Chasing the Hippie Trail 2: Parvati Valley

As Dadu puts it; "If only for that sight once more Dear friend. My mind/body begs for it now Beech was an idealistic portrait of a girl. Parvati is a goddess, who has converted many a such atheist. Mallana is a shrine which will endure its hype and Tosh is a home, which i will never forget."

The second stop while chasing the hippie trail was the Parvati Valley. The first stop was Goa, but I don't plan to reveal too many hippie secrets to Janta Janardan, and I didn't have a camera there, and what happens in Goa is sacred, and it should stay there.
So let's start with leaving Arambol, to up north, in the hills.
 
Reaching there:
Take a train/flight to Delhi or Chandigarh. There are regular buses to Manali from both these cities.
Alight at Bhunter on your way to Manali.
From Bhunter you can hitchhike or take government buses(there's one at 12PM that goes all the way up) or take a taxi to your place of choice in the valley.

Where over there:
The primary town of the valley is Kasol, you can get money exchangers, camping equipments, Rasta-colored clothes, dreadlock saloons and 'people' here.
Also since it has become popular with annoying Delhi collegeboys, you might want to run away on the weekends.

Tosh Village
Tosh is a sleepy Himalayan village on the Tosh river. Most of the inhabitants are herdsmen and hemp growers.

Ego Death in the valley of trance beats

Start off from Kasol towards Manikaran, from Manikaran a bad road goes uphill towards Tosh. If you have city taxi, the driver might not be very happy driving on the trail.
Our driver ditched us midway!

Local taxiwallahs would be happier taking you up there. [Some serious off-roading involved]

Kasol to Tosh Bus: 1:20PM

After a bumpy ride you reach the Tosh bidge, trek a bit and you're in the magical village.
I would have stayed at the Olive Garden, its owner Jackie is a nice chap, but he was still in Arambol around March-end.

So we put camp at 'The Last Resort", literally the last resort towards the bridge in the Tosh Village.

The Last Resort, Tosh

When you put your bags down, step out, and see towering snow-clad mountains around you, it is what we call 'Ego Death' happening in a matter of seconds.

Its a village where life slows down, and the local Tosh Cream is second only to Malana in quality(we'll talk about Malana later).

Also the local Himalayan Rec Trance music still plays in its original, beautiful unadulterated form in Tosh.


Pizza Hut, Tosh
Not your Dalhi pizza hut duh.! It was tiny-shiny cafe in the sleepy bylanes of Tosh. Its owner Krishna has created fabulous lesser known space with Tosh village on one side and the Tosh river flowing in the valley next to towering mountains on the other side. Whatever he cooks, he cooks with passion, closes the kitchen door, puts on some spiritual trance and dishes out food to the hungry trekkers.

PS: Your digestive system works with triple efficiency at high altitudes.

Krishna's 'Perfect' Cake

The surprise: Ask Krishna for the secret "perfect" cake he makes. I can assure you nothing would show you what psychedelia is better than his cake.






Treks
Ask anyone the way towards the Tosh Galcier/'Waterfall'. We started off from Olive Garden towards the jungles, that's also where I met my "perfect girlfriend". A faithful hill dog, she stayed with us throughout the journey uphill and downhill, through dangers, happiness and "I could've just died" moments, she deserves a separate blog altogether and it shall be up next.

Anyhow, you start trekking uphill you'd find a pretty cute waterfall of the Tosh river in the wilderness. You go to a corner there is a tiny cafe called "Ishan Shanti Cafe" the owner Ishan is a pretty friendly guy. He doesn't have much to serve because ration supplies are limited there. But he's more than happy to chill with people most of the times.

Take your tea break there, and sample some local stuff, trek on and on till as far as you can go, the trail is populated with smaller falls, snow, Pin forests, grass meadows, stepped farms.

As you go higher up it starts getting snowy, dangerous, slippery and difficult, but what's in the end is totally worth it.


Suddenly the grand Parvati River appears in front of you and Aloha!!

A huge river falling from a height on gigantic white marble rocks, untouched Pin forest everywhere around and of course, no matter how high up you go, there are always higher peaks mocking you.

One could stay in Tosh forever but Malana was calling us downhill.

Malana Village

We reached Malana to sample the local Malana Cream. Guys, the all the fuss around it is '16-aane-sach'.
So I made friends with this old man Tukaram from Malana, his age could be anywhere between 50 and 70. My question was, what's this deal about the village? WHY do you guys think you're so cool?

