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New Beginnings

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DAY 1

Yesterday father retired from his services after serving the government for thirty five years. He had organized a party which came out to be as good as if its someone’s wedding. For me It has not only been a teaching but it has been overwhelmingly inspiring to experience his intensity. And in later years how to start preparing your mind and executing various aspects of it efficiently. As efficiency is directly proportional to mind. The speed and clarity with which we could see his effortless involvement in all matters life showed his evolution. The last ten years had been the hardest of all, as he said during his speech. Travelling for over 50 kilometers in the early hours across Delhi is not cool by any standards; more so when you live only to teach. One’s mind has to be preserved of such log and ardous travels to take care of the biggest government school of delhi with a whopping numbers of students studying, approx.. 2300. Yet whatever came his way, he transformed it and passed through hard times almost patiently with determination.

Last one week has been such, I couldn’t set my mind to do anything. Moreover As I had anticipated, in anxiety and other things, nothing happened.  It feels such a waste of energy , time and putting beautiful relationships to hard times. It was not right. It is never right. The girl family did not arrive, which my father was so sure about.

Past week took a toll on mind and time, diverting in some unrelated activities. I couldn’t finish the draft of The Capital. Yet I kept noting down and imagining how characters can unfold.

I and chatterjee decided to meet at 5 in the morning. Retirement party wrapped up by 1230 and I could only sleep as early by 0130. I slept deep and woke up by myself around 0440. Waking up for The Capital was like finally the journey is starting today. But it did not take off until 9. Chatterjee couldn’t get up on time. It was last day of the chatt. He arrived when every women must have gone back home. I took bath and went to the gym instead. It felt good because there was no one apart from one unknown person and another man whom I like.

It went well beside looking at the watch and wishing for a sleeping person to get up. Delhi had been under a smoke siege and I wanted to get every possible image I could. When Chatterjee arrived I tried to be as natural as I could, suppressing the feeling of morning light loss and helplessness. I had thought of shooting women performing rituals. When we arrived at Bhalaswa, the labourers were folding the pink tents. The man was walking standing on the tallest iron stairs as extended legs.

Any habitable land on earth cannot be more toxic, visibly dark and polluted than what we are experiencing. While taking a shot I had asked chatterjee to go down to the sugarcane field and shoot walking through the field which was covered in dust and smog carpeted over the colony houses in the distance. Chatterjee stepped down and the first step that he placed on the land gave way to the muddy black water and he kept going down till he pulled himself out of it. My hand was on my mouth but I could stop laughing after it was all over. It was the second consecutive time his shoes have drowned in the filthiest of water on the first day of both the shoots. But  Over all the first day went slowly and happily. We were able to create few possibilities, and one which can completely change the way you look at the imagery of the Capital. If in the following month we are able to pull that off, it will take us and the film or Delhi to newer realms.

End of first day. Very tired.
2210 hours. 3.11.19

Ways to Grow

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A checklist to get you started—you can either do the same thing or a different thing…

More of the same

Persist

Get the word out

Doing something different

Change an element of what you do

Raise your prices

Lower your prices

Make it better

Tell a different story

Serve a different customer

Enter a new segment

Change the downstream effects of your work

Earn trust

Make bigger promises

Organize

Get better clients

Do work that matters to someone

Vandy and her Wonders

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Day 6

I called Vandy again, out of love. To show our solidarity, that school is behind you, that we are with her in this hour of anxiety and need. We had already planned couple of prayers for her and a few things that might have helped her. But some things hit you like a sweet surprise that can only be expressed in a dismissive laugh. It was Vandy who was imagining that it could be Blood Cancer that might have reached her lungs but it was in her f imagination !! Nothing’s proven, no such reports have come out, its just that she thought it could be so. So, as of now it is pleasingly relieving to hear something like that.

