You Lover-boy, Bombay.

In the rare quiet moment,

I sit by your sea.

Feel your humid whispers, 

on winter nights of hot shivers.

I believe your touch and think

You belong to me. 

Then.

There is a sound

desperately

turning into a 

cacophony. 

The red light has only

turned yellow.

And there's already 

a traffic of hearts

racing ahead to 

get a piece of you

greet you 

"Hello!"

Oh! My Beloved! 

You're such a charmer, aren't you? 

You belong to me and to her and her and her too. 

I'm welcome any time I want.

Get a taste of your delight.  

I can sleep on your bed

bask in your light. 

And soon its time. 

To leave.

And to leave behind the key.

To realize,

it did not belong to me. 

There is space to be made. 

I can come back later, 

when my dues are paid. 

Until then, there are many other takers. 

Conversation and love makers. 

Oh! My Beloved! 

Yet, you never fail to charm, do you? 

You never let me know what you are up to. 

How can I hate you? 

Your goodbye note is also so true,

without vile.

Even when I leave you, you make 

me smile. 

How can I love you? 

Your sweet charms are for 

everyone

to taste.

Every morning I have to make way

for your daily 

haste. 

Oh! My Beloved! 

You have the knack for it, don't you? 

You're not my lover, but I can't hate you too. 

I am like that fake, shining bridge 

hanging over your sea water. 

Hanging aimlessly. 

An exercise in the cheap display

of your power-play. 

Hanging endlessly.

A means to an end, a way

with a small price to pay. 

Oh! My Beloved! 

You are a true player, aren't you? 

You know so well how and what to make me do.

You make me drunk on your love,

fall on the floor. 

And after, when I'm hurting, 

You make me want to 

play some more! 

Bombay, I leave you behind...

Sorry Bombay, I have to leave you behind...
I have to leave behind your idiosyncrasies, your ways, your life..
I am too used to you
Even when I'm here,
I assume
I am with you
But sorry, I can no longer cheat on my present
and live by my past.
I just cannot afford it any longer.
Afford to assume
that instant means instant.
For, now, instant means an hour
or 45 minutes after a puppy-faced negotiation
in broken bits of an imitated kannada accent.
I cannot depend on pedestrians and auto walas
to guide me to a destination
while I am sure, I can just figure it out that way.
Because there are too many turns I encounter
too many one-ways
too many 3rd crosses
which are different, by the way,
from 3rd mains and 3rd streets.
I must leave your linear ways behind.
Learn to adhere to pre-decided meeting points
fixed at prominent junctions,
which were really meant to be circles
and are now under-passes.
I must learn bus numbers
Unless I wish to live in the hope
of someone somehow guiding me.
Your familiarity has begun to cost
my pockets
my time
my patience.
I must leave behind the luxury
of walking down the lane
for a late night cup of make-do coffee
and rely instead on my culinary creativity
to make do with what I have
in my room already.
Except the rare occasion of being blessed
with a 24 hour cafeteria
which serves coffee, at only particular hours of a day.
I don't want to take for granted
a rickshaw waiting for me at every nook and corner
mostly willing to take me to another nook and corner
by the meter.
For, it only leaves me with the option
of long walks
or missed lectures
And long walks now actually mean long walks
Not the 500 metres that you got me used to.
I am sorry..
Or rather, I am glad
I have to leave you behind
So that I am finally able
to discover this 'other' land.
Where long walks are a pleasure
and the non-availability of rickshaws
at my whims and fancies
leads to little adventures.
Where scheduling and planning ahead
makes me productive.
Where a new language, new gestures, new greetings
await me with wide arms
always asking my hungry soul
'uta ayitha?'
Where getting lost amidst crosses and lanes
leads me to quiet homes
and pretty lakes
and gardens that spring out of seemingly nowhere.
So, I leave you behind Bombay
Here and now, I play
by new rules
And maybe someday
I'll come back to you
With wonderful stories
of discovery
And delight. 

My dear one,

For years, I have denied you access to my heart. I have been blind to you, in my pre-decided frenzy of not letting myself ever know your charms. Yes, I have been unfair. And what have you done? You have understood. My need to ridicule, ignore and distance myself. You have been patient. Waiting for me to reach out to you in response. You have shown faith. 

And look what you have done! You have grown on to me... You have broken down the wall of my resilience, of my pretense, of my denial. 

Now, my heart is filled with an overwhelming gratitude. 

I thank you, for letting me come to you, broken down, nervous and angry. For, then, taking away the pain and not minding at all when I yearned to celebrate with another. In my lust for light and noise. 

I thank you, for being the one that lets me be. Feel what I feel. Without the distraction of merry-making. 

For all those evenings of quiet walks. 

For all the nights, when I could only listen to the rain as I calmed down to the rhythm of the pitter-patter instead of getting blown away by pelting showers. 

For sitting me down on a window-sill as the distant chug of trains reminded me of faraway lands and promised adventures. 

