Travelling with a celebrity..

During our previous return journey, my baby mused, “Kal mere saare friends mujhe dekhte hee daur kar aayenge, autograph lene ke liye.  Appa bhi aayega.” She also said that they would pull her cheeks to check if it was really Pakhi they were seeing or they were just imagining! They would have missed her so much!

It actually turned out that the friends really missed her.  With Pakhi not around, the other kids never actually play with each other, she acts as a binding agent in her group.

So I called my hubby tell him how I felt, travelling with a celebrity, which my baby thinks, she is!

These days most of my travels (even official) are with this little celebrity and she has witnessed a lot of dairy sector at near and far-fetched rural India.

Our first journey with this little monkey was the Homecoming itself.  We hired a car from Bhopal to Ujjain after a very affectionate Godd-Bharai ceremony at Matri Chhaya, where she spent the first few months of her life.   I had all my doubts that she would howl, cry and protest while moving out with two strangers but then baby enjoyed scanning through the Bhopal city roads for a while after settling down into a blissful nap on her father’s chest.  That journey was special beyond words.  We suddenly were parents and wherever we stopped for meals or water, including a aloof, roadside Dhaba, I found people making places for us. I was suddenly a mother and no more a young girl and that happened in one day!

We traveled to Ranchi within two weeks of her homecoming.  We were still learning and she showed all her patience in coping with her parents! But her patience broke within an hour of boarding the train from Ujjain to Delhi.  We had not even crossed the next station that we felt it would be impossible to continue ravelling.  She kept her father standing near the door.  Her father once showed her the red and green lights near the electrical panel and baby was interested.  Her father pointed and said, AC and then DC. And Baby kept on insisting on repeating it, for about half an hour. 

Baby, pointing at the panel ,“Huh..?”

Father, “AC”

Baby, again pointing at the panel ,“Huh..?”

Father, “DC”

And this continued and continued..huh? AC. Huh? DC…Huh? Ac….I find it hilarious today but that day I felt pity for my husband whose back was almost giving in.

During our half a day halt at Delhi, we experienced the earthquake there.  Though baby did not realize anything, we were scared.

She was almost teething during this journey.  So the new parents carried nice teether, an apple shaped one. Baby kept dropping it again and again and parents kept washing it and handing it to her again.  She found the game pretty interesting and kept dropping the teether on the train floor and sending us to the wash basin.

It was during another journey to the Southern India in the middle of heavy retreating monsoons that Phenargen and Normet entered our life.  It was our celebrity’s teething time and was a painful phase. She also had continuous high fever, dysentery and cold.  That was also the time where my constant guide was the personally autographed book by David Werner, ‘Where there is no doctor’.  During this journey, Dr Werner’s book mentored us and erased many myths regarding child care.

During most of the time we felt our child enjoyed the non AC compartments since apparently she could ‘hear’ the rhythm and would be really merry.  So many a times we did leave our AC berth to accommodate ourselves in Non AC compartment, atleast till the time she rocked herself to sleep.

Air travels were much more challenging as she had no place to move around.  So we would keep her busy with all the tickets, boarding passes and pieces of papers which she kept fiddling with.

Most of the early important milestones were achieved during travels. Teething, standing up independently, winning over the fear of the moving train toilet.

I often take her along during my official trips too these days and her father is of the opinion that she has had more than enough exposure of the dairy sector.  Once during a dairy plant visit, I showed her the giant Ghee Making machine.  She asked me, “Ghee toh yaha bann raha hai….chawal kaha ban raha hai?”

Now my baby can explain the process of milk cooling in villages.  She knows how a cow has babies and how an animal is treated.  She has witnessed trainings on Artificial Insemination and once while I was in a discussion with a veterinary doctor at Naxalbari in Darjeeling district, baby also witnessed castration of a goat, although she had no idea of what is happening.   No wonder, her father feels that’s quite an exposure to the sector. 

But she has learnt to entertain and keep herself busy even during my long discussions and I am happy that she knows our work. 

I hope she develops a passion for travel and seeing the world and gets over her nausea during road travels.  There is much to explore and see in the world.

So, during the previous journey, when my celebrity almost hoped for a reception at the station with flowers and garlands (that is my exaggeration, I admit), I happily sat by the window remembering the many small lanes and long roads we have crossed and hoped for more and more…..this is, after all just the beginning…..