5 Myths about Malana busted:

1. The locals do NOT consider themselves descendents of Alexander. In Tukaram's own words, "Sikandar kaha aaye honge itni door iss gaon mein". Its all media hoo-haa.
2. According to Tukaram, any Malanese family does not have a problem with tourists touching/living/eating in their house as long as they are Rajputs/Brahmins and most would allow anyone as long as they're not "SC/ST" in his own words.
3. Not all cream you get in Malana is the awesome cream. It has variants. Try and buy.
4. The local temple of Jamlu Devta shall not be touched. But you be nice to the locals, you can click its photographs. I did. :)
5. You can stay in Malana. Yes. There're 2-3 guesthouses. But there's also a secret hippie guesthouse. I wouldn't tell you the way. And the view from there is magical. High-up in the sky, and the Parvati flowing in front of you! Magical. To fall from there is the best way to die. You'd die smiling! If you're a true traveler, find out for yourself.

Getting There:
The road for Malana parts from Zari town. Zari also has the last ATM on enroute the valley. The road is super-rough so make sure you have strong/high base car with you.
The road till Malana Hydroelectric Plant is motorable and metalled. Thereafter, drive at your own risk.

As you drive up you'd see a board reading "Way to Malana village", you could stop and start climbing from here, it's a 4-5hour trek from this gate. Otherwise you could drive uphill and reach another similar gate. The village is a 1-1.5hour trek from there.

The trek is ugly in a nutshell. The hills are barren, all the water has been diverted to the power plant. The stairs might slow/tire you down, but keep trekking nevertheless.

The Malana Village is as primitive as it could get. Hayshacks, wooden houses and tons of muck everywhere.
We made friends with the locals and Ta Da! First time on the internet, a photo of Jamlu Devta Temple:

Jamlu Devta Temple, Malana

Cross the bylanes of Malana to reach the other side, cross the permanent snow and keep going uphill beyond the village. You might just start living there is all I'd say. Go explore for yourself.

Here is a glimpse of life of people there, from my brief stay!

Local Women Celebrating Spring!

Village Dance to Village Beats!

Aap bhi Hindustani, Main bhi Hindustani, Meri photo kheencho, Sheher se banwa ke lana, aur mujhe dena!

 The people of Malana have tasted development, earlier they protested to a direct road link to their village, now they're asking the government to build one. They know tourists bring money, and they locals are far more accepting of outsiders than they ever were.

Kasol
Since I am phobic to excess human interference, I was apprehensive if Kasol would turn out to be any good. But the place surprised me.
I was expecting 'Baga-Calangute types junta' there but it had its own share of surprises.

We all know about Evergreen Cafe right? Its a nice place. Eat there. Good food. Recharge yourself, then eat Momos at Reyshan's Cafe. Reyshan is a sweet friendly local boy, he can guide you towards cheap local accommodation as well.

You feel like doing something different, start trekking on the road next to Reyshan's cafe, keep trekking up till you see this little house:

World's Trippiest Residence. Period. Btw, that's me! :D

Request the owners for residence, if they allow, come back and tell me how it was!

If you go further uphill, you enter the Karnawat Pin Forest. The Parvati flows here in full force, this is also the perfect place, for those 'Feet in Water, Back on the Forest floor, Eyes on the waterfall' moments!

Underground Himalayan Music Cafes
That's the thing about underground cafes. If non-serious people go there, not only do they spoil the scene, they don't have much fun themselves.
So if you like Himalayan Trance, if you think THIS song is F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S., then visit Cafe Bhoj.

 

Next to 'Saamy's Travel Agency' in Kasol Main Market is a tiny-shady board that reads 'Cafe Bhoj'. The interiors are as beautiful as as the exteriors are nondescript.

Two floors of pure bliss. Big Hot Box Halls, Smaller Semi-Private cafe rooms, ambiance matching Israel of 1960s. Its also one of the few places that stay open all night.

I spent close to 6hours there and my body/mind still longs to go back.

Other Places of Interest

Now lets keep it simple-silly!

Kheerganga: You can trek to Kheerganga from Barsheni, Tosh or Rudranag.

From Barsheni the Trek is longer-easier.

From Tosh its shorter but tuffer.

From Rudranag its the shortest but pretty killing.

Take your supplies and tents along. If you dont own sleeping bags and tents yourself, there's a shop in Kasol selling the same. There's a singular guesthouse up there, but it has just 3rooms so they might/might-not be available!

The trek is beautiful, and the hot springs on top of the hill are an interesting sight, you might meet a Baba on your way up to Kheerganga. He's a nice chap.

His 'kheer' easily falls in the list of one of the best thing to go into people's body and minds!

Chhalal: Cross the Chhalal bridge, Hike for a few kilometres to reach Mula family Home. Another cafe/guest house in the middle of the rainforests known for their music. They also host trance parties in the jungle frequently.