I read and wrote the points down all noon and evening. It is giving a sinking feeling one day after other as i am walking towards somewhere i have never walked. I hope i am able to create something of value. I will be meeting Abhishek tomorrow and i hope i get him onboard. We had enjoyed immensely when we worked together 3 years ago, and the time has come again, more testing than before and is going to be lengthier than it ever was. In all totality this is zero. Me and my surroundings

The day of the U-Turn

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Winters had started settling in Leh. I used to get up the earliest, take the coldest shower from the waters of Indus. For at least half a day to come, my peace with that.

I was making tea when i heard Cynthia, singing. An old American woman who had been teaching in Leh for last 29 years. From the US, she arrived each winter to teach Laddakhi students. I offered Cynthia Tea. She said “I am sorry, I am still not Indian’ and laughed out loud. And asked me to come up and look at the old lines on her table.

The table had a beautiful map. And this map sounded fulfilling. It had a path along the river Indus, that left the road way down and lead one to an ancient looking narrow canyon. She suggested, I must take that. And then without asking walk for an hour or two to the village called TAR. There lives my best friend; 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 my way back to Leh. A blinker of a turn and I almost threw myself under a truck. If you are here reading, and have ever come close to feel a bump just before a possible death, well i was so close that in those moments I whispered to myself inside that helmet, okay! I am here, but then i don’t know how i just slid past the big tires. It was a warning, scary warning and will keep in check for upcoming few days on the my ride to the border roads.

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An old image of my north-Indian bike journey on my good old Pulsar

Those days many things were going on in head, as UT was a new thing for the region things were not in place. I remember i took a U-turn because if i did not get the inner permit signed, i would be trapped in let for another 3 days with motorcycle meter ticking on each day.

I straight away rode to the permit office and got the stamp for Hanle. It is one of the remotest areas in Southern Ladakh. It’s getting colder every day and Hanle will just be a like horses sitting on wind. Almost 250 kilometres from leh, reaching Hanle in a day is going to be one long journey. The only way I know I can enjoy it, is by making the most evoking memories, images and film ever to have come from a human from that place, more so words. There will be something I ll take back home for the world before I conclude this long story forever.

Many lines on my land

It’s Mr. Modi’s birthday tomorrow. I wish him from my bed here. And it’s my birthday the day after. It may happen that i will be beyond the towers of the corporates for next three days. But if I am not. I will see you again with some more words.

As for Cynthia’s map. I have a plan 🙂

Nara : x

One day win and other days Out

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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 when other artists left I got up annoyed and in haste or subdued anger or helplessness just before i had planned everything for the journey, i sat up and positioned myself in Padmasana. All went dark. My nervous system collapsed it seemed. The whole body, from the tip of the toe to up and into my eyes either went all white or blank dark that I could not see a thing with my eyes open. It happened within 100 seconds of my waking up first thing in the morning. In the approaching winter silence of Leh, lying on my wooden bed I remember asking myself, what is happening? I breathed deep and pressed my knee and remembered RICE. Yes rice. The same knee, the same part got injured four months ago because of an idiot in Kashmir who while coming downhill on a scooty told me there are no brakes brother. yes he said brother in the end. A week in the houseboat since that incident RICE came to help.

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Indus in the evening outside Leh, Laddakh

RICE: Rest Ice Compression and Elevation. I went down slowly limping and washed my face. Things gradually started to feel better.

In the kitchen Cynthia welcomed me with her high pitched morning that some birds sitting would have heard. She asked me to join with Priya over tea. Priya arrived late, as she lost her way. Anyways, not her fault, It’s no easy to reach here where we are for sure. For next three hours I learnt what Cynthia has been doing for women and disabled children in Laddakh for past twenty five years. She told me and Priya about most villages and nomadic tribes trying hard to get their kids to the best english speaking public schools who are ripping off all the pride they might have had kept in their families. When kids come out there is a race to show and be the best westerner as that is the epitome of social hierchy. And more depressingly about the status of women and the hopelessness in young girls who can’t even let anything out, any expressions, or feelings due to societal norms unlike boys who are running haywire, riding bikes, going on trekking, playing etcetera.