Unexpected Showers

The spring had just given way to sizzling summers and the child in me wished to spend her free afternoons eating slices of fiery and desiccated Rajasthani summer. I wanted to peel off excess time on journey. Udaipur being the nearest location from Ahmedabad I decided to shoot off. As a matter of fact, Udaipur is 5 hours journey from Ahmedabad by road but I longed for a relaxed and comfortable train journey for this budgeted weekend getaway. The destination started to play on my mind. I began to crave for being by the lake, engrossed in the sunset view from a palace window carved out of love to appreciate the outside world from the protected dwelling, arresting the colours of Rajasthan in my little black and white eyes. I was looking forward to an escape for letting my heart to be soft, free from hatred as I realised that it was turning into a rock getting affected by the negativity of people at work place, neighbourhood and by friends turning to foe. And the only remedy I could recollect to melt my heart was listening to the tunes of Sarangi played by the local artist at the lakeside.

I logged on to IRCTC site on Thursday for booking rail tickets and to my surprise, at the beginning of summer vacations in most schools, for onward journey on Sunday, seats were available. I had to book tatkal e-ticket for Ahmedabad to Udaipur city journey. When the e-ticket was delivered I was dismayed with the middle berth allotted to me even after stating my preference for side lower berth for to & fro train travel. Since nothing can be done than consoling self with philosophy that a traveller should be flexible with no much preference but with the purpose to learn, explore and experience everything that comes on the journey, I boarded the train. Honestly, I was eager to exchange my seat with the co-passenger allotted the Side Lower Berth in the train.

As I entered the train, I laughed at my idiocy. I discovered that Ahmedabad-Udaipur City Express is an elfin meter gauge train accommodating its passenger for 10-11 hours (whereas the road journey estimates to only 5 hours) in 6 berths in each compartment of a coach. There are no Side berths in the train. From here I picked up a clue that my soul was whispering ‘this journey through the Aravali ranges is going to be slow paced, tranquil and an enjoyable one, just the way you wanted it’.  Since the train was designed differently, I was curious to see the AC coach. A square old aluminium tiffin box with two tiers like looked the AC compartment.

Night was spent in peaceful snooze on narrow seat and morning sunrise was of majestic hue. Through the blackish brown mountainous ranges the sun was raising slowly exactly like the scenery drawing a child learns to draw in school. The train slowly without hurting anyone on contravention, halted at Zarwar Station for 10 minutes or more. All the passengers rushed towards one little tea stall on the station for having their morning cup of tea at 07.30 AM. There was neither pantry nor the chaiwalas, coffeewalas, paniwalas doing the ramp walk usually shouting chai..chai, coffeeee…coffee like in other trains. This also made the train less cluttered in sound and space. The scenic beauty on this journey was quenching the thirst of my soul yearning for god’s presence and miracles in dry lands.

The train passed through tunnels giving way to the sight of the ghettos of trees with beautiful white flowers blooming unnoticed amidst the huge yet empty mountainous ranges giving hope, renewing aspirations and enlightening a spirit to blossom even in unfavourable conditions. Opposite to me seated an early teenage girl who was scribbling in her little diary and often looking at father who was pretending to be asleep.  The girl was at the age of having secrets!

Unlike other railway stations of Rajasthan, Udaipur station is well maintained and clean. There is tourism desk at the entrance of the station which I chose to ignore as I wanted to explore the city on my own, unguided. The local auto rickshaw is expensive. For shorter distance of 3-4 kilometres they charges you Rs. 50-60. I could hardly locate any public transport bus within the city and the widely used mode of transport is shared auto rickshaw. 

I had visited many hotel sites on Tripadvisor and narrowed down to listing few adhering to my rule of sasta, swatch, safe and sundar hotel. I was keen on taking a room in either of the two listed RTDC hotels in Udaipur; Hotel Anand Bhawan and Hotel Kajri. The reason for opting RTDC hotels was 25% discount offered by the state tourism department to women travellers. This excited my spirit and my pocket. But soon they both were disappointed by the staff response at both the hotels–‘nahi madam aisa koi scheme nahi hai.’ My furious mind grumbled ‘either RTDC website requires to be updated or the staff working in RTDC hotels.’

The other budget hotels in my list were good enough but this particular one grabbed my attention. Hotel Gangaur Palace, an old Haveli converted into a budget hotel for tourist especially the foreign nationals. My heart was set on the windows of the room shown in pictures uploaded on Tripadvisor.