The Vernacular Debate

English medium education and a large English speaking population has worked wonders for the country. "A large English speaking workforce" is arguably the second most important selling point for investors after "a large(hence cheap) workforce."
Communication is not lost in translation. Its the ideal destination for outsourcing, back-end jobs and all tasks that can be completed by following a sequenced set of instructions.


An even larger Non-English speaking workforce works equally well for the economy. They're readily available for work in the manufacturing industry and sweatshops. They're not allowed to dream big and keep themselves in their places. They're a large in numbers(hence cheap) workforce.


The success story is excellent on paper. The growth drivers look just right for steering a fast growing economy to success. India's the world's 4th largest economy by Purchasing Power Parity.


Well, that's just the brighter side.

The nation is still and also estimated to have a third of the world's poor. 37% of the total Indian people falls below the national poverty line of Rs 37 per day.(The poverty limit is another joke on human intelligence anyway).


The school dropout rate is extremely high. A great percentage of population in underdeveloped states challenges the relevance of compulsory education. Levels of homelessness, health, human development factors continue to rank amongst the world's lowest.

The other day I had a conversation from a simple man from a small city in rural Maharshtra, who came to Mumbai years ago, works as a bartender at a small time bar. What prospects does he have for the future. He can aspire to open his own bar. Alas! He cannot. In the F&B industry dominated by the English speaking elite, no one would take him seriously. He wouldn't be able to find partners, the bank would consider his loan applications stupid and the investors(even Indian) wouldn't know his language.

The problem with English medium education is that only a minuscule percentage. Only 27.8% of the population lives in 5500 urban towns/cities. Even in the most optimistic estimates only 12-15% would live in the 300 biggest urban centers.


So only 5-7% of the population can afford education in private schools or Pratibha Vikas Schools or Kendriya Vidyalayas.

English education given in vernacular medium government schools across the nation is substandard. Hence the vast majority of our educational institutions produce vernacular-speaking manpower fit only for blue collar jobs.

This English speaking population then runs the majority of our enterprises. This population forms the majority of people who can even dream about entrepreneurship. No wonder the country has to import jobs from foreign entrepreneurs.

Social equality starts with equal educational opportunities. English education for all is NOT the solution. Its impractical to find English speaking teachers for the entire nation's students.

The second social model is Japan or any of the European/American nations, everyone is taught in the same language. The local language. A man with modest education but the right attitude can climb up the entrepreneurial ladder. The judgement of a person's intellect is not based on his/her language skills but his intellect.

The divide between the rich and poor. The inability of the poor to uplift themselves despite the presence of great opportunities. The ineffectiveness of the "trickle down effect " can never be addressed unless an average Indian is allowed to work, study, fall in love, judged and allowed to look for opportunities in his mother tongue.


The Vernacular Language.

The Dissection of a Love's Death

You don’t believe in relationships. You’re too wild a stag to be tamed. Ungettable. You’ve been single since almost forever now and you enjoy every bit of it. You party hard, are up for intimacy without the intricacy. You’d die single, you’re genuinely happy to admit it to yourself.

Well, she’s almost the same. The problem.

It’s the perfect combination. You’re wildly happy when together. You tell each other what you have is nothing, but your heart still skips a beat when you kiss her goodbye, but you’re both scared of admitting it to yourselves or each other. Your friends who’re too used to you being the whore suddenly sit up and notice what’s up?

Your union feels just perfect. Your bodies are meant for each other and there’re fireworks everywhere around you. Why would you do it with a hundred weird people when this one is just perfect for you?

That’s how some people embrace monogamy. Slowly, scared and very carefully. Scared because you’re scared of your own fiddle mind and you might hurt the other one.

But for the first time you really care. You admit it to them. Impulsively casually. She accepts she’s held it in for too long as well.

You’re just perfect. Equally mad. Equally fucked up.

Dedicate a song for yourself because suddenly you feel like you invented love. Fall in love. Be in love.

Meet a cute girl and notice it. Don't flirt with her, but think about her for the rest of the day. Have sex with your partner that night, 'cause since you saw that girl, all you've wanted to do was fuck. But all this is normal, and you still love your girlfriend, really and truly. Honestly, actually.

Have your first fight. Don’t talk for a day and make up quickly. Have your first string of fights. Say mean stuff, very mean. Hurt her, get yourself hurt. There’s a weird pleasure in this pain.

Go for an open relationship. Your relationship is now “secure.” Realize what you had been missing all this while. Live your single self again. Live the life you’ve been missing. Get bored. You’re perfect for each other. Embrace her again.

Move in. See her everyday. Fight over cleaning the utensils in the morning and give her a feet massage when she returns from office in the evening. Gaze at the sky together. This feels good. This is it.