Talking with Cynthia opened many other possibilities of first of all, not riding to as far as Hanley, instead move around villages and tribes living under 70-100 kilometres circumference. I ll decide that after assessing what Cynthia provides me with tomorrow.

Afternoon I rode outside Leh for a bit but bike isn’t that much fun. Bullet would have been just perfect. But as they say beggars can’t be choosers.

Intuition is indicating towards a coming change. It must be right. Let’s follow the gut.

The leg behaved well after the morning incident yet the body needs to be attended to now. One key to start is: breathing deep.

Amarnath in the times of article 370

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Even after thinking about doing something daily, one ends up doing it, achieving it, finishing it only in the head. In the head is good, as it creates enough compound interest in head but it is not good enough.

I have had ups and downs, and have been away from home for some time. I was in Kashmir when article 370 was taken off. I was one of the last person to have trekked the majestic Amarnath ji this year. Without any plan or any inclination to have wanted to do it but surrendering to flow of life is such it takes you along on the paths, and you would enjoy. I fell in love with the harmony of the few people who walked along, some saints barefoot, and two without a leg who finished approximately sixty kilometres in as many days as I did. Food, sweets, tea, love and the name of shiva.

But the feeling was erratic even then. Tents, people were leaving a month before. And many had already left. The way was completely empty of any pilgrim coming from the other side. Probably that also made it count. It was quiet and you walked with your own self, slowly, quietly.

Phone lines and internet was called off a day after I arrived back home in Srinagar. I couldn’t get time to make any arrangements of leaving as it had become intense to stay over. It was a very vulnerable time in the valley and who knows what is going on even now. It took me nine more days to come out of the valley. I found a punjabi driver from Jammu early in the morning almost ready to leave. It was a beautiful morning over Dal. You could see clouds gathering over the ancient waters and over the Mahadev hill. The way back was as tense. We were stopped numerous times even before Banihal came, because on the other side, you would not imagine how many trucks, cadres, were filling in the valley. Testing time for a government who had just arrived three weeks ago and even before anyone could have blinked on something as mammoth an article as 370, which had probably made Kashmiri’s, laddakhis, Pandits, Punjabis as special and as vulnerable of their identity for all these decades after independence.

I had worked myself as a researcher and teacher in the border villages, in the most gruesome winters and thus have an idea of how the minds of local authorities work in contention and sometimes not in harmony with the army. How people can never almost challenge the claims and information that these authorities gather.

Things are bound to change.

I am sitting in a mud room in the outskirts of Laddakh. Writing after so long on my blog even though I wrote it daily in my head. I hope I present myself daily. Because this blog is not for me. This is for you. And if you are reading this right now, you may let me know.

Two weeks have passed. Two weeks are to come. The nights have become colder. Laddakh has been very kind. It’s the land of awakening. I came here in 2007 on my bike when rivers still went through roads. And somebody then had told me the full form of Leh that I took seriously then but I have never forgotten it. Life Ends Here. Or it starts again.

I am working on my first photo book here. On the work that I did in Cambodia. I will share more news soon but before all that comes out, I will be hitting the road again. May be to Zanskar, or may be to meet my children again to the village I taught 8 years ago.

Till then,

A very warm hello to you all again.

Data in to useful Truth

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It takes discernment to do this.

Most problems don’t require more data. They require more insight, more innovation and better eyes.

Information is what we call it when a human being takes data and turns it into a useful truth.

Long work verses hard work

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Long work is what a lawyer who bills 14 hours a day filling in forms does.

Hard work is what the insightful litigator does when she synthesizes four disparate ideas and comes up with an argument that wins the case–in less than five minutes.

Long work has a storied history. Farmers, hunters, factory workers… Always there was long work required to succeed. For generations, there was a huge benefit that came to those with the stamina and fortitude to do long work.

