Ticket to the Show

The people follow the sign

And synchronize in time

Its a joke - nobody knows

They have got a ticket to the show

~The Show, Lenka

***

Shillong, Meghalaya

20 Oct, 2016

Last time I saw the Barapani lake (Umiam Lake) was about 19 years back. I was expecting it on the 3 hour ride between Guwahati and Shillong. I remembered it. Cannot say the same for the Ward's Lake. I wandered into it after walking off from the bustling Police Bazaar area to bide my time. My companions for the 'trip' and the 'show' were coming back to base. While they were another couple of hours away, I walked along the park surrounding the Ward's lake. Came upto the wooden white bridge spanning the lake and stepped onto it and into a flood of memories I didnt know I had. I had been here before.

*

The night sets in by 5 in this part of the country. So does the chill in the air. For the rest of the waiting, I cozied myself up in a warm comfy bar and let the anticipations of a good break of routine sink in - while I reveled in the sweet reminiscences and bitter intoxications.

Guwahati to Shillong

The White Wooded Bridge of Reminiscence

Ward's Lake

When you take a selfie but dont want it to look like one

4:53 PM

Police Bazaar

*

"Badi Zor! - UUMMMHHHHH"

You will not know what it sounded like. Took me a while to get 'Sorted' into the usual-ness of it.

Kaka and company were back. And these phrases dotted their narration of all that went about in Cherrapunji, Mawlynlong, Haflong, David Scott trail, Dawki and Back. 

More tales ensued. One after another. I had not known most of them outside of the Whatsapp group for this trip. Plus there was another guy I had shared ride with enroute Shillong. The group diversity affected the conversation diversity in direct proportions. I kept losing the thread of conversations as I fluctuated in and out of the other dimension. Most of what I know of the night is what I was told the next morning. And I will leave it to that.

"Continuous..."

***

Bhoirymbong, Meghalaya

21 Oct, 2016 

The venue for the NH7 Weekender was about 30Kms away from the city. Fighting the morning laziness, hangovers and the will-to-forever-sleep-on, the bags were packed and movement was made. 

Took a while and a little lot of trekking to get to our campsite - SHADY Tents. While we settled, the festivities had begun. Lights and Music from the surroundings beckoned. But you dont rock before you roll - some more than others.

The Venue - NH7 Weekender

The Entrance

The Arena

And another arena

And Us with the Mug

Music and Lights

Camp Site - Shady Tents

One with the guy named Shady

Tent no 10

The 'Bucket'

Steven Wilson

More Steven Wilson

And More Steven Wilson

Maybe we needed one more day of it - but we do accept the finiteness more easily than we think we do. Shillong chapter was done. We didnt even wait another night to leave. One proper night's sleep was going to do a world of good to the jumped-upon and trampled toes, headbang-strained necks and chorus-hoarse voices.

More so to the next part of the trip, none of which had been planned yet.

***

Kohima, Nagaland

24 Oct, 2016

Sometimes, you dont quite have your heart and interests committed in a given plan. But you also do not want to be the reason to bring the plan down ('cause you dont have one of your own). So you just go with the flow - hoping someone defaults.

As we lay sprawled in a Guwahati hotel, having planned to take the local train to Kohima in the night, our frames of mind mirrored the conundrum mentioned above.

Nobody defaulted - apart from casually leaving the hotel at the time when the train we were supposed to be in was supposed to have departed. As it happened, the train just stood there while we got tickets and chose a coach to encroach as if it just wouldn't leave without us.

The train dropped us in Dimapur at the break of the morning and another 3 hours on road had us looking at the slopes of Kohima.

If Kaka were to write the rest of this passage, it will end right here. 

For him, his mind is his Instagram (which I appreciate) and the hotel room is the city (which I do not). So, he can tell you about the journey to Kohima, which in itself is fulfilling, but so is the destination. 

We walked across the length of the city - one end to the other - and brought back mental images of the new that we saw - in plenty and in everything. What we saw, what you can see, and other information is floating in the air around you and merely a few swipes away on a given app. To be here is one different thing. Its the show. And you have the ticket.

Kohima - Morning

Kohima - Night

*

Kohima was the end of the party. I split to join my family in Gangtok while others turned homewards. 

