Writers Block ..

Yeah yeah .. I know I am not a writer :)

Contradiction

The noise around,
the calm inside.

Happiness abound,
Still something inside me cried.

Ummritsar ..

No mistake .. it is Ummm-ritsar, thats what I say when I come to Amrtitsar .. Ummm ..

Ok, so there are the "glued to the horn" car drivers, the "just turned 13"motorcyclists, the weird traffic within the walled city. The village within the village. And the confusion that the 10 odd malls that are being made would bring to the city.

However, it has something that I cant get anywhere else. Sometimes its so obvious that it takes a question to get it out of you. Today, a guest at home asked me "Beta, isn't Amritsar colder than Delhi", right then without thinking I had to come out with "No! I find a lot more Nigg here." Loosely translated it would mean that Amritsar has a whole lot more warmth.

It is tough to come to Amritsar and tougher to get away from the Nigg.

The mood today ...

You seem so distant,
yet so near.
The memories fade,
the ones I hold so dear.

The real superstar ...

Crappy movie .. full time hamming .. and a full time pass .. with "Happies ending"

butttt .. Deepika Padukone ... WOW

Doe eyed, long limbed, delicate .. for me she was the only thing that made the movie watchable.

Wish we could see her in an Ultraviolet kind of a role, I am sure she would kick ass in an action flick.

See the movie to know what I am talking about. No not OSO but Ultraviolet ! :)

The guessing game ...

Q: What do you do .. ?
A: Ahem .. what do I do ?
Q: Yeah .. what do you do ?

I could have a thousand responses to this line of questioning, however sometimes its better to let your imagination and creativity get the better of you.

Tch tch .. you would know when you have to.

Somebody shook me ...

.. and it was God !

Early in the morning and everything shakes, the furniture, the bed, the fan and me. It was as if I had my house right next to a Mumbai local railway line. No make that in between two local lines. Mumbai Central anyone ..

The tremors were from a moderate earthquake.

What do I do, I go out on the terrace look around and walk back in just to see that it was not even 5 a.m. yet. Too early to stay awake .. !

I am back ...

Its been slightly less than a year when I last wrote here. So much has changed yet so little has changed. Didnt know where my next meal is going to be from then and dont know even now !

It was S'pore then .. and post Mumbai its Delhi now.

Must have been the good two day weekend this week which gave me the energy to post this. I need more weekends like this one !!

Gourmet Dinner ...

Tonight I had a choice at dinner ..

I ask my swamp mates, "what would be a good thing tonight, junk food or junk food ?".

Puzzled looks and the wise crack; "to eat ?" :)

And then I settle for junk food and junk food.

Aaaah choices !

Bruises and lessons !

The basketball court attracted me today, like it never had before. Felt myself pulled to the court to play and was playing good ! (better than I usually do ... finally, I thought, I was getting the hang of the game).

I fell, no I didn't lose my footing and I don't recall being pushed .. but I fell .. some fancy unconscious moves and suddenly my body turns on the axis and my palms hit the floor ... bam !

Lesson No. 1: Basketball is a contact sport
Lesson No. 2: Think before you play basketball on a Tar Road surface, the rocks scratch real hard. The palms of my hands are badly bruised up
Lesson No. 3: My reflexes are still ok !

Post the first aid .. couldn't find anything to get over the shock so went off for a jog, treated myself to a nice dinner at IKEA and visited Raka at the hospital getting the infected screw (implant) in his right leg treated.

Raka got describing his accident 2 years back where he was on a mobike on the Mehruli Road in Delhi and doing a 110 (kms not miles) in the middle of the night and out of nowhere this man pushing a cart crosses the road ... wham .. he hits the cart !

He is lying in the pool of blood, no help from the cart wallah (he ran back and left the cart in the middle of the road the moment he saw the bike) and no help from the cars crossing (dilli walon ka dil .. right!). He finally did get some help from some other bikers on the road but it was chilling the way that he described his helmet breaking into two, he not being able to move his leg and him seeing the cars whiz past without stopping.

What would I have done .. I don't know ! I really don't know .. !

Coincidence ... reading about something similar in this blog today.

Running from Camera ..

.. wish I had thought of this .. check this out ... Running from Camera

Boat Ride to a different time !

How does it feel when you lose something that you create ...

Wrote a blog .. a detailed travelogue of Batam - Indonesia ... it was intense, interesting, informative ... and well ! Picture this ... you write something ... use the shift and arrow key to select the complete text ... and suddenly your right ring finger gets a mood of its own and from the up arrow likes to move to the enter button .. and no Ctrl Z does not work !!

Now rather than that blog which went in line with the title of this blog .. I leave with this ....

Eye of the Tiger ..