Hard work is frightening. We shy away from hard work because inherent in hard work is risk. Hard work is hard because you might fail. You can’t fail at long work, you merely show up. You fail at hard work when you don’t make an emotional connection, or when you don’t solve the problem or when you hesitate.

I think it’s worth noting that long work often sets the stage for hard work. If you show up enough and practice enough and learn enough, it’s more likely you will find yourself in a position to do the hard work.

It seems, though that no matter how much long work you do, you won’t produce the benefits of hard work unless you are willing to leap.

The School for Life : Project Education for Children and the Self

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In 1997, the organisation opened a primary school for children coming from the nearby community for the underprivileged. It happened over a period of time and several requests from the women who kept coming for the skill development programme at Nari Jagran Shakti, and kept requesting for a study room directed towards learning.

Since, there was no education system in place in the neighborhood and children seemed to be going nowhere, we decided to establish an education collective on the footsteps of the age old Gurukul Shiksha Method in sync with the much needed contemporary English medium education.

2.May

Brilliant Public School thus took shape into an endeavouring initiative, and it has been the only most important part of my growing up years. I learnt seeing my mother running, caring to build an education based community for woman and children motivated by the ideals of Rani Jhansi.

Later when i took to teaching while travelling in remote areas of my country, i was motivated as much to do and create such avenues for children in arts and education. Learning while teaching, travelling in these areas motivated and inspired me to continue and carry on the work of my mother.

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CRPF personals showcasing self defence techniques at school premises

In 2020, the school continues to work towards the upliftment of children coming to school from the community of underprivileged families like Vegetable sellers, Rickshaw pullers, nearby shop keepers also including families from modest backgrounds.

In last few years, we have tried to include arts, literature and ancient Indian methods to develop ones inner health and mind to meet the diverse educational need of the Capital and our country.

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Hundreds of children who have gone through our school, and we are proud to announce it, have come back and involved themselves in more ways than one in day to day life at school. Helping younger generation developing them as debaters, organisers and artists.

I grew up here. I grew up seeing growth happening each and everyday. It was a study in itself. A life long learning. I attribute my everything to this education system that was founded in my own home.

8.November

Anyone who in coming weeks, months or years comes across this post, must know that we are always on a look out for someone who is happy and wants to share a bit of his/her joy with children and women. Ones who are carrying colors, words, artists, illustrations, designs, Photographs, films, theatre plays and the ones in academics are wholeheartedly welcome. They must come and teach to learn; to share with the ones who in years coming should be the ones passing on.

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Hence said, there are few aims that our school work towards

1. World is a family, and thus to respect friends, elderly and animals equally.

2. Being a small school, we look after children personally and during the process we make sure to awaken a few basic tendencies in them like questioning rationally on actions in regards with the betterment and upliftment of society they are a part of.

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We try to show various films- animated, graphic, spiritually elevating ones monthly , call theatre friends to spare sometime to give them invaluable life lessons on storytelling skills on stage and otherwise.

In years coming we would like to continue educating, moreover transform our learning methods focusing on all round development of a student.

Brilliant Public School was founded in 1997 with around eight children on the first day.

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On the final day with my 2012 class in the northern-most and remotest Indian region of Baltistan.

: ँ :

Thank you.

If today is the first time you have arrived on The Road to Nara, you are heartily welcome ~ Namaste

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I will take this opportunity to introduce you to About me and importantly,

As a co-traveller, share my Ten Lessons I learnt from several years on the road, before you coarse on your own Road to Nara.

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If you have anything to share, or feel like saying a hello, please feel free to write to me at lotusofnara@gmail.com

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Jacky the Panther

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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.

Planets find a well

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The four rounds around fire and seven complexities. Sound of a marble like play of a mystic. Gaya left us to Kali and Logar. We moved around the Bodhi tree nine times and collected mud from the nine planets. We found a well and gave to the water some part rice, rawa and Lentils. Later while spreading mud around the bhairavi tree Maharaj found a small sculpture of Jesus. He laughed and kept it with him quietly.

