The singing duck (in my head)

Imagine a duck walking ahead of you, down the path in the neighbourhood park, crooning to itself in Daffy Duck's voice:

 

"Chala jaata hun, kisi ki dhun mein

Dhadakte dil ke taraane liye

Milan ki masti bhari aankhon mein

Hazaaron sapne suhaane liye" 

No, seriously, imagine that duck singing Kishore da's classic lines in its duck voice. Swaying its head from side to side, being all dude-like.

Now you know what's been going on in my head ever since I took this picture at Lake Park, INA. Am I insane, imaginative or stoned? Go figure.

Mystical Himalayas and the wild, wild rain.

I feel tired, rested and on top of the world, all at the same time. My incredible week-long Himalayan vacation came to an end over 3 days ago but its memories are crystal clear in my head. The vacation was as rejuvenating as it was inspiring. There was snow, there was rain, there were mountain peaks and rainbows. And I got some really wonderful pictures to bear witness to what an amazing place Himachal Pradesh is, and what beautiful weather we had there last week.

Part I: Dharamshala

For the first 5 nights of the trip, we stayed at The Exotica Resort in Dharamshala. The hotel is perched atop a hill and our balcony afforded a breathtaking view of the entire city. Dharamshala is quite a small city in fact, with few attractions to entice tourists. There's a world-famous cricket stadium, the headquarters of the Dalai Lama tucked away in Mcleodganj (Upper Dharamshala) and a few temples here and there. But every view of the lofty Himalayas it offers is worth the money spent in visiting this tiny little hill station. The Tibetan vibe and Buddhist culture you encounter in Mcleodganj are also unlike anything you've ever seen before.

I consider myself lucky to have been in Dharamshala in the first week of March. Why, because it was snowing heavily in Jammu & Kashmir and consequently, most of North India was experiencing rains. And the rains and the Himalayas form a combination as heady as they come! Once the heavy showers subsided there was some wonderful shadow-play on the distant mountains by the sun and the clouds. One minute, I could clearly see this far-off snow-clad mountain showing its head over its neighbouring peaks. And the very next minute, it was gone! Poof! Cloudy mists ate it up; only to let it show again after a while in all its beautiful snowy glory. I swear I could sit out there, on that porch, all day everyday until I couldn't remember what day it was. I was that spellbound.

The clouds would go rushing across the sky at my very own eye level.

For the first three days, there was incessant rain all day and night. It was extremely cold, yet very enjoyable sitting on the balcony watching the rain drops and admiring the enhanced colours of nature all around.

The sun's rays filtering through the dense, unending cloud cover to cast wild shadows over the vast landscape.

A lone bird trying to find its way in the cloudy skies.

That moment when the dark rain clouds finally decided to call it quits and made a hasty retreat.

AND! A hailstorm! And a really heavy one at that too.

And of course, I saved the best for the last. The most glorious rainbow I ever saw. No editing, just the magnificent colours cast by the sun.

Head over to my Instagram and Facebook pages for more pictures from my Himalayan sojourn. I'll be writing again soon, with more pictures and more stories from the seven best days I've so far had in this year. Stay hooked!

Finally - the World Book Fair 2015!

Sometimes it's hard to believe I've been writing for the last five years. Yes, that's how old my blog becomes on the 28th of this month. And to think I've been reading for more than 4 times as many years - it's surreal. The very sight, touch and smell of a book in my hand is like opium in the hands of an addict. I cannot imagine my life without books. I'd literally be lost. And yet, the most embarrassing and unimaginable fact about this whole lifetime of reading and writing is that I haven't been to the World Book Fair even once. You read that right. Not once. I once visited the Delhi Book Fair, though, but that doesn't count, because it lacked the charm of an international book fair. The world book fair kept eluding me every year - most of the times I'd have exams, at other times I'd have to be somewhere else. But all that is in the past now. 

Because I finally got to pay my obeisance at the World Book Fair 2015 yesterday - the last day of the event, no less. There were books and only books everywhere I could see. A lot of book lovers and fellow fanatics like me too, which made it totally my kind of social gathering. And it was pure, unadulterated fun.