Something goes missing. Begin to fight more regularly, and notice yourself becoming increasingly passive aggressive. Hate that about yourself. Move out, give each other some “space.” You could use some space. You could use a lot of space. The space feels nice.

Fight after dinner at her place and you’re stuck with nowhere to go. She spews venom at you, you retaliate right back. Break up. Cry on her shoulder. Hug tight and sleep, its your last night together. Two and half years pass by in two and a half hours.

Get your hair cut or a new shirt, even though no one will notice. She would have noticed. Sigh. Wish you were still together. Wait, no, wish you were still together...but happy. Reminisce about falling in love and that part where you were so excited and you had all the sex all the time and you giggled.

Stop talking to her altogether, because it's too hard, and block her from Facebook, because you just don't want to know. Ask your friends to give you regular updates on her profile though. Spend a LOT of time with your friends - sober - and realize how important they are. Realize that your friendships are relationships, just not romantic, and they're important too.
Talk to people who have been through breakups and realize you're not alone. Because just like you thought you invented love, you also thought that you invented heartbreak. Understand that this awful, debilitating sentiment is not limited to only you. 
But everything still hurts. Realize that they all survived, and that heartbreak is a common experience, crushing though it may be. Know that most everyone else lived through it, and now you're a part of this big, beautiful thing, this universal feeling, this harrowing experience. You'll live through it, because everyone else did. You'll probably live through it again. Write a haiku about this feeling and post it on your Blog. Everyone likes it! They've been there, too.

Sleep with someone else, and realize that's something you can do. High five people and go through the day all chipper, 'cause you had sex last night, bitch! Wish it was sex with her, but know that can't happen. Sleep with other people! Or don't! Either way, realize your own autonomy, and relish it. Keep missing her, but feel something new: Relief.

Understand you probably felt it the second you broke things off, but couldn't admit it, because admitting it would mean you didn't love her. Don't worry, you did, you really did. But sometimes it's just not enough, and sometimes it just doesn't work. Stop blaming yourself, or stop blaming her. Both. The relief is so honest, and you hope she feels it too, whatever she's doing these days.

Start talking again, and get your friendship back. Realize how much you've missed her! Not her in your arms, or her in your bed, but her as a person. She knows you so well, and vice versa.

Wait, are you still in love with her?

Think about it for a second...nah. But you do love her, just not like that, which, by the way, still doesn't mean you want to meet her new boyfriend. Realize you might be happy, and not only that, but happy for her.

Date around a little, but don't get into anything serious. You're not looking for a relationship, 'cause you know who you're dating? Yourself. Because if you can't make it work with yourself, then how are you supposed to make it work with anyone?

(The post is an adapted by the writer to suit his own heartbreak from a similar post by Katrina on Autostraddle. All heartbreaks are the same yet all are so different!)

The types of people in NSIT

I thought I’d do a profiling of the types of girls in NSIT but then, the sample space was too thin. So here’s to the breeds of people in NSIT.

The Bhand People

The name says it all. They’re found smoking up near Teen pathhar, khokha and Nesci parking if in college. They love Goa and they love to party. Most of their conversations revolve around weed, alcohol and everything above it. The ghissus frown at them and see them as bad role models for their children. They’ve done feats and have had experiences and have lived it!

The Society People

They’re the I-can-do-its. They run the college societies, clubs, car teams, fests, newspapers, NGOs, catering facilities, cleaning services.  They can grouch about how much happier they would’ve been had they been in DU and swear by their non-tech placements is the same breath. Each one of them considers themselves better than anyone else in the college.

The Ghissus

They study. They supply the rest of the class with notes during exams. They also turn mean-bitches and don’t supply the rest of the class with notes during exams. They rarely exit their rooms when in hostel. However, they do puke their intestines out when they get drunk in their friends’ job parties. And every time they puke, they tell themselves, Oh man! I’ve lived it in college!

The Musskle boys

They worship the gym and ask their neighbors for ghals’ phone numbers and think they’re one step closer to patio-ing them after every wanna-make-frandship phone call. They roam around in groups and tight fitting shirts murmuring ‘saali slut’ around college. They proudly wear scar marks on their face, and have atleast two battle stories to their credit. They have gangs and oh boy! Gangwars are serious business!

The pseudo intellectuals

They swear by the economic times in their rooms and brains in their skulls. Nothing less than president Obama and Ahmedinejad interests them on the mess table, bad food, eh what? They were found shouting during Moksha and Inno GDs earlier, now they like to dress up and MUN!

The Good for Nothings

Now I’m no judge but when after 4years of college you see a guy during the placements for the first time, it IS kind of freaky! They find corners to seclude themselves during conversations and classes. They’re probably the best listeners, mass bunk destroyers and good for nothings!

