All posts filed under: Road Journals

A Traveller’s philosophy for a kind World

Few years ago while swimming in the river Tungbhadra in Sringeri, I met an Indian data Scientist who had left his job in the US to work on the Indian River systems. As we spoke while floating in the river conversing about culture and civilization, it that time when i realized something very commonplace, and the impression of its true meaning changed something in me right there

Man’s search for meaning

When I returned to Ishbar that night, Shiban seemed speechless. But Dr Kaul looked at him with satisfaction giving an expression like “then he has seen.” And soon the moment came to explain to him what he had seen. We sat around fire, while waiting for the food to arrive. Open your ears, said Dr Kaul and he began speaking like reciting an over practised hymn. “The men in the east, he said, are trees; those in the south are flocks of animals; those in the west are wild plants. Last, those in the north like ourselves, who cried out while they ate other men, were the waters. When the collective sound of chewing filled the air, he started explaining about eating. The act of eating is a violence that causes what is living, in its many forms, to disappear. Whether grass, plants, trees, animals, or human beings, the process is the same. There is always a fire that devours and a substance that is devoured. This violence, bringing misery and torment, will one day …

The day of the U-Turn

I offered Cynthia Tea. She said “I am sorry, I am still not Indian’ and asked me to come up and look at the lines on her table. The table had a beautiful map. And this map sounded fulfilling. It had the river Indus, a path that will leave the road behind and lead to a narrow canyon. I must take that. And walk for an hour or two to the village of TAR where Cynthia’s best friend lives, in a cave like kitchen, where Ibex’s and snow leopards come sometimes to say hello. I left. In between late and very late. Almost not sure. Not excited. On my Himalayan. but something felt missing the whole day. More motivation! No. What had I thought and where am I leading myself to. The path seemed contrasting in my head. And Just before getting close to half the way to Chilling, I u-turned from a gorgeous bridge over Zanskar and rode back like I wasn’t riding. Faster, anxious as one gets after getting a temporary focus, on …

One day win and other days Out

The night was strange. It was a mix of sleeping deep and aware of some thing gone wrong. Two weeks were over in Leh. And as I had planned I got a bike for myself from Angchuk. I wanted to have a classic 350 but after the new UT status, government ordered the bike union to commercialise all the bikes or they’ll be seized. I got a Himalayan with me. While riding down to the narrow path of lama ji lane at upper changspa, something happened; the tendon, the tissue that joins the back part of the knee just went numb. For a moment i could not lend my weight on to my left leg. As I lied in bed in the night the pain was such nonsensical that I couldn’t straighten my leg, and if i even pushed and did, i could not bend it again. Throughout night as I moved from one position to other, I could feel the weight of my knee. Somehow i completed the task of sleeping. In the morning …

Jacky the Panther

World is the child of chaos or so it seems. Maharaj was expecting tea from a strange home when two bulls started sharpening their horns in front of an old white temple when a third one came. Tea was sweet. An old woman bowed to Maharaj and soon all including the bulls started walking in different directions. Jacky the panther roared all day so much that the sound became as usual as of crow’s to ears. I tried looking for him behind the Keekar trees but instead looked into my phone in front of the mountain on a real sun shine winter day. Jheeu came and complained about not getting his gun. I told him to cut some papaya and together we put pomegranate over it. By the time we could finish it Logar came laughing and told us he has fever.