I visited many different publishers' stalls and drooled over many books. But try as I might to control my urges, I always found myself gravitating towards the 'classics' section, be it at Penguin, Harper Collins or Jaico. There's just something these classic works had that modern day writers can simply not recreate or imitate, no matter how they try. They cannot paint a faithful picture of the past the way writers like Jane Austen, Anton Chekhov or Charles Dickens could. And that's what makes them a separate league of their own. I am a fan of the classics, though I appreciate contemporary writers like Jhumpa Lahiri, Vikram Seth and Amitav Ghosh almost as much. On the contrary I have a cousin who reads only classics and considers modern Indian writing pointless and worthless. I hope to be able to sway him someday.

Now for the last six months of so, I've been on a self-imposed moratorium from buying any more books. I already have at home two shelves full of the most amazing books lying unread, gathering dust. I haven't been able to finish even two books in their entirety in the three months that have gone by since my upsc main exams got over. One might wonder, what for did I visit the book fair then? But I'm sure book-lovers would understand - the very sight of so many books at one place, not to mention stationery, food and the rare prospect of meeting a writer or two if luck allows, is enough for a book-lover to go running to the book fair, come storm or snow. In my case, the moratorium didn't last very long either. Despite restraining myself to the best of my ability, I ended up buying three books that emptied out my pockets for good. But I had my reasons for each of the purchases, your honour, if you would please let me explain:

1. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Because I gifted my most beloved copy of this most beloved novel to a no-less-beloved friend of mine a couple of years ago. And I cannot have a bookcase without a copy of PnP in it, can I?

(Read my review of this book here.)

2. A House for Mr Biswas by V S Naipaul

Because I have a record of sorts - for having read all of the Man Booker prize-winning Indian and Indian-origin authors' books. I have read Kiran Desai, Arundhati Roy, Aravind Adiga and Salman Rushdie (British-Indian). The only one left on the list is Sir V S Naipaul, the tempestuous and controversy-courting novelist from Trinidad and Tobago (but with an Indian father). So here we go.

3. The World's Greatest Short Stories by Jaico

Because I aspire to start my writing career with a short story collection. For that I need to hone my skills, and who better than the greatest masters of the art to learn and get inspired from?

One of the rare occasions when yours truly gets clicked and decides to upload the result on the blog as well. Enjoy the rare sighting.

And the mandatory murder of the English language without which a local Indian food menu would simply be incomplete. "Bolls" totally takes the cake.

With such a title and cover picture, why the heck not? Let's buy it.

Thank God for my camera, or else I'd have ended up buying books until my debit card and pocket were emptied of all my life's savings. Believe it or not, I did use up all the cash I had and went searching for an ATM all around the Pragati Maidan premises (which by any given standard are huge) in the sweltering heat. Fortunately or unfortunately, the ATM I eventually found out was not functional and the nearest functional one was at the metro station a kilometre away. So I had to be content with whatever I'd got so far. There was a  notebook they were selling at the Roli Books stall on which you could get your name stamped. For sheer lack of handy cash, I missed out on getting one for myself - and that remains the only regret I have. Otherwise the day went perfectly. I had a great time with my (highly irritating but awesome) best friend. We browsed, we bought, we ate, we laughed and we chatted till sundown. 

I hope this was a precursor to the many more visits I'm going to make to the world book fair in the years to come. Hopefully someday, one of my own books will grace the shelves at the fair and I'll be attending as an author and not a mere reader. Amen to that!

P.S. It was heartening to see a lot of parents and kids at the book fair. The children's sections at all the stalls were jam-packed! It was good to be thus assured that the practice of reading books isn't getting replaced by other distractions like gadgets, gaming and social media anytime soon. Parents still recognize the importance of books in a child's life and their growing up process. Cheers to such wise parents, and to their lucky kids!

Mumbai Magic - The one with all the Bling

Our favourite hangout throughout the holiday was the plush Colaba Market. Near one end of it was our hotel, while the other end was close to the fabled Taj Mahal Palace. Colaba market is known as much for its generous sprinkling of cafes and landmark restaurants, as it is for being a popular tourist hub. No wonder it was lined on both sides with shops and stalls selling typical touristy stuff - comfortable pajamas and baggy tops, purses and totes, boho-chick jewellery, bangles, trinkets and earrings. From little Eiffel towers, owlets and feathers to Greek-style anklets, printed tees and shorts, there were endless displays of charming stuff all around. But at really exorbitant prices too!