Disclaimer: Meri bhains ko lathi mat maarna, this list is just for a few giggles!

Jummey ke din kiya chumme ka wada! :* :*

There’re times when every man is in his petite woman mode.

Mujhe sachche pyaar ki talaash hai.

Gulia, dude, you don’t understand what true love is all about?

Engineers are more prone to this syndrome. (A sex ratio of 120:1 in DCE Mechanical, what a fuckin joke on humanity mylord?) As I was discussing with Amay’Zing the other day, what we desire the most is always what we don’t have. He has a job that’d pay him 10lacs a month ($_$) and I have a college where every day’s a party!

So this (really)nice chap was truly, madly and deeply in love with some girl, the kind of love that makes you do crazy things, makes your knees go weak and turns you into a disgusting derp! He was a man with a mission. Mission-my-belle. He takes the 2.5hours metro ride to rallies up if front of her, and says the three ‘golden words.’

What a fuckin joke? I cried. I was ganged up on, beaten to death, and brought to life just to be beaten more by nothing but words, sermons of love, life and purity. The motion of the house was concluded and passed, I’m a stone-soul, everyone shouted Aye! in MUNna style.

I recovered feeling proud and powerful. Its always better to be a stone-soul than be pathetic. I assumed I’m the only man alive with any real perspective on the topic of love. I decided not to share the real secret with anyone for god has entrusted me with the hidden code.  I went on the way I wanted to.

A year later, some other woman was the apple of (really) nice chap’s eye. They frolicked around Malviya Nagar Market as I looked away puking and gasping for breath at the same time. One fine day, he summoned me, I looked up like a puppy, he had twinkle of a victorious Gladiator in his eyes. He had won.

So how did it happen? I asked the customary question. He started off “I told her I love her, she told me so does she, I asked her if she’s a virgin, she said yes of course.”

I shouted WHAT as loud as I could. Suddenly the pictures of all those feminist women around me Shiva, Usha, random activist started haunting me. I told him, how it’s no big deal even if she’s not, and he had no business asking that alongwith the proposal.

I was given a sermon on importance of purity, chastity and Indian culture, and how romantic his and their first kiss was, next to the Hauz Khas Lake and the wind and the beer and all that jazz. Awwww!

What a loser, I thought on my way back home. I logged on to facebook and saw Tanuj’s Mwah-ing and oleey-ing with the love of his life splashed everywhere like Dark Pink Holi colors and a terrifying thought stuck me. What if I really did not have God’s penultimate secret?

My first kiss was after all in the scorching Delhi summer afternoon, in a Delhi auto rickshaw, and we were just making better when the troll interrupted and asked “Chirag Dilli se nikalun ya Khel Gaon se?” That was the end of it friends. Sobs!

Daane Daane Pe

So it was final year, examinations, boring subject, excellent intoxication, excellent mood, frustration!! Everything was right. And then this poem came out!!

Jo kuchh tere naam likha hai, likha daane daane mein,
Woh to tujhe milega, chaahe rakha ho tehkhaane mein.

Tune ik fariyaad lagayi, usne hafta bhar maanga,
Kitne hafte aur lagenge, uss hafte ke aane mein?

Ek diye ki zidd hai aandhi mein bhi jalte rehne ki,
Hamdardi ho toh, hissedaari karo bachane mein.

Aansu aaye dekh toot-ta chhappar, deewaron dar ko,
Aakhir ghar tha barso lag jate hain ussey banane mein.

Kuchh to socho roz wahin kyo jaakar marna hota hai,
Shaam ki kuchh to saazish hogi, suraj tumhe dubaane mein.

Jaakar toofano se kehdo, jitna chaahe tez chalein,
Kashti ko abhyaas ho gaya lehron se lad jaane mein.

Koun muhabbat ke chakkar mein pade, buri shai hai yaaron,
Mere dost pade the, maare gaye bade paimane mein!

Of freedom, fests and seniors!

The last blog created quite a flutter. It was not supposed to be a piece of unearthing journalism. But it did turn out to be one roughly 17 hours after being posted.

It was supposed to be an article about an artist’s dilemmas about his art. Unfortunately my doubts did not quite go down well with the Moksha team. The following evening I was called to jeeto for a discussion. What followed was not quite a discussion but a threat.

Delete that post or you’d be beaten up.

More than anything else I was taken by surprise. Hello! Whatever happened to freedom of expression? Our forefathers fought and laid down their lives for an independent India, where mind is without fear, and head is held high (oh! Tagore).

I thought about our primary class lessons, and thought of the consequences of not taking them seriously.