The hotel staffs were cordial to receive guest in person as well on phone. Before I bargain (in true Indian spirit) and accommodate, I requested them to show me the room.  As the staff unlocked the door, my heart screamed so loud failing my mind in its efforts to control it.

I was clamped by the fascination of spending time by the beautifully designed windows with colourful stain glass. Moreover a well cushioned platform was provided to sit comfortably by the window to gaze and get lost in scenes of the busy streets outside.

The hotel was enjoyed more because it’s location.  Situated in the heart of the city, helps you connect to major tourist attractions and local markets of Udaipur City.

From the hotel walking 5 steps down the main lane you find yourself at the majestic lake

and the Gangaur Ghat

Diagonally opposite is the Bagore ki Haveli

The hotel also runs an artistically designed café offering a wide variety of French breads, pastries, fruit custards and the crispiest, softest and yummiest French toast.

The café is draped with Warli (Maharashtrian tribe painting) painting all over the walls.

It also has a roof top restaurant (a very common concept to appeal tourist and it is loved by the foreign tourist more) giving you the best view of the lake, and the activities around the lake like children and men having dip in the lake, women washing clothes on the ghats, the babas in orange performing religious rituals, local people trying their hand at fishing, bird taking smooth flights, bells ringing in the temple, boats taking ride with tourist boarded in it while you satiate your hunger with good food served in the restaurant. This place relaxes your emotional, creative mind and I was blessed since I got to enjoy the mild showers of rain and the cool dark clouds gathered around the lake during summer mystically beautifying the whole experience of a Saturday afternoon in the city. 

Supposing that you want to soak yourself in images of the city just described, I am taking a break on this note and will soon return with some more interesting experiences of discovery, dance and diet of Udaipur City.

By

Minal Vaz

When the moon and darkness welcomed me

During most of the past 10 years of our married life, Nikhil and I have been posted in different places. It started with one of us posted in the eastern corner of India, while the other, in the west.

Many of my regular journeys have been to meet him, to visit what we called ‘our home’.

The journey to the ‘home’ always was so very happy and the return was the saddest thing ever.  It tore and broke us each time, again and again.

Initially we met usually once in three-four months. The rhythmic Howrah-Ahmedabad express would take me to Baroda, chugging through the dark forests of Midnapur, the picturesque Odisha landscapes, the green Chattisgarh and Madhya Pradesh, the fertile Maharashtra, enter South Gujarat and then halt at Baroda, after two days.  I would spend the days usually chatting with the co travelers and answering questions like why we have to stay apart from each other, what’s so much about my job.  During the nights I would breathe in the crisp air, marvel at the telegraph lines passing fast like lightning and enjoy the shadows and lights played by the mighty engine. I have always been intrigued by the moon and to watch its image on a river we passed by, was an out of the world experience.  It would fill my heart with yearning and joy, all of it, together.

At times I would visit Nikhil after finishing my tour at Anand.  He lived only 4 hrs away from Anand so I would often board an evening train to my destination and haven.

I remember boarding the Rajkot-Jabalpur train and following part of the ‘Burning train’ route, the opposite side, of course. Baroda-Godhra-Dahod. Seated usually at the lower berth at the aisle, I would nearly stick my head out of the window.  I felt an unknown thrill seeing the poles rushing past in the vigil of the night, seeing the green signal from far, and the superfast train crossing the signals, one after the other, with a speed that matched my thrill.  As if the green signals were all collaborating to send me to my destination, to the person waiting at the other end of the journey.  The superfast in super speed would take me in no time to Dahod, the place where my heart belonged.

My posting at Shajapur at MP brought me closer to home. The small station of the little town of Shajapur was a beautiful and poetic place all together, like one of those we read in novels.  I would get my reservation, manually, from the person who was the station master-cum-signal man-cum everything at the station.  The one-manned station was a lovely neat and clean one and once in a while when a train would arrive, the dust near the railway trucks would rise from their sleep.  The train could be seen from a distance, in a meandering railway track and slowly the mammoth giant would halt at the sleepy station.  During morning hours, the first sleepy eyes would begin to emerge with the arrival of the Sabarmati Express, one of the very few express trains to cross this station and vendors would, for a while get busy with their samosas and water ‘pouches’.

I would, most of the time, board the Sabarmati on Saturdays.  The train, scheduled at around two in the afternoon would usually arrive at midnight.  My residence was so close to the station that I would leave home, only at the whistling sound of the friendly giant, broadcasting its gracious arrival, ready to take me home. 