.. Rocky for the last time .. saw Rocky Balboa, the sixth (and the last) in the Rocky series.

Stallone at his vintage best .. he is old ... but plays the part with a panache. Portrays the part of a fighter fighting with his own demons.

And then he decides to fight them out the very last time .. the fight scenes are a bit muted .. the training sequence duller than usual, but what shines is belief in himself and his strength of knowing when to listen to his own heart with conviction. Enough conviction to beat some sense (verbally .. no punches here) into his son. And then there is the woman (isn't there one behind every successful man .. or in this case every successful Rocky) it was Adrianne before and this time around happens to be Marie. Marie, an old friend who he bumps into, is the turning point in his life .. giving him the push ... the push needed over those crucial moments that one feels a little unconfident and which only a woman who really loves you can give you.

Nice play of emotions between the son and father, Marie and Rocky, Steps and Rocky ...

Even though he doesn't win the bout, he wins the bout !!!

An interesting watch.

the pits and falls ...

... the story goes on though

stumble on a rock
... deja vu

haven't I been here
... me and you

the moment I forget
... the path leads back to you

it would have been painful
... if it wasn't this true

Did you feel that ...

Whiff of fresh air,
the colour red.
Rekindles the ache,
Gold and Red.

Woozy body clock ..

No mornings ... no breakfast,
Bad Lunch and raindrops,
Pool and Chocolates,
Carbs at Dinner and midnight Icecream,
Stories of violence ... pre marital violence,
Basketball .. huh .. at this time,
Swaps, bid and offer,
Its too late to sleep and too early to get up !

music hardly ...

So I am the first in my room to get a shut eye ... even though its at 2:00 a.m. its still too early by the already set standards of the wild trio that I have as my roomies

Mornings get interesting though .. my conditioning with my cell phones snooze button gets me up at the right time ... the rest of my crew is usually still under covers ... their alarms are met with hands popping up from the cozy covers of the duvet and switching them off and disappearing beneath the covers ... and then the very last minute; the rush to freshen up !

3 alarms going up at the same time and with only me in the room is mighty irritating though !

Raindrops keep falling on my face ...

... and wish I was dancing in the rain rather than running away from it ..

Lunch, dessert and some pool .. I lost horribly ! and then getting wetter than a solitary olive in gin.

The next time it rains I wish I get some steaming hot Mal Puas or Jalebis !

A distant dream in Singapore though but well ... Sin is different.

.. Singapore days ... and the Singapore nights ...

The lights on Orchard Road, the energy of Bugis street, the corporate attire at CBD, the colourful China Town .. the list goes on ..

The colour that really stands out .. Green !

Green to me used to be the colour of envy .. the colour of money ... but nothing can be greener than the view from my window .. trees, shrubs, grass .. even the algae on the footpath ..

What a welcome change !

15 days just flew by ...

... and am now in rainy Singapore ... sunny side up :)

Reached Amritsar 3:30 am India Time ... now I didnt have a phone and had told Mom and Dad to pick me up at 5:30 am ... could have used the PCO to call them up, didnt want to wake them up !

Had 2 hours to kill, did what I do best - "people watch". Taxi and Auto Rickshaw wallahs asking you whether you need a ride, the excited relatives and friends being reunited, the "seen all that" look on the PCO and food stall guys and the sorrow on the face of the relatives of the departed soul whose mortal remains were being ferried from Dubai in a Coffin. And then the emptiness of the whole area after 30 minutes.

The joy on my parents face on seeing me after almost 6 months was worth the 2 hours.

Amritsar was a true holiday ... something that I had not had in ages ... maybe a decade. An average sleep of 10 - 12 hours, food ... no responsibilities and not having to worry about the laundry :)

A drive to Jallandhar and back ... and then Pathankot and back ... Indian Roads have not changed, neither has the road discipline. However getting into the drivers seat after so long was fun ... I could still drive !!

The obligatory trip to Delhi was for my tummy .. although the reason was slightly different.

Reach Delhi on Friday evening and direct to 360, leave my bag with the concierge and get into the zone ... the place was so packed that it seemed as if the whole city had landed up ... two beers, some sushi, loads of nuts ... even the edible variety ... was good to see Keith and Ram .. John was a pleasent surprise.

Post 360, it was YBR (Yellow Brick Road for the uninitiated) for dinner ... bad Thai Curry ... and even the Kheema Naan was bland, that was the only low point of the whole trip .. but nothing that a good nights sleep could not help forget ... Back to 360 for lunch and sushi again ... :)

The dinner was the best thing to happen ... Kareems at Jama Masjid with a late night Ice Cream at Def Col, Chettinand food for lunch at the Tamil Nadu house and back to Amritsar on the Shatabadi on a wait listed ticket.