“It’s better to lose an arm, than to lose your soul”- Anju Sinha ma’am, from 9^th standard!

I used to tell my colleagues how NSIT is a much better place than DCE, because law of the land prevails here. Hooligan forces do not command respect. Yesterday was an eye opener. More so, because the rogue forces here are the influential people who’re governing the fest.

When we say Moksha’09 was a GOOD fest, we don’t say it in terms of the budget, or decoration. It was a good fest, because it had a soul.

Ability to take criticism contributes to the soul of a team, ability to prove critics wrong contributes to the soul of a team, to let actions speak-contributes to the soul of a team.

I deleted the post initially, because I did not know what better to do. I repost it now, because I revere my freedom of expression. I may have to take a beating and go down with it, but I know if I do, the morals of the Moksha team would have to go down first. And I know all juniors and students of NSIT, who respect their college, principles and freedom, would stand by me.

I Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though you've belted me and flayed me,
By the livin' Gawd that made you,
I’m a better man than you are, Gunga Din!

-Rudyard Kipling, quoted a bit differently.

Why Moksha'11 is not for me...

I have an over expressed patriotic gene in my body. I love India. I love Delhi. I love my school. I love my college.I love my college fest. I love my college drama society. Phew!

Inspiration is VERY important for my body to function and more often than not this gene provides the very necessary inspiration and keeps me going.

Hence, when we revived the NSIT DramaSoc last year, the chief inspiration was the absence of NSIT’s name from the Delhi Campus Theatre scene. As respect grew for us through these circles, it provided the fuel for train as we steered from one win to another. Ashwamedha-the DramaSoc, frankly I HATE the name, but “kya karein, heritage mein mila” is practically the most active and successful cultural society on campus currently. It commands significant respect from the student community if not utmost, and unlike other initiatives has pretty much managed to stay clear of egotist influences.

I stay committed to the society for no other reason other than that I respect it. I respect its members, who apart from being ultra thass-bhasad-champions have worked to bring it here, and probably value it as much as I do.

“It creates a great disconnect from the other areas of life when you think and sleep theatre”- Mahesh Elkunchwar

Probably that was wrong when I thought Ashwamedha would be given the charge of Moksha Inaugral Play, quite obviously. Moksha is the Annual Cultural festival of NSIT for the uninformed. But alas! Someone else had pressed the buzzer first. The team in a classic example of “bhai-bhatijawaad” gave the play to a ‘friend-of-the-team’. I asked for a change, denied. But fair enough!

What surprised me the most was, when on being asked, if both, their friends and the society can perform, the answer was a clear NO. I had never imagined such protectionism existed outside government offices. It would not have been the first time when the inaugural ceremony would have seen two plays.

Instead I was told to keep my tone low and clear of arrogance when I talk to the ‘Seniors’. They probably mistook frustration for arrogance. I was frustrated because I felt let down by the very person, for who I was working all this while, my muse, my motivation. NSIT.

Disappointed we worked on the next production, Vijay Tendulkar’s Sakharam Binder’s Hindi translation and production. It opened at Amity University and Delhi College of Engineering next. Two first prizes and critical acclaim provided what they call Artistic Orgasm!(courtesy Sukirti Sir).

I still love Moksha. But it’s not OUR Moksha this time. It’s their Moksha, I thought. As people talk about pressing for our case with the team and helping us get the inaug. No Man, I think. It’s not the same stage any longer.

We would rather perform at MAMC on the same day. Atleast they give the money…

Why I love being at Greenpeace.

Many might be wondering why I work for Greenpeace. Well I know, this is a clichéd start to an article. I often pen my thoughts down, now have I decided to go public with them. So yes, working with GP has a charm of its own.

Its an organization with clearly defined and not-that-flexible portfolios on issues. They say, ‘NO NUKES’, ‘NO GM’. PERIOD. No more discussion. They’re radical people. They have been programmed for fixed opinions, which each employee adheres to. I wonder how they manage to keep up with that.

I mean, throughout my stint at GP, I didn’t meet a single, no wait, A SINGLE, employee, who even slightly disagreed, or dared to have a different opinion, on otherwise controversial issues.

I’m not criticizing. One reason could be, the people there have discussed and debated the issue extensively at home, before declaring it as an official stand. Hence the unified opinions.

But I have second thoughts, considering the GP opinions hardly look like debated or discussed topics. They’re assertive. They do not accept any compromise, or a middle way out.

I’m very prone to wandering away from the point, when I write, or even in real life. I’d get to the point now.

I like working for GP, because everyday it gives a huge void to think.

There is this titanic space for thought, under the roof of their assertive propagandas.

And I have penchant for hypocrisy, you allege, I agree.