***

Gangtok, Sikkim

27 Oct, 2016

Had it not been for the Teesta (river) serpentining all along the road, the road journey upto Gangtok (from New Jalpaiguri) might have seemed a lot longer. But it did take time and by the time I reached Gangtok, my mother had already completed the local sight seeing and scheduled the next day plans for the Nathula Pass (Indo-China Border) and the Tsongo Lake. 

The time out of the itinerary I had, I put into meeting up with a good old friend from engineering days who chanced to be in his hometown. This trip had been a lot about reminiscences. And it continued.

All Along the river Teesta

Enroute Nathula

Borders and Flags

NOT Tsongo Lake

Tsongo Lake

M. G. Road, Gangtok

***

Home (Patna, Bihar)

30 Oct, 2016

Hadn't had a Diwali at home in a while. Since its been a while I grew up from crackers, food and passive entertainment lit up my diwali and the remaining few days of my two week long break. Its always good to be home. And its always Diwali when you are home.

Say No to Crackers - Say Yes to Music

Diya Wali Deepawali

And food

***

Apart from the loss of obvious comfort, the only bother about going back to Bangalore was the flight schedule I had managed to book for myself. Patna - Ranchi - Mumbai - Bangalore. 

While I found myself agitated at the first break of journey at Ranchi itself - the sight of Mahendra Singh Dhoni boarding the same filght and swiftly settling into his seat did act a a pleasant distraction - for me and for the rest of the flanneled fools like me aboard that plane. 

Maybe I too, like the others, should have gone up and taken a picture with him. Wonder why, but for once, I just settled for a mental picture (like Kaka's mental Instagram) and patiently completed the remainder of the journey - one song at a time - thinking about life, universe and everything - and the tomorrow - settling back in the work routine - and

getting back to being the busy and the tired and the pursuer and the pursued.

 ****************************************************************************

Do not read between the lines.

Rights to exaggeration and bragging reserved.

Its not how it happened; its how you remember it.

No characterisation intended

Data and information may have been skewed to suit the storyline

Everything is relative to your perspective

This is where stupidness begins - 'Cottonmouth' Kaka

30 Days Of Summer

The burn this summer

Of tender love

Like skillet on stove

Left on my finger

The fading ink

We nomore 'Blink'

And some memoirs

Captured and clicked

In things we flicked

'You. Are. Awesome.'

Said, drunken recorded calls

The reply, always, "Balls!"

Early escapes from work

Thurs and Fri

Fleeting kiss, hug you bye

0/10: my answers failed

But found victory step

In every 'yep - yep'

Damn! ..its over too soon

Left a lot to express

The Jungle Book, the Panda, the Lioness.

**************************************************

Similar to this: To Draw A Song

Disclaimer:

Do not read between the lines.

Rights to exaggeration and bragging reserved.

Its not how it happened; its how you remember it.

No characterisation intended

Data and information may have been skewed to suit the storyline

Everything is relative to your perspective

#Chatak

This Time That Year

This post is split

Year by year

Four way

A Mumbai post long overdue

And the one with the RedBay

One on why they call me Sangam

Then some songs of yesterday

***

2009

Everyone goes through that normal amount of ambition-shifting : from an astronaut(!) at 10 to an engineer(?) at 20. (And a musician, a sportsperson, a traveller, a photographer, a writer and 203 other such hobby professions in between).

As my first semester in college drew closer to its end, I was head to toe into music. A burst of zeal propelled me into trying to compose my own songs. Joined with one extremely talented Raikom Terang, we plunged into it. 

We wrote about love (what else!) and made ourselves proud by actually coming up with a couple of songs. Its only now that we realise how stereotyped, cheesy and patchy the lyrics were. But we were sure we were doing cool stuff. And in truth they did have a few catchy elements. They aren't the type that will make you go wow or repeat listen like we do to most great songs. They might even make your ears bleed. Still, that was us, and if it gave us nothing, yet a hell lot of memories - about songs which send me literally ROFLing even though they were meant to be dead serious (O love! O heartburns!).

So taking the utter risk of being ridiculed, being compared to Justin Beiber/One Direction or even being pointed towards gayish overtones, I will share 3 of them here.