For bringing me back to the pride of seeking knowledge. Walking to the non-fiction section of book-stores and discovering ideas, truth and people. 

I thank you for your cups of coffee. Brewed to soothe and to inspire, not entertain and console. 

You showed me colours in the changing sky of dusk. 

You made my nights silent. The time to indulge in the Arts. 

You gave me a chance to explore places. Places hidden in deep corners of my heart.

Yes, you took me away. From friends. From the comfort of familiarity.

But that was not your intention, I see now. 

You gave me what I need and had forgotten I love. 

You gave me the parts of me I had forgotten exist. 

You gave me all that I had forgotten I want. 

Now, I come back to you. 

This time, I will give you a fair chance, my dear, to win me over... 

And I know, that in ways most unannounced, you will. 

I wish to be carried away by your breezy touch. I wish to sleep on your quiet bed. I wish to romance your subtle charms. I wish to know you, accept you, love you. I wish to become a part of you so that you can be my home. 

You will be my home again, won't you my dear one, nanna Bengaluru? 

This Time

This time,

I think I'll walk home

instead.

Or half-way, at least.

Not because I need to become fitter.

I do.

But that, another day.

Right now,

I'll walk and walk

Till I stop figuring out

which next turn I must make.

And don't think of pending tasks either.

This time,

I'll just walk

just to walk.

This time,

it won't be a sweat.

For, this time,

there's a cold breeze.

In my city.

Of winter-less-ness.

To Bangalore...

If you have never lived in Bangalore,

you will never know

the warmth of sunshine,

the comfort of those few rays

after a chilled night

and drops of rain...

If you have never lived in Bangalore,

you do not chance upon

a torn old book, with love notes

somewhere in the corner

of an old, winding book store...

If you have never lived in Bangalore,

you cannot figure

your way around different

combinations of turns

in a maze

of carelessly designed one ways...

If you have never lived in Bangalore,

coffee is a conversation-starter

inspiration for graffiti walls

and cool merchandise

but never just

a cup of well-brewed beans...

If you have never lived in Bangalore,

Metallica and Iron Maiden

Oh maybe I should not dare

venture there

If you know Bangalore

you'll also know why!

If you have never lived in Bangalore,

well, you've just never lived in Bangalore.

Too Bad!

Before you think it, or even worse, say it, let me accept that there is much more beauty to Bangalore than just the few specifics I've just mentioned...

This, however is just the small tale of my personal love for this city..

After over three years of constant comparing, I have learnt now, to accept and even love Bangalore for Bangalore and not bicker about how it is not, ermm, Bombay! I see now, how, my love-hate relationship with Bangalore is tending more to the former side of the scale..

And I am glad that albeit taking a few years, lots of idlis and even more cups of coffee, I write this.. To Bangalore...With Love!

Again

You know that moment...

The one you think of

ever so often.

Smiling

with dreamy eyes?

That same one

which transports you

to a dusty bus-ride,

a meandering conversation

that distinct smell,

a dear taste?

The moment you hold so close

to your heart.

Cherish. Share. Recreate

Again.

And Again.

The same one that

your recording device cannot do justice to.

The one that

your words cannot do justice to.

You know?

But do you also know

something strange

about that one?

That moment

Even memory cannot do justice to.

It's there,

right there,

just there.

Guarded

in Time.

And you can never

be there, do that

again.

Ever again.

Binge!

Don’t give a damn

For this daily strife

Ain’t no wretched moment I can’t survive

Would lose my shirt

To that spoonful of life!

If there’s a damn rule

I’ll cheat it.

That forsaken deadline,

I’ll meet it.

And when the world is my oyster…

I’m jus gonna eat it!!!

I figured that waiting until then is, well, not happening. I’ve decided to care a damn (if that can really be called a decision) and just eat to my heart’s content right away. Eat at different places, at different prices and with different people… So there lies the entire point of making you read all this self-indulgent blah. Different people! Since you’re not me, you obviously belong to that category… and I would love to invite you to dinner (and lunch and breakfast and coffee and tea).

Now, I don’t fully know why you would choose to come with ‘me’, but if you truly, sincerely love food then you wouldn’t care to figure that out either!
So, whoever you are and whatever you eat, please come join me. Let’s Binge!

Place: Britannia and Company, Colaba
Day: Sunday, 24th July
Time: 1 pm (or whenever you eat lunch)
Reason: Because I have never eaten Parsi food!

I didn't make it to Bhutan.

No.

I didn’t make it to Bhutan.

Came here instead

to the dreaded dreamland,

where time is money

as is everything else.

Where slow

is the dheemi local

or the internet!

No.

I didn’t make it to Bhutan.

Woke up instead

on early afternoons

of eventless days.

To a diminishing rain

and flood-threats.

No.

I didn’t make it to Bhutan.

So?

Could I not walk for a kilometer and a half?

Let the rain drop fall on my hair

and the muck lay aside.

Could I not just walk?

Push, one foot and another

through waves of rain water?