At the Actions Training at Bangalore, I was discussing the GM food issue with Kuba Gogolewski( I love this name). Kuba commented, all the money you put into biotechnology, you put it into another science, and you’d get better results and products.

I told Ayesha at Barista, SDA Mkt over coffee, that renewable energy sources can still not be an alternative to nuclear power, as they are costlier, and still not very “reliable.” She commented, “All the money one puts into nukes, you put it to develop these resources, they’d do better”.

They’re right in their own right. Kuba has a degree in economics, and Ayesha is a criminologist.

All economic theories are programmed to work this way, ‘the dynamics of demand and supply’, ‘higher profit in less time’ etc. (I wonder how economists manage to think about money that lot.)

I might be making a controversial statement when I say this, but when it comes to science, these theories are blah. Scientists like Mendeleev were honored with posthumously, because their theories were useless in their period, but changed the face of mankind years later! And point be noted, Nobel prizes aren’t about the greatest discoveries, they’re about discoveries that changed mankind and science the most. The day economics starts to be the chief inspiration for the sciences. Sciences would die.

Take my current project in college for instance. I’m working on “Proteinases.” Why? What’s the use? I have no answer or idea. But that doesn’t make it any less interesting. Just four types of bacterial enzymes, their behavior, and surprises are the driving force. Who knows this ‘project of no use’ is the next AIDS cure. (I’m dreaming about the Nobel right now FYI!!)

I have NO suggestions to make. Perhaps if anything changes with GP, it wouldn’t be even half as beautiful as right now. Perhaps fixed propagandas are stronger propagandas. Let’s just say, “Greenpeace is all about a group of people having fun, saving the planet, in the process!!”

Theatre and Patriarchy

Talking about patriarchy is “in” these days, or at least in my friend circles. That’s probably because I am an activist. Being one, there’s one fact I’ve realized about women activists. They might be the fighters for any cause- environment, children, gay rights, RTI, Free Tibet. A female activist would always be a ‘women rights activist’ AND some other activist.

And hence you might quite realize how I’m being forced to realize that men are nothing but patriarchic pigs, and there’s patriarchy everywhere in the world. English is a patriarchic language. Corporate offices are ‘P’. Marriage is a ‘P’ institution. The Bra is ‘P’. Pregnancy is because god was ‘P’. And so forth… Phew!

Theatre societies in schools/colleges are pretty interesting groups. There is one group of so-called passionate actors, who almost always play the lead and the second lead roles. There isn’t much movement in and out of this clan. The rest of the roles are played by a more volatile crowd. They don’t take theatre very seriously, a lot of them quit, and a lot new join in. More often than not, there are very few women in the former. Even the leading ladies have to be drawn out of the latter. Or that’s probably just because women aren’t very passionate about much anything..really!!!

Just imagine, if a play has a female as the leading character(s), it’s called a female centric play. Whereas otherwise it’s just default, it’s a normal play. There is a special mention of the word female, because most of the plays have men as the leading people. That’s because they are the people who matter, and have traditionally mattered. They have been heads of families, societies, institutions. They were the ones influencing changes, and hence, inspiring plays.

I remember myself and a few other boys dominating the theatre scene of our school. There was always a tough fight for the best actor shield in the inter-house plays, who gets to act on the annual day, which one gets the excellence in theatre shield. At the back of my mind I did realize, there were certain girls who deserved these laurels as much as we did, if not more, but were never even considered in the race. I see them doing great in professional theatre, and I look back and wonder why?

The question is not why they didn’t get any prize they deserved. The question is why weren’t they ever even considered?

In college the theatre society has pretty respectable sex ratio. When I read a script, I can well imagine which actor would fit into which role. It’s clear in front of my eyes. But when it comes to actresses, NEVER! I always think I’d have to audition a few of them for the roles. Am I a patriarch?

Most certainly no! But somehow, a thought that women are just not competitive enough does slip into my mind every now and then.

I shared these thoughts with a few friends and I realized, I’m not the only one suffering from such a dilemma. Is theatre about to be added on list of the-bra-burning-women’s hit list? Or am I just keeping a lot of bad company these days!!? I don’t know…..

Ambedkar and Gandhi

Based on the popular play "Ambedkar and Gandhi" by the Asmita Group, directed by Arvind Gaur.

Dr B R Ambedkar and Mahatma Gandhi both worked tirelessly for the upliftment of the backward Dalit community in India. Different was their method of going about the job. Neither agreed with the other's ideology, nor did they ever get along well together.

REVIEW:
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Ambedkar was a supporter of reservation. His point was that if the Dalit community was even more backward than the Sikhs or the Muslims(religious minorities), and the religious minorities were being awarded reservation in assembly seats, Dalits had a greater right to reservation than them.