Came back and back to my sleeping spree ... with some cooking in between ... I almost forgot that I had stuff to do .. things to buy ... foreign exchange ... and visiting GT !

Packing ! and then the good byes at the Airport ... 3 differnt levels of airport security and three diffent levels of good byes ... one at the entry point, the second inside the airport before the check in counter ... the last one .. had seen mom just walk inside the security check in counter of the domestic terminal once but never expected them to accompany me till the emmigration counter ! :)

Felt good !

Yol changes into IX Corps from a puny little Brigade ..

Sampls this ...

"For an effective operational preparedness in the western sector, in mid-2005 Indian Army raised a new corps at Yol Cantt in Kangra Valley of Himachal Pradesh. The new corps, christened 9 Corps / Rising Star, comprises 26 and 29 Infantry Divisions, which had previously been allocated to XVI Corps / Nagrota Corps, and a number of brigades"

So what is Yol all about ... the most exhaustive write up about Yol that I could lay my hands on was an article written by Rajendra Rajan in "The Tribune" ... which I am reproducing here ...

Yol: Once a haven for prisoners of war
By Rajendra Rajan

Once a tiny principality of a few hamlets. Yol today is a small township bustling with life. The old grey buildings with coloured rooftops provide a glimpse of the British style of architecture. The beautiful heritage can be seen protruding from the relatively dense green cover. The mighty and picturesque Dhauladhars in the backdrop lend an idyllic charm to the town.

Yol is situated at the foothills of the Dhauladhars and has attained a prestigious place in the annals of Indo-British history. The town is about 10 km from Dharamsala. The neat and clean environs of Yol are one of its most striking features. The Army formations, over the years, have preserved the pristine glory of the place.

A peep into the history of Yol will reveal that prior to 40s, the area surrounding the town was called Mujetha Ka Balla. In local parlance, it means a barren land where munj grass grew. The green pastures covering the foothills of the Dhauladhar range were used by local shepherds for grazing their cattle. The paths used by the shepherds for grazing cattle were known as jhoel. A small brook was called khol. When the Britishers lodged the Italian prisoners of war in Yol in 1942, the area started becoming popular. In addition to the Italian POWs, political and other prisoners were also lodged here. Italian POWs first used Yol as an abbreviation of Your Own Lines. Later, when the Army formations started making the place their base, it acquired a new name — Young Officers Leave Camp.

In olden times, Yol and its adjoining villages were called Papi Nagri. According to a legend, the king of the area fell in love with a damsel. The girl, however, did not want to marry him. He tried to abduct her, but she ran away and transformed herself into a rock near a temple at Narwana. Later, a huge landslide caused a lot of destruction in the area. A number of villages were destroyed by the landslide.

Yol has a strong connection with World War II. More than 11,000 Italian prisoners of war were brought and confined here by the British rulers. The POWs were captured by the British army from different parts of the world. Apart from soldiers, the prisoners included doctors, professors and writers. The camp was set up in 1942 on the slopes between Khas-Yol and Narwana villages. The barracks built for the POWs were spread over 770 acres. Mostly wood was used for the construction of these barracks. The camp was set up in a record time of six months. The construction work started in April 1941 and was completed in October in the same year. It was an ideal place for the POWs, as the Italians soon acclimatised to the cold climes of Yol.

Almost all the barracks and other buildings constructed during the 40s at Yol have withstood the onslaught of weather and time. The barracks at Yol are a legacy of the British rule in India. Today, these stand as a mute witness to the memories of thousands of POWs who spent over four years there. The entire stretch of about 10 km between Dharamsala and Yol is replete with numerous stories and legends about the lifestyle of Italian POWs. They were lodged in four camps and one of the commandants (appointed out of the POWs themselves) was Chachera Lavera. He used to exercise strict control over the movements of other prisoners. However, it is said that almost all prisoners of war, except the hardcore ones, had the full liberty to move around. They were free to roam around and could even walk miles together on the outskirsts of the camp. It is heartening to note that they ‘enjoyed’ their stay in India though they were thousands of miles away from their country.

Eightyeight-year-old Vidyawati Thapa, a resident of Dari village near Dharamsala, spoke of an Italian POW who got friendly with her husband, Ram Kishan Thapa. The Italian often visited their house and cooked food for himself in the courtyard of their house. He cooked in a makeshift hearth. "My husband developed gout in his right foot. The Italian brought medicine for him from the camp and soon my husband was cured. I have forgotten his name, but he had got close to our family. Despite the language problem, many a POW succeeded in developing good family relations with the locals. So much so that a few POWs got a piece of land leased out for themselves to grow vegetables, with only a verbal understanding. I have seen two Italians growing tomatoes in one of the fields at Dari village. I feel they were not happy with the