Step on semi-stones

and half-jump over dividers?

Watch those school kids, wet inside ankle-length raincoats

cause a traffic jam

marching across the road

single file.

Could I not?

Walk.

Watch.

Wonder.

Could I really not,

just stand here,

drenched,

pleased at a 30 minute mini- adventure?

Console myself.

So what?

I didn’t make it to Bhutan.

Soul, Smiles and the Last Shangri-la!

Whoever you are, whatever you do…

I urge you to, if even for a moment, stop.

Stop doing, stop being and

Imagine.

Imagine that right in the middle

of two racing economies

lies a small, very small kingdom;

where the people are unaware of the race.

Imagine

a tiny haven nestled in the mountains;

where height is measured by

how tall you stand

Imagine

a land of people who choose

a monarchy;

that defies the balance-sheets of the world

in favour of

Happiness.

Imagine

waking up to an open blue sky

dotted with yellow-blue flags

of Wisdom;

and sleeping to chants

of an Ancient Secret.

Imagine.

And then, Imagine

some more.

And when you are done imagining

Please do tell me.

Would you

or would you not

come, if even for a moment, and

live in this World

with me?

If you would, then I think we are up for some vagabonding, conversation and great meals together!

Allow me, now, to share with you some more details in the simplest, fastest way. Here goes...

Where?

I am optimistic that you are sure of our destination by now! ;) And, as to where all and where exactly in Bhutan, I think we should figure that out together, right?

When?

July 1st to July 14th is the surest tentative date! Though, we could do a period of 14 days, anytime between 25th June to 20th July.

Why Bhutan?

Well, for a lot of reasons, and for no reason at all! In fact, you should share with me your reason.

For some more 'real' and 'objective' thoughts, insights and experiences of the country you should look at/read:

http://www.littleexistence.blogspot.com

http://www.kingdomofbhutan.com

So Close to Heaven: The Vanishing Buddhist Kingdoms of the Himalayas by Barbara Crossette

A Baby in a Backpack to Bhutan by Bunty Avieson

The Monies and other Concerns

The budget very much exists and should be a maximum of 10,000 per person for 14 days from Calcutta onwards. And though, like most other matters, the budget is flexible, we should try and adhere to it!

Other concerns like visa, currency, passport etc can be taken care of easily... It is quite simple for Indians, all you need is some photographs and and ID proof. However, we can correspond on that at a more direct level (ie: we'll just chat/talk!)

Should I seriously be coming?

Well, yes of course! If you have read this post so far, I am positive that you seriously want to!

You should reconsider only if any (or all!) of the following apply:

• Serious problems with flexibility. In fact, any problems with it at all! Backpacking, with a fixed and small budget cannot be enjoyed without being able to make/break/alter plans, or not have plans at all!
• OCD! Some places we go to might not exactly be the most hygienic or aesthetic...
• Need to carry hair dryers/matching shoes and accessories for every outfit/gels/anything else that is not exactly a 'necessity'!
• Dislike for walking! We just cannot, not walk and still explore a place!
• Lastly, no respect for the environment.

Now, I do feel old and boring with the information over-dose. So if there is anything else you want to know please write to me at poorvaagarwal.89@gmail.com. More importantly, write to me with your suggestions, ideas, wish-lists... And then assuming, there's going to be more than just you and me on this wonderful adventure, everyone should get involved, excited and talking!

See you soon, on the road!

Rajasthan 10 - Opening up my heart

“I just open up my heart ya!”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

We were sitting by a make-do fire, the four of us.

Me. My friend and fellow traveller. And two strangers. Photographers we had met on the train to Jaisalmer – Rohit Sabharwal and Santosh. Some co-incidence and a really good bargain offer had brought us together on this ‘desert trip to see the dunes’.

With a half a day long camel-ride, a few gorgeous sun-set pictures and an evening dinner behind us, we had resorted to the good old travel pastime – Conversation. And I had just asked Rohit some naïve question about how do you know who to trust and where do you draw the line.

To which he said, “I just open up my heart ya…”

What? Opens up his heart? That’s it?

What did he even mean, opens up his heart just like that!

How could one possibly afford to do that…? Open up their heart to the receptionist of a functional, budget hotel? To any fellow passenger on the local bus? To sweet-sellers across the street from your hotel?

How could one warm up to someone at the risk of becoming vulnerable? Or maybe just let go, at the risk of also letting go of precious cameras and saved money?

Though I smiled back at him, it was the half-curved smile of disbelief. Of course, he did not mean what he had just said. It was a good line, perfect for the moment and the ambience. That’s it.

I looked away. Questioning.

Then I saw.

The unending expanse of desert around me. No sign of any civilisation for miles. The five camels and the two camel-walahs sitting beside. In the stark darkness. The two strange men I was talking to. I didn’t know where I was, my parents didn’t know where I was. There was just one person there who I could trust. He was almost asleep.

And then all of a sudden, I saw what he had meant.

For I had opened up my heart too. Just like that.