaat and ISI have received bruises, while I have been fortunately spared of any. We are hungry as hell and make our food plans that we will set to motion once we reach down there.

The first sign of light and we head down. The way clears up in front of us, and it doesn’t seem so challenging now after what we had gone through a half dozen hours before. The moment we see the stair leading to the cave, we almost hear our own sigh of relief echoing.

To Vizapur

The Plan
We leave Pune around 10:00 am in the local train, reach Malawali in an hour, do some peaceful trekking, come back home before it is dark.

The Execution
We leave Pune at 1:30 pm, on bikes. Isi assures us we’ll reach there in half an hour. Half an hour stretches to an hour and another half an hour more, before we reach the place.

We lose no time in parking our bikes and head straight for the stairs (that ISI told us would lead to the fort). The stairs lead to some caves. We start having some serious doubts as to the existence of a path to the fort from here.

We start asking for directions. The guy points in the general direction to a mango tree and offers himself as a guide. “Guide?” we almost laugh. Not for this trip, buddy. We reach the mango tree in no time, but find no path leading from there. Giving a knowing look at each other, we decide to climb!

The climb is steep, but we are sure that in no time, we’ll find a path leading to the fort. We climb up, holding on to grass with our hands, lest we might slip. In patches, we climb up dried up streams of water that fooled us into believing them they were paths used by people. But alas! a real path is nowhere to be found.

A half an hour of climb later, we reach a grassy knoll. We heave a sigh of relief, but only momentarily as we realize we are lost. Isi decides to call up his friend of experience and asks for directions, which was a bit tricky considering we were in the middle of nowhere. His friend tells us to find a village of half a dozen houses and ask directions from there.

We decide to go ahead and find the village. A 10-minute-walk. No village. We find a house with a cow-shed nearby.

“Is this the village?”
“But he said there were around 5-6 houses.”
“No harm. We can ask for directions anyway.”

The resident of the house - an old fellow - points to a general direction towards the fort and offers himself as a guide. “What is this business with guides,” we wonder before heading off towards the fort.

We have almost forgotten about the village when I turn back on a whim and find the village behind us. We let ourselves feel a mixed emotion of mystery and a minor eruption of joy on discovering the place and decide to head straight over there.

The village is surrounded by hedges all around. “A possible sign of wild animals. They might be doing it to protect themselves from animals,” ISI offers his explanation. Jaat and I laugh at the sardar’s words. A slight tug of fear pulls at my guts, but I’m ashamed of admitting it, and remain quiet.

After walking by the arc of the hedges for sometime, a wave of frustration hits us and we decide to go forth on our own. I offer my theory: if we go around the fort, we are bound to come across a path that leads up there. If there’s an entrance to the fort. I could sense the reluctance with which my theory was received, but as we run out of options, the general consensus is to continue the climb.

We find a path, finally. Guarded closely by overgrown plants and bushes, but surely a pre-defined path. But, right or left, where do we head? All of us offer our own theories, none convincing enough. And right is where we head.

From here, the red flag at the corner of the fort looks enticingly close. A whiff of wind blows, and the flag waves, as if teasing us, inviting us. We’ll reach you in no time, honey.

The path leads us to an old tree. We stop for a few photographs - mementoes for having survived this far.

The path had reached a dead end and our only way was to retrace our steps and head to the left, which was what we proceed to do. We find a packet of biscuits (without the biscuits, of course) and our hopes are revived. “Civilization has, indeed, crossed this path before.”

As the path is now well defined, we walk faster, and with more enthusiasm. The undergrowth beside the path requires us to bend for stretches, or use our hands to clear the way. But the climb is not so steep. You could say we are walking, and not climbing.

And suddenly, a firangi jumps out of nowhere and presents himself as Human number 2 of our climb. He had gone to the fort through some other way and was on his way down now. I feel a sense of loss, as if we are in some sort of a race to the top. This guy had already reached there. I hate him for telling us the way and robbing us of the pleasure of discovering everything by ourselves.

We reach the waterfall in no time, as the firangi had told us, and we start climbing it. The rocks are in place and help us in getting our foothold as we climb up steadily. A torn shoe appears in front of us. We are too tired, and thrilled by the proximity to our destination to discuss the matter of its origin.

We finally find the stairs, again as the firangi had told us, and our collective joy knows no bounds. We are welcomed by a statue of Hanumanji, just at the bottom of the staircase. Water falls from the edge of the wall at the top, washes the stairs. The wall adjoining the stair is thick with moss accumulated over the ages.

A butterfly and the wind

I sensed the wind coming from a distance
Steadying, preparing myself
To battle against it
Or was it to welcome it?

She came with the wind,
Taking me by surprise –
Complete, pleasant, jittery.

My wings hurt as I tried to steady myself
My strength ebbed.

Was it an illusion?
My senses cheating on me?
But I saw myself – or a part of me..
I can, still.

I moved to touch her – but my limbs were immovable,
Paralysed.

The flutter of her hair – hurting my eyes
Blurring my senses
The scent of her hair but eluded me
Lost in the wind, perhaps
As my senses sought, desperately

Her voice I could hear
Slow, lazy, dissolved in the wind
I scraped the parts of it, putting them together
It was mine!

I tried to steady myself.
Tried to go back where I was
But I had been blown away!

The wind is long gone.
I still try to steady myself,
Despising myself for having blown that far.
I beckon my strength,
As I lay,
Thinking of the wind,
Of who was riding on it, and
What was taken away from me.