I found 350-400 rupees to be their standard quote for the tiniest of things, right from a bracelet to a T-shirt. Now whenever an Indian hears a price that seems to be a little over the estimated worth of the product, they can judge that the seller is testing them. And then the classic Indian process of bargaining ensues - you stage a walkout, the shop-wallah calls out after you with an offer to reduce the price. You return with a haughty air and quote an outlandishly low price that makes him curse you inwardly. But he negotiates some more because looking at your clothes and camera, he knows you're a potential customer who shouldn't be let go of that easily. So he haggles and you haggle some more, and finally come down to a price on the lines of 150-200 rupees. With a smug satisfaction on your face, you gladly pay the price and collect your spoils, only to make your way to the next haggling joint - determined to get an even better deal.

Admit it, that's us.

 

Wondering if I bought anything or not? Well, a pair of baggy pajamas for myself and a really great handbag (with another smaller sling of the same colour inside it) for my sister. And needless to say, I got a great bargain on the bag and my sister really loved it. So Colaba market had a happy ending for me.

Stay tuned for more Mumbai Magic!

You can connect with me on Facebook here. Find rest of the posts in this series here.

Mumbai Magic - The one with the Acrobat

While roaming around Colaba market on foot one morning, I came across two street performers putting on an acrobatic show. I wasn't surprised considering I'd seen several of those back in Delhi. The show usually unfolds thus. One of the performers beats a drum, calling out to people to come and watch the spectacle, while another (usually a small child) climbs up the pole and walks on a tight rope, often holding props. A collecting bowl is set out on the ground and onlookers are expected to drop in some money if they like what they see. The little girl whose performance I witnessed that morning was balancing little lamps stacked over her head and carrying a long pole in her hands, even as she balanced her weight perfectly on a rope suspended mid-air. The sight of a small child successfully pulling off such difficult antics was fascinating. And at the same time, distressing.

The girl most probably didn't go to school, since performing in the streets can't be just a weekend job. Being able to keep her balance on the tight rope while carrying numerous props must be a very hard job and must definitely take a toll on the child's physical health as well. Devoid of education and a secure environment to develop physically and psychologically, she was probably forced to perform in the streets in all weathers to earn a living for her family. Such a child is sure to define her worldview and the future course of her life within the confines of such a hapless existence. This inhibits the development of her overall personality and stops her from realizing her full potential in life. I couldn't help but feel really dispirited at the sight. Even greater was the weight of the realization that I could do nothing to help the child in that moment.

I spent some time thinking about the issue later. Spotting an injustice isn't difficult; you can most easily point out the various problems faced by the world and the people around you. But what about the solution? In this case, what are the alternatives in front of the street performer? Poverty and a general lack of sensitivity towards the developmental needs of a child are the major reasons that drive parents to make their children work. It is the responsibility of the parents, thus, to make all possible efforts towards their child's wellbeing and education. They could take up extra work to earn enough so that the child doesn't have to work. She could in turn be enrolled in a school or at the very least, a vocational training center so that she could learn to read, write and use her skills profitably. Essentially, promoting education and awareness are the only effective ways in which such children can be helped. I may sound like an idealist, but in fact I do understand the various constraints faced by the child's family, the government and the society at large in addressing this problem. However the solution ultimately lies in the willpower to act despite all odds, doesn't it?

I just wish the little girl finds a better life and happiness in her future. Meanwhile, I should probably conclude this more-serious-than-I-intended post and sign off for the night. Stay tuned for some more Mumbai Magic. You can find all the posts here.

Mumbai Magic - The one with the Monkeys

On one of our days in Mumbai, we decided to take a one-hour ferry ride to the famed Elephanta Caves. I was quite eager to visit the caves, having read so much about them in my art and history classes and their being a UNESCO World Heritage Site as well. Interestingly, friends and family in Delhi had discouraged me from wasting an entire day at the caves since they were just "broken stone statues and ruins, nothing of much interest". I guess appreciation of art isn't as commonly found in people as one would think it ought to be.

The ferry ride was delightful, with the endless Arabian Sea all around and seagulls racing with our boat as we headed to our destination. On reaching Elephanta island, a toy train transported us to the foot of the caves. From thereon up the hill, all I could see on both sides were endless troops of monkeys. Older monkeys, little infant monkeys, adolescent monkeys - it was a total riot. During the uphill climb it was a scary prospect for me to go anywhere near them, as my little experience with these primates in Delhi said one must not get too close to them or, heaven forbid, ever brandish one's camera in their faces. They'll lunge at it and before you know it, you'll be left camera-less and probably scratched at many places. So I kept my camera tightly clutched to my side and left the monkeys alone.

