Cow's it going?

Their tanned smiling faces are still etched in my memory. On my way to the Sufi Durbar in the Nagaur Fort in Rajasthan, there was a large cloud of dust, meaning only two thing in the still desert. A dust storm or an exodus. It turned out to be an exodus all right but joining the humans and their monster trucks were cud chewing cows, Arabian looking horses, scared goats and loads of haughty camels. Inspection and business were the order of the day along with some good old cattle wrangling. Buyer and sellers had arrived from all over Rajasthan, Punjab, Haryana and even Gujarat to bargain their way into a new herd or at least a few heads.

Mini-temporary encampments had mushroomed up everywhere and by the seventh invite to partake a meal, I realised there was a spirit of camaraderie as well. This was a expo, picnic and excursion all rolled into one nice thick, spicy aloo ki paronti. As you might have assumed, I didn't wait for the eighth invitation to tuck into the aromatic delicacies tempting my olfactory nerves.

After plenty of handshakes and sometimes forced, sometimes voluntary petting of what seems like 500 animals, I felt like I was part of this wandering group of livestock farmers. Accepted into the fold, if I may. But two days later as I passed that way again, straining to see that cloud of dust, I was disappointed to see the well behaved desert once more. Vast, arid, shrubby but completely devoid of all life. My temporary family and other animals had disappeared like a mirage.

Gold, Maroon and Red

Street Walking - Nagaur, Rajasthan

Off The Wall

Taken at the Lachung Monastery and Rumtek Monestery (Sikkim)

How Desolate Is My Valley?

The phrase Valley Of Flowers conjures up some endless grassy knoll, with a million rainbow blooms swaying in a gentle breeze, bringing with it their heady perfume. Unfortunately, we were a month too late. Other than a few mocking traces, the flora was all gone and all that was left was a bitterly cold desolation with spitting rain and an icy Teesta River.

Yumthang Valley - North Sikkim (Go in March or April)

The Highest I've Ever Been

"Second time first, second time first," screamed Sonam, our friend, guide and driver. For a slightly sardonic guy not given to excesses of emotions this was a rare deviation in behaviour And indeed we were the first to arrive at the great Gurudongmar Lake on that day, located in North Sikkim at a gasp worthy altitude of 17,800 feet (around 5500 meters), where even our usually friendly oxygen calls it a day and takes off for the tropics.


For a phenomenal five minutes we lost our vocal chords as we took in the immensity of the lake and its guardian mountains, between laboured inhalations. Then the other cars started to arrive, some tourists dashing straight into the Buddhist temple to offer their prayers and others tending to their children already feeling the strain of oxygen poor air. It was still 7:45 in the AM and having left at around 4 from Lachen, I was unsure if I was experiencing the effects of altitude sickness or plain sleepiness. Either way the surroundings didn't let me dwell on such ridiculous matters of life and health.


This was after all a very spiritual place and an ancient energy made the air even more thick but not in a choking way. More like a security blanket. Guru Gobind Singhji had made this pilgrimage once on foot and consented to touch the water so that the lake wouldn't freeze over completely in the winter cutting off the only water source for miles. It's also a very holy place for Buddhists and the prayer flags struggling against the winds added a palatte of colour to match with the azure blue of the skies and water and the blinding white snow in the distance. You could drink this scene in. I'm sure it would've been cold and refreshing and hit the spot.


But as the fluttering increased in intensity Sonam told us it was time for us to leave. More than 45 minutes at such a high altitude without the proper acclemitisation could mean trouble. And besides the moment the time neared 10 AM the wind decided to blow so strong that large rocks would get tossed around like dust.

(the world's highest loo) :D

And so we left, straining our necks around to get that last glimse of the mighty Gurudongmar, with a silent word of thanks to the universe for sparing us the mountain sickness and letting us glimpse a wedge of heaven.

VT aka CST

It's a poster for the chaos theory. That many people in quick-step, doing a strange a-mathamatical waltz, tiny ants weaving their way to their movable mound. It's a wonder how this post-colonial left over can stand so opulently, gazing down at Mumbai's millions, while smilingly ushering them into her cavernous interiors. Till now, I was one of those little ants, zooming to my destination, auto-pilot deployed. At least until, I stopped and looked and clicked.

Down River - Hampi

Hyderabad - Street Walking

Bogie Man

Shot from the train en route from Bangalore to Goa.