Ambedkar wanted to bring about a change in the societal mentality. He thought opening a few temples to Dalits was not the solution to untouchability. He believed the only way out was to make a dalit man work in all offices, schools, colleges right next to a Brahmin. And thats how the institution would die away.

Ambedkar wanted to abolish the Hindu Caste System altogether.

Gandhi had seen the effects of communal divide in the society. He believed caste based reservation would further divide the society. He believed reservation would turn "caste" into a more permanent entity. and its significance would further increase in the social sphere.

Ambedkar however believed if Gandhi's ideas are implemented, the world would continue as it is, where it is. It would mean a "No Change, No Hope" for the Dalits. He justified it with the fact that the community he represented was way too downtrodden, poor and weak to fight for its rights anytime in the near future.

Gandhi was a staunch believer of the Shastras. he believed that the Caste system formed the backbone of Hindu society, and should exist. He believed hereditary inheritance of varnas, and son-follows-father's-profession-only system should continue. Untouchability should be done away with, though.

He believed in the classic ideology that if a man born in a cobbler's family chooses to be anything else except a cobbler, would create confusion and unrest in the society.

Ambedkar wanted to dissolve and nullify caste system altogether.

Opinions of both the leaders influenced each other, and evolved with time. The Poona Pact was a short period of peace between the two leaders. Who otherwise always on each-other's line of fire.

Ambedkar accused Gandhi of being a victim of the Brahmin mentality. Gandhi at instances even agreed with him on this one, and wrote that he wants to be born in a Dalit household in his next birth, to truly experience and understand what it is like, to be an untouchable and root the problem out.

In today's society we see that both the leaders were right in their own right. While caste system has assumed greater importance in today's political and social spheres. We aren't really ashamed of sitting next to a dalit student in our classes are we?! At the same time we question, How justified is reservation? And often resent the undeserving, financially sound harijans enjoying benefits, they don't deserve.

For us Ambedkar is the man on Mayawati's one thousand statues, and Gandhi the smiling face on our banknotes.

What we don't realize that they represent an open-ended debate with no start, and no end in sight.

"These two men, never liked each other, but neither would have been as great a man, had the other not existed"!! :)

Ambedkar aur Gandhi.

Character Descriptions:
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AMBEDKAR: Headstrong, Egoistic, Aggressive, Sharp tongued, Opinionated, A man like him if believes in a certain cause/method would never settle for the middle way out.

GANDHI: Had a more populist and principled approach to situations.
One important fact to be noticed is that inspite of having thousands of people around him who believed that his word is law, and reiterated everyday that he is "The Mahatme Gandhi". He managed to keep his down-to-earth-on-the-streets character alive.

My Day Will Come Again

In class XIIth after a measly score '5' in the first term Physics(terrible teacher!!), I was deeply saddened and depressed. And the little kiddo set out.

And as always this poem i wrote, channeled my emotions out of the crisis!

This is my life, this is not my day.
When too high to trod, the paths do lay
When I lie here, with my spirits too low
When I didn't like it, but was forced to bow
When I want this saga, this story to end
When no-one's sympathy is offered to lend
I think it not still try in vain
My Day May Come Again..

The heart sinks, it fears the tale sordid
I did it not-lies the coward tongue, timid
When eyes do close with water of plight
When lips roll in with utmost might
When slowly the sparkling pearls roll down
When your own stars stare at you and frown
I think it not still try in vain
My Day Would Come Again.

This rocky path i walk alone
a thousand walks waiting, yet thousand gone
I tried to be what i wanted to be
Looking back failures is all i see
The needles of failure at my soul do poke
The thought of sleep when no one woke
When those burnt luck hands beat thy chest
I try it not I try my best
I think it not still try in vain
My Day Should Come Again.

The sun of hope rises again
The heart jumps up and tries a bargain
But the friends are lost, the goal is far
Even intution struggles in this intutuional war
I'd try again, I'd try I'd fail
Yet try again, try not to fail
A dedicated try, a better one
Would make the mountain, valley none
I think it not, still try in vain
My Day Should Come Again..

Everyday when darkness descends
It is night, not life's end.
But you know for sure, will end the night

The Dawn ahead will bring new light

Yes i believe, I like to believe
MY DAY WILL COME AGAIN...

The Lullaby

"I see the scars of searches everywhere I go

There's a question like a shame no one will show

"What do I live for"

We are squandering this life

Using people like ladders and words like knives

If we've eyes to see, If we've ears to hear

To find it in our hearts and mouths the word that saves is near

There is truth in little corners of our lives

There are hints of it in songs and children's eyes

It's familiar, like an ancient lullaby

Leave all you were before

To believe is to begin..."