About half an hour into my exploration of the caves, however, I had a moment of enlightenment. These hapless inhabitants of Elephanta island were in fact totally harmless. They were too bored to even care to jump at you or try to scare you off of their young ones. They were all really calm and self-absorbed, the older ones single-mindedly picking lice off of each other and the little ones frolicking around. I went up close and clicked as many pictures as I liked without so much as a sideways glance from a single monkey. Needless to say I was surprised, but pleasantly so.

Mumma monkey feeding her child with corny treats.

This particular mother-child duo was taking turns at nibbling on an ear of corn. The way the mother monkey was so intently feeding her child was heartwarming and I stood there smiling at them for quite some time. Until, out of nowhere, a larger monkey jumps into view and starts staring hungrily at a guy who had just bought a roasted corn cob from a local seller and unfortunately hadn't had the good sense to walk away quickly with his corn still intact. The big bad monkey, clever as he was, snarls at him once, and the poor guy realizes his game is up and gives up on any hope of having his meal. The beast, knowing too well that he has succeeded in his intent, calmly walks over to the boy and snatches the corn from his hands. Left with nothing else to do, the guy looks at us with an embarrassed smile even as the clever monkey struts off into the woods to enjoy his spoils in peace. This was such a hilarious scene that I won't forget it for a long time to come.

Notice that look of utter satisfaction on the cunning ape's face?

Elephanta was definitely a great experience in its entirety, with the awe-inspiring sculptures, rock-cut architecture and sheer grandeur, but the most fun I had on that journey was in observing and clicking these cute primates rolling about all over the place. Their antics made for an enchanting sight and some wonderful photographic moments as well. I couldn't choose any one picture to accompany this blog post, so here are three of my favourites. Keep coming back for some more Mumbai Magic.

To catch all the posts in the series in one place, visit here.

Mumbai Magic - Here we go again!

A very happy new year, everyone!

I know I've been away for far too long to make an easy comeback. In the last one year, I have lived an entire lifetime staying in a hostel, giving countless number of exams, watching a lot of good movies, doing copious amounts of freelance writing and traveling extensively. And unlike last year, I refused to pull myself back this time round and made it a point to do whatever made me happy without pressuring myself too much. It was a tough yet largely satisfying year. But if there's one thing I haven't been able to do so far - that one regret - it is of not having written anything meaningful on my blog this whole time. And that has saddened me more with every passing day for an entire year.

I've come to realize that the more freelance work I've been doing - marketing, branding, travel, website content and anything else I get - the faster my brain has been losing its creative skills. I cannot remember the last time I wrote a really good, creative piece. My blog tagline reads, 'Fiction. Poetry. Books. Music. Travel. Photography. Love. Nostalgia. Sarcasm. Et al.' And yet there's none of that to be found on my blog anymore. I get story ideas often, but they seldom translate into blog posts. Even when they do, the translation is not half as good as I'd have liked it to be. Just too much of inertia has set in. I feel like my creative juices have run dry. And since I am rarely ever satisfied with my own work now, how can I expect anyone else to like it?  No wonder I've lost a majority of my readership too. All in the pursuit of a greater cause, a glorious career, I always reasoned.

But I am relatively free from studies now and would really like to revive my fledgling blog somehow. The question is, HOW? It seems like such a Herculean task now, with my own impossibly high expectations to meet. I need inspiration.

The year 2015 has been exceptionally kind to me so far - I've just come back from a delightful Mumbai sojourn and two more trips are in the pipeline for the coming weeks. So I thought, what better way to kick off my return than with a travelogue? Not just another run-of-the-mill travelogue, though (because that is just not how we roll). Starting tomorrow, I'll be posting one picture each day with a story or anecdote to accompany it. Through the lens of my camera, I'm going to try giving you all a glimpse into Mumbai the way I saw it and felt it. It might also give my tired blog a new lease of life. So just stay with me and keep feeding me back with what you think. Email me at wtmp.angel@gmail.com, leave me a word at +Mahimaa Kohli or a tweet @mahimakohli. You could also catch me on Facebook. I could really use some encouragement right now.  So don't hesitate. Hit me up with your thoughts!

The Taj Mahal Palace and the Gateway of India - because what else could possibly symbolize Mumbai better than this classic duo?

P.S. I got a brand new Canon EOS 600D, so the pictures now are going to be better than ever. Yay! \^_^/