The leaves are falling. It is quiet again.

The story of Venus and the Running girls

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Today was shukra. Shukravar. A day of Venus. Shiva ate shukra, and so he became Shiva himself. That only meant that there is no shukra or Venus but the light of shiva through his shukranu/sperms/rays.

From far I saw the same crane limping around Kali. Squirrels and other birds went about eating and devastating the plants with much more aggression then previous days.

Japam has been similar but effect will only be seen days after. Gayatri is as pure as mangla’s milk but time is now to dig in and change the course to attain a smile. Get on.

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Shukra/Friday and Shani/Satuday passed by. Last night winds are lashed anything that they crossed. Felling many a bucket full of leaves. As soon as the morning arrived a girl started running down from a mountain. She held onto the finger of Maharaj, who was coming closer and closer to her. But as she neared him, she started feeling dull, bereft of light. When she opened her eyes, she had no pupil in them. Maharaj’s eye had no pupil either. Four white eyes looking at each other, looked at me and ordered to sit and think lotus.

But what was her dream? What made her run?

Do not run. Number two or eleven. Lord Ganesha is the guardian of her doors. The doors are sixty four.

Jacky’s roar in the morning shook the future bed of yogis. Nobody walked or sat. They stood in awe and awareness. But the cows roamed free and the crows cawed more fiercely.

Over the prints of passing pasts I look signs that could have stopped me to look. But I looked at the thorn loaded mountain. Some tribal women, all with red blouses, smiling at me. Why?

One young girl who had mistakenly wore her blouse the other way. Cups at the back ran and hid herself behind the wall. I walked ahead. And bowed to after touching the highway.

Swaha / to the sun

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Slowly I have started smelling like fire. There is nothing more to feel one with the divine than this. Ash is all over my head, my clothes, my legs are bereft of a sole. Pouring Ice water every morning on head now seems a ritual. And the heat from the fire has become a family.

Is it because of these squirrels that i have started listening to? Or that bird in the morning quietness who comes sits by my bed in the darkness of the dawn? Something will change. It seems to be initiating something and directing somewhere i cannot know just now. Hear hear they say. Hear till your eyes see the light.

Mangla and her magical milk

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Mangla’s milk has been the best thing to happen in this sea ashram. But today even before I could taste it, Logar brought Papaya for the first time and we prepared shake for every one.

I closed the dhuni myself today when Maharaj ji retired after keeping the planets outside out of rat fear. He seemed tired. We called different goddesses around sunset and went outside the premises along the foothills to buy rabbits for Gayatri. Later when we came back, Manavendra was sitting on his horse called gambler over the Thorn hill. For the night we were invited to a home where several varieties of food was being prepared. When we reached, a woman whose face I forgot as soon I met her as i kept looking only at her nose pin. She told me my caste, and while drinking the papaya shake left from the morning, asked me to slow down. Me?

When i woke up in the night even though i didn’t have to, a man was seen going away from me towards the fields and onto the mountain. Dhuni was alive and fire had come out of it. I got up and placed it right back. When I went to sleep again, the day arrived just then. Maharaj opened his eyes from meditation and told me about the story of three feathers. One was of the swan, second one of the eagle and that one, the most sacred of all the orange one, of an owl.

Look closely at the sky today.

Yantram

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Sleep felt like a burden. The sun was about to come when we began the fire today. Tarot was interesting in the morning but I don’t remember if any concretisation happened today as was predicted. We decorated the nine planets but birds, squirrels and their friends made it their personal food plates. We kept restoring it almost all day long. Running after them, making faces, sounds but they seem to be not taking us seriously. I drew the yantra with saffron on the ancient tree paper.

