Year: 2021

THE ORIGIN : Thank you all my co-travellers. The Foundation of a Happy Life- Last Post of 2021

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I have been talking to myself ever since I remember. And having a photographic memory I remember myself well; doing, playing, observing being as young as 1 year old, i remember a lot of things. And this listening, seeing, ultra observing of actions, reactions, relating, co-relating, correcting them, learning from what didn’t go right, or what did, the tone and sounds in a language, feelings; I am always well aware of each happening, every vibration that I receive or give. It is pure grace, a blessing. Namaste. Another blessing had been this blog, Road to Nara : My travels as a Yogi and the family that it has provided me. Each and every soul of you. To tell you, It has saved me from something, I do not know what but very important something. I even did not know till now that I could sustain writing, or that I can write this much. Road to Nara became my road to come back to myself, so many memories I have lived in my lifetime, so many …

A Tale of the King Rooster, The Birdman and a Cat: Saving Rasool’s Bird Park in Lake Dal, Kashmir.

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On a drive to make this man live. Continuing from Remember me with a Lotus: Memoirs of Heaven and Birds in Kashmir and Help Save the Birdman of Kashmir: A Fundraiser : ँ : Even though Rasool’s favourite rooster died in old age but his death was not natural. By the time he died, the deepest virtue he attained was patience. And carried the Curiosity of a crow. He was a fighter Cock. And is remembered for his last fight that he fought with the heaviest spy cat on Dal Lake in Kashmir. The cat would start swimming as soon as the sun would set, from the foothills of the Shankaracharya temple crossing Dal and coming to the backyard of Rasool’s houseboat named Abu and Sheeba. It was said that it was she who inspired a line of dogs to cross the lake to find newer avenues to hunt and eat. But being a cat she would come and take all her time to roam and plan in the longer run her future homes. It …

Help Save the Birdman of Kashmir. Save Rasool : A Fundraiser

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Some of you may remember Rasool. My guardian, and the one who brought Kashmir to me. I had written about him more than a few times. But for the ones who might not have heard about this Birdman, this magic man, must read this first. Remember me with a Lotus: Memoirs of Heaven and Birds in Kashmir But if you have skipped and are reading this. Let me please request you to meet him first yourself. You must have known that for some time i had been meaning to do something for Rasool. Not because i must but more because his life is more important than most. As he knew, he understood how valuable, how important others lives are. He loved, protected and cared for the lives of those who were left to fend for themselves. He saved the birds and all nature beings as his own. For me, to find his work and a small bird park in a region marred by Bullet sounds and all kind of violence was a revolution in itself. …

Jyoti Bhatt : A Tribute to a Living Legend : A Photographic Essay on Rural Gujarati Indian Life(1971-1987)

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Today, he is 87 and I will only wish that somehow a film compiling his works, his life, no matter however directed, should come out before we lose all of it. His experiences of that time and era must be recorded.

Days in the Hidden Valley of Mandal and a Small trek to Ma Anusuyadevi Temple : A Photographic Essay- III

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While studying culture and ancient practises in the Higher Himalayas.Continuing from Pandava Forest and the Brahma Kamal : The Nights of Change in the Himalayas and Finding Brahma Kamal : On a Rainy night from Delhi to Chamoli : ँ : Sumanto was waiting by the roadside, in front of the fisheries department. It was late in the night, very late by the mountain ways of life. Yet the most relieving part was that i wasn’t alone. With me was the last government bus, which i had to run after, in Rudraprayag to catch it. Had it not been that moment, i wouldn’t be making it even in my 30th hour of leaving New Delhi. It was cold. It was heavy. The restrain of the night, one which arrives after many days of rain. The climatic depression could still be felt. I could hear the droplets dropping off the leaves as I could hear myself heaving. The bus stopped. I bid byes to the driver, the conductor as i had been the only one riding …

FINDING Brahma Kamal: The Divine Flower Seat of Brahma: On a Rainy Night from Delhi to Chamoli- II

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While studying culture and ancient practises in the Higher Himalayas. Continuing from Pandava Forest and the Brahma Kamal : The Nights of Change in the Himalayas : ँ : Who would have known that a journey which merely started in documenting the culture of the mountains will end in a never-ending quest of finding the way to my own being. May be this is what Living in general teaches us. Like Googly in Cricket. Guruji and I came back to his home. It was cold and only a bulb far was filling the mountain home with some light. He stood for a while without speaking, almost waiting for the words to arrive. That mountain Narayan, that slope lead the last Pandava to Heaven, with a dog. We were seeing it together, in the dark. The tip of it shining, because moon was raining that night. And that is where you will find the Lotus of Brahma; a whole valley of flowers up there surrounds the divine flower; because they too revere it. They want to …

Pandava Forest and the Brahma Kamal: The Nights of Change in the Higher Himalayas – I

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But before finding Brahma Kamal, Nara had to go through the forests where Pandavas once roamed. Pandavas!   The mighty heros of the Indian Epic, Mahabharata. Who after defeating the Kauravas, after slaying their own uncles, brothers, friends in a battle that went on for 18 days, not night. The rule was to rest and sleep in the night; until Pandava’s sons were murdered. The rage from there onwards became the reason to kill; not merely win. The carnage started then. Pandavas killed each Kaurava till the last count one by one. It was a bitter victory. Pandavas went on to rule for 36 years. But the guilt of killing their own kept breathing in their minds. Pride over the years melt into feeling sinful. As sharp pangs of remorse led the Pandavas to leave their kingdom they had won; leaving their worldly clothes, ornaments, and even their weapons; to find eternal peace, to attain Moksha. It was during this search on their way to heaven, while walking for years in the mountains; numerous stories, …

When a wedding arrived Magically in Rajasthan

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It was a time of peerless freedom. I was a young Yogi travelling with a backpack, pen, diary and a camera travelling through villages, walking on the mud roads of rural India, in search of stories. I had just finished a two-day assignment for an Indian magazine, documenting the popular cattle fair that took place around the ancient temple site of Pushkar. And while at it I had learnt that after this fair in the ancient city of Brahma, the camels will travel for weeks on road through the desert and forests, crossing the oldest hill range on earth, the Aravalli to take part in another fair, hundreds of miles down the western coast in the Rann of Kutch in Gujarat. I wanted to find that route and travel with them, with the camel tribes documenting, and writing about this beautiful, unusual journey. But on my way, I couldn’t find any transport, which could have taken me to the state highway, from where I could find the travelling camels. It was night and I had …