1. My Starry Sky

We thought we would soon have enough to compile an album. But then in the second semester we had laptops and LAN and DC++. Guitars lay untuned in the corner with spiders adding their strings onto them.
I had started a song with another immensely talented dear friend Shreyans 'God' Gupta. (Yes, you need talented friends or these pilot projects never quite become flight worthy). I wrote the lyrics but never followed up. In the end he came up with the following all by himself.

2. Chasing Butterflies

Among the several unfinished ones, I and Raikom did close one more before the bubble finally burst.

3. Without You Its Not Easy

***

2010
A lot of things may change a girls's mind. Gangajal isn't one of them.
God, miracle, whatever you might associate to its range of powers - it didnt work for me. But it did manage to bind me (in what would later become a curious case of self-Chatak*) with a name so stuck that now the same Gangajal cannot wash it off.
Well, I should have thought of it before disappearing, without letting anyone know, midway through a quiz to get a bottle of holy Ganges from the shores of Sangam in Allahabad.
I am the one, who for once, betrayed the paramount love of quizzing for a passing crush.
I am Sangam.
:D :P

*Simply put, chatak refers to any and every, animate or inanimate, object or event, having the potential to divert one's thoughts towards an old crush.
It is said to follow you/find you everywhere. (*citation needed)
Usage limited to the group that conceived it. Time series analysis of chatak leading to reverse-chatak and evolvement into Fuchuk are yet to be declassified.

***

2011
Actually this was in early 2012 (and not 2011 but lets just keep the flow :D ).
People saw the three of us leaving and they thought we were off to yet another quiz quest. For once we weren't. For the first time, we were travelling because we just wanted to. Unplanned.
If you, all of a sudden, decide to leave Ranchi for any other place, I bet you are a lot likely to end up in Kolkata. We did. But so that it doesn't become too mainstream, we zeroed in on a local beach town - Digha.

We found ourselves a dingy little room (for Rs. 25 per day for 3 people). The night was an experience in itself. Other than the mortal combat with mosquitoes that night, I remember the long stroll from one end of the beach to the other, the redbays (knockoff shades supposed to be raybans which would later lend its name to our every collaborated quiz related venture), the ride to Orissa on a motorised thela and wandering through Kolkata the next day in which travelled by the ferry, the tram, the local bus (which took us to south sinthee instead of south city) and the metro (to get back to south city). And before boarding the train back we scoured through the Park street looking for one tiny little four stringed fantasy. We succeeded, and kids, thats how I met my Ukulele.

***

2012

We were there, sitting by the marine drive, when the Mayans were proven wrong. It was past 12 and it was December 21st. The doomsday had failed to cut our holiday short. And Kaka made the full use of it. He completed all rides of Essel World and Water Kingdom in one single day! And then watched Dabangg 2 and the Hobbit back to back!!

We were there for Mood Indigo (and the accommodation searching troubles that it saved). The stay was eventful. The very way in which 10 of us aligned ourselves while sleeping in that room provided was a thing to wonder. A little bit of Kullu was introduced into the equation and the rest was all chaos. More so with a flute in Shanky's hand. (Why did we have a flute? Before asking that you should ask why we had a bongo and a ukulele as well.)

Then there was the strange case of 'The Division Bill'. As its the case in long trips, people pay for one another, and then they pay back, here in one particular McD bill division, all of us ended paying for our food and then as return change somehow managed to get all our money back. Who actually paid that night? The mystery remains unsolved.

Perhaps we forgot about it when we withnessed a full blown back alley brawl - totally bollywood style punching and kicking. All in front of a bar where we went to get ourselves a few beer cans. We thought it wise to be back on our 12.40 ki last local (apparently there was no 1.40 ki last local as a not so popular movie had me believing).

Local train traveling had become a habit on the first day itself. We usually escaped the dreaded crowd except on the way back from Boriveli on the last day. We literally hung out from the door until Dadar. 

All things done and dusted, this one phrase still remains fresh to the day. Often, when one of us knows that he had too much to drink, the following words would take form:

'Agla Station: Bhandup'

***************************************************************************

Rights to exaggeration and bragging reserved.
Its not how it happened; its how you remember it.
No characterisation intended.
Data and information may have been skewed to suit the storyline.
Everything is relative to your perspective.