Late noon we trekked to the Hinglaj devi temple to find cactuses all around our way. We sat there long looking at the setting sun. And found ourselves humming the sound of the universe till it started getting dark. I felt somehow that this could be my last visit to the cave on this journey. I found three white marbles and placed them such that they immediatly turned holy.

In the sky a rocket left a line of shooting stars. It bisected the wires over a field which had no lake but possessed it’s name.

Hear well. And stop having sweet sweetie. It’s time.

Hardest work is to love

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It was a day of hardest work. Hardest work is to love. While when love being not what you are seeking. The sound of train passes far like they are in a hurry. Trains are always in a hurry unless you are sitting in one of them. Indian Railways.

It was dark when I got up. I didn’t see any dream may be because my head is towards the mother and eyes towards the tree.

We made nine planets today on mud kept of square wooden boards. filled them first with numbers and later with rice and colourful lentils. We couldn’t finish it as squirrels started eating them.

A young mataji came with a beautiful girl from a city. She ate peanuts and soon went to sleep in the library.

Maharaj came with milk that we shared and logar got a mobile. And the drums were not beaten for the first time tonight.

The neem Tree

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Its time to sleep. And Logar starts beating the drum again tonight.

May be he does it for mangla, the cow. But then there is no need for that. Or may be to warm himself up. It is cold. Or most probably and i feel this could be the reason, to keep Jacky, the panther away from the cows.

Its windy. Neem tree under which we sleep showers its old leaves on us all night. In the morning we went towards the field and started digging. The mud that we got was put into a copper plate and then was under the same tree. On it we placed a copper snake and twelve different coloured stones in the direction of the water.

Maharaj went to the temple on the mountain. I, and the guy whose dream is to mine a mountain started putting the clay in the direction of the planet’s movement. But they wobble. Even though the energy is needed to pour in them, the vital breath but we shall see tomorrow when maharaj will wake up. Night came and Logar started beating drums.

Next day we went around the circular home to find wood instead found two calves. They were extremely happy and ran like jumping deers.

It is quite now after people became high of singing too much. But once Jacky roared, whole ashram turned meditative and did not pray or talked about any other thing than Jacky’s roar and his never happened stories.

Finally, I changed my position of sleep. Now I can see the neem tree when I wish.

As of now wind is talking and neem is listening.

Arrival of the ancient mountains

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In the night a train came. In it was an engine sleeping above Maharaj. So loud was his snore that I started going from bed to bed but to only kept get up enquiry after enquiry.

In the morning as the sun rose, Aravalis were seen passing.

Winters seemed gone, the moment I poured ground water on my head at four in the morning in February. A mountain starts from behind the ashram. And holds in him a panther they call Jacky. Jacky is popular and so much that he has come in the premises for if the cows go munching in the night.

Me and Maharaj went to the Hinglaj temple and sang songs for two hours after we had food.

I saw mangla while coming down and went near her to comb her stomach. During that time I learnt few new things about shukra and shiva, Shani and Vikramaditya.

There is one Banayan, one neem, a library and enough blankets under the open sky. Rathore’s Kuladevi is Mata Nageahwari.

Lights are out but logar is beating a drum.

I love Mangla.

Arrival of Maharaj

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Threads of cotton. Some new event had to happen. A long day in motion. Paris. Not patparganj but Indirapuram came. Maharaj wore mehroon clothes and did not open his eyes till the time food arrived. He said nothing. He asked nothing. He saw nothing. He just sat with his eyes closed.

But the moment food arrived he started singing the songs of Krishna. It was an auspicious day. Mother was waiting. For moon. She will eat but then she will be looking at the stars first.

Instead Rain came. And I left home for many days to come.

Play a sport

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Many a times when body starts feeling the temperature, it starts affecting every other small action, as simple as interaction. But there is one thing that has worked for me since my teenage years. Every time I felt tired or exhausted. When body felt like breaking up, lethargy, uneasiness or just plainly feeling low crept up. I always called up a friend and played a sport. Probably sweating it out, screaming, shouting and expressing every other emotion that comes with it.

I learnt playing Table tennis only a few years ago and since then it has only added dimensions the way my body reacts while moving, watching the spin of the ball, or the moment when you know it has to be smashed. It has always been an exciting mix of playing serves with different arms of various nationalities and minds. It has made conversations start and built observations. It is as good as chess and as fast as instinct.

I lost four games out of seven today but by the time it ended, my body ache was gone. That strange sensation around my cheek bone was gone, temperature left for good and it allowed me to sit for an extra hour of editing. I was feeling light.

Play an indoor sport. Learn it. You will be surprised by some friends that you will make or earn along the way.

Shoes and the Sage

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After forty four days, I arrived home. Home is wherever mother lives.

When I was leaving, the only thing i desired on the 43rd day, was to buy good walking shoes. I had even spent a good second half of that evening trying to find anything likeable.

The ones i was wearing now, a pair of black trekking shoes; i had bought them four months ago in early August. Even though there is nothing as such like over-walking in the mountains, but by the time I finished my journey in the Himalayas, they seemed done. Any ways I could not find new shoes and at last left India with the same black ones.

I traveled around Thailand and more so for a month long work-fellowship in Cambodia. From there I flew back to Kolkata and while spending my ninth evening in Kashi on Assi Ghat I met an old man whom I felt kept looking at my black shoes. As I followed his gaze and later his worn out feet. I walked up to him and said, winters are here and so is Kumbh. He smiled.

These forty days were exhausting and exhilarating. Travelling and experiencing newer yet similar culture countries, to be working amongst thirty different nationalities in Siem Reap and getting blessed to work on the legendary Sin Sisamuth. To be able to see Cambodia’s country side and cycling along finding sisamuth’s songs filled in my heart and ears.

To be traveling back from countries where I couldn’t eat much, to Varanasi was like blessing from Annapurna, and today mother. Feeling her breath, her warmth, her smile and her Chai.

Happy new Year to you all. May you receive care and color in your life.

There is only so much to do, to look forward to, to love and to write every single day of my life here.

Let’s get on the boat.

🙂

The dip

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Sometimes one dip changes your smile and temperature. It takes you then to places that can only be created in dreams through memories ofcourse. You walk long looking at forms, colours, patterns, walls, speculating age, sounds of children and cows, of burning dead trees and water ripples, hearing bodies visually and later language.

Sometimes a small reaction changes the whole tail of events. Sometimes the start was the only end.

But the dip is important. Because that is a window to nature. And nature is inside.

I will let the story find me

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Left my red bed today. Made coffee for the other two. For myself I had cashews, raisins, walnuts four each, early in the morning. I first thought to go cycling but today it seemed well to sit and better prepare for the upcoming challenge. I washed myself fast and shaved in harmony. I was ready in time. I cut all the fruits and ate. Got to the new hotel where the workshop-residency will be taking place.

I got the first room by the pool. Didn’t want to stay that much upfront but it saved so much time that i can only feel blessed. I was saved from so much small and big talk, distractions that might have triggered further distractions. But all in all It was a privilege to come this far, meeting people who have been working in their preferred sense, in person sharing and making a world feel one and together again. It is rare for artists to come together and see each others work and ethics. And more so when, here in a country so rich in history and warm is hosting you to work on any story that you want is pure blessing. A workshop like this is also an opportunity to surrender and let the story find you. Because more so you go deep, finding the person, all vulnerabilities start unfolding themselves. And hence looking at everyone, it is true to see that we are similar in more ways than one.

Evening arrived rather fast and people started coming. I Spoke to Rafa. Even spoke to Hura by the end and artists who were invited from fifteen other countries. I even had food today after three days. It had been humid and pretty hot to be only eating fruits and shakes so as to not gain any carbs and essential fats.