The Sabarmati used to be unusually crowded, most of the time.  Nonetheless, my mood used to be unusually great during my homeward journeys too.  So I would, often share my berth with ladies travelling with wait listed tickets and most of the time, accommodate kids in my berth too. 

At times I also had to travel in the general coach, when no reservations were available. And I must say I enjoyed them.  As I said, my mood would be great during those journeys so I would often strike a good rapport with the co passengers.  For the UP crowd, usually making  their way to Ahmedabad, in search of fortune and a better life, a lady, travelling alone with an office bag, married but with no visible signs of marriage like the sindoor, bichia and bangles, was something they were not familiar with.  But during the journey, the rapport would build soon and I would no more remain a stranger to them.

Once a crowd belonging to Bhil community boarded the train and spread throughout the compartment, seating themselves at the passageway.  Each of them was blissfully asleep.  As Meghnagar approached, I was anxious, on their behalf, that they may not wake up in time to alight from the train.  Of course it was only my guess, from my travelling experience that they would alight at Meghnagar.  As the train stopped, I woke one of them saying, “Ben, Meghnagar aa gaya..” She shouted at me, making me guilty of spoiling her sleep and went back to her dreamland again.

From Ujjain, my next posting, I would take the ‘Jab We Met’ route to Dahod, opposite side, again.  Ujjain-Nagda-Ratlam-Barnagar-Meghnagar-Dahod.  Crossing the benevolent Khsipra in the early evening, I would reach Dahod when moon would rise in the sky and the world would sleep in darkness.  Once the train would leave the Meghnagar station, my heartbeat would increase and without any consideration for the little soul that I was, beat like drum, announcing my arrival at Dahod….every week.  As the first lights of Dahod would become visible, I would move two-three berths ahead, towards the door and as it would enter Dahod with élan and move parallel to the road, for a while before reaching the platform, I could almost imagine (and sometimes actually see) Nikhil reaching the station in the bike. 

The return journeys were always painful.  I would hate the Dahod-Ujjain route and love the Ujjain-Dahod travel although jo raste Ujjain se Dahod aate hain, wohee raste Dahod se bhi Ujajin jaatein hain.  But then during return, the route was never pally with me and was witness to my pain.

Life remained a journey and  a return journey for quite some time until we were posted at the same place.  I am sure Nikhil has his own stories to share about his travel to my place of posting.  Hope to hear his side soon….

May the journey of life be pleasant for all…

Traveller's Foot is itchy again....

I long to see the sun set over a meadow

I long to wash my feet with the dust out there

The moon shall peep from the carriage window

And I wish to touch the horizon..again

My travellers’ foot is itchy again…..

With a heart yearning for new horizons and an itchy foot ready to move, I cannot more agree with the adage, “Life is a journey”.

Journey though it is, it has not been the same throughout all these years.  Yes I have been a passionate traveler but I see myself having changed from the spontaneous traveler who would just pick up a backpack and board a train to, being quite an organized person who books tickets and accommodation well in advance.  What’s more, I thoroughly study the place to be visited.

The change was inevitable. Once I was an adventurous traveler who would pick up her baggage and meet hubby and his team mates, at the sleepy aloof Bercha railway station at small little town of Shajapur and that I did at about 4 in the morning!  I would board the train, share the berth with one of the girls from the group, go to sleep peacefully with my head near her feet and share the same bed sheet to cover myself.  The entire gang would then sing their way to the destination, search for accommodation and also put up at the most unusual places like old music schools, forbidden houses, upmarket lodges, sometimes spend an entire night on sand dunes.  The return journey would be equally adventurous since the tickets hardly were confirmed.  But then, the discomforts notwithstanding, we enjoyed a lot.  My hubby and his team members shared the same spirit, may be more and we did ROCK.

Times changed and now I often travel with more luggages and with much more caution.  The reason, my baby and sometimes my Ma, travel with me.  Thus, I travel ALONE..with two suitcases, one backpack, a laptop, a baby and a mother.   And thus the superbly organized planning for any travel.  I have more than enough food; the Amul tetrapacks, the medicines, first aid, Vitamins, all find a place in my travel bag.

Despite the change, the passion has not subsided and thus, this blog is dedicated to my travel experiences.  This will be my travel diary which I wish to share with my friends.

Thanks Nikhil for that extra dextrose dose for travel you have injected in me and I will soon thank you for that new camera too…