I found out about an Indian restaurant at the pub street where i started going and soon discovered a few more along the streets. Indians are living here, quiet a few, and more probably in Pnom penh than Siem Reap. In the night i went to the river to sit but the moment i found a stone bench, i slept for an hour by the banks.

Later when everything got over Rafael and I went for a walk. He introduced me to lara , she cooked Chinese. I ate noodles for the first time ever-since I landed on southeast asian lands and well, liked very much. It was filling. Coming back to the hotel we.found the pool empty.and decided to jump.

The journey to finding a story or as i believe story finding me starts tomorrow.

From the white bed, first night in the white room.

Love is everywhere

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Cambodia has started to settle inside. It is hot. But Its winters here. Its Busy and Open. Moving slowly. Women from various countries as diverse as nature is are seen Smiling, enjoying. Much like Indian, Cambodians have a strong family sense.

Rafa, was the first person i met on this fellowship. He was also the first person to arrive in Cambodia. Second became I. He is a good man. As we sat talking with each other the first day after meeting he opened up like he cannot hide. Tears coming down from eyes. He told me he is divorced. And is a father of a young girl, Maya. We bonded most beautifully and talked about photography and the history of Angkor workshops and things to be seen around about in Cambodia.

I met a woman cycling, and found each other cycling to the river together. She is going through her divorce too. After documenting all day i got to a bar where i found a ping pong table. Ben with whom I played yesterday sat in gloom. It was a hugh dip in energy from last night. I walked up to him just to say hi. And we started speaking. He was in the English Navy. He told me that he had never been to the land of India but assured me that he thinks he spent three months way deep in Indian Ocean not far from India. The submarine he was a part of had some projects in that part of the world. He was the happiest as whatever he wanted was happening. And then then one day thaak! he angrily threw his fist on the bar table, I got hit by Psoriasis Vulgaris and boom ! Boom ! Psoriasis is a skin disorder that causes skin cells to multiply up to 10 times faster than normal. I could not sit, I could not sleep. I started looking ugly as hell, fat, cannot walk 100 metres. A guy from being the most active person to somebody who cannot walk to washroom. I was doing what I wanted to. took the smartest route, thought out of the box. I was going at a speed that out passed my peers, my friends, everyone around me was overwhelmed by my presence, everything great and then this ! I could not remain even myself. And nothing remained in my control.

Later Ben gave me a number of his close friend who is a tour guide. I was looking to go inside villages for my project. It was something to speak with Ben, not as a person only but to understand and realise the way things work in life. One can get all and the next moment something is taken from him he couldn’t think how.

South-east asia is beautiful and as homely as i feel in my country. I am eating less. Mostly not sure what to eat. I haven’t eaten any cooked food for two days now. And made friends with different fruit vendors.

Last day at the red bed built like columns here. Lights are out. Tomorrow will be all of us meeting together for the first time. Workshop starts tomorrow.

First Flight to Bangkok

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We are a few minutes away from entering into December. Most things if asked from the deepest alleys of transparent, unadulterated desires have a thing of becoming real. There is nothing more truer that that truth. You wouldn’t know it might be sneaking up on you. For me it took a few years, an slow ascending process that by the end bore memories for lifetime.

I am sitting in the big plane tonight. I am flying out of my country for the first time. Previously i only crossed them over by land. It should be special. Should it be special? Well, the process seems similar, of flying, of seeing people. Even though it took some time also because it couldn’t have been any other way. Currency’s exchanged. Dark chocolate bought. Immigration guy made a krow(krowdinya) out of my surname that which I could only smirk at. I don’t know why he was after surname. His only questions to me on the immigration desk was about the origin and history of my surname.

I do not know if it’s exciting. Its just plain as of now. The would be journey from Thailand to Cambodia seems more exciting to me than sitting on a plane like a cow munching, looking outside. Probably I will have to see it on the other side of sleep. Its been a long day. The big plane is filling up. It’s time to go.

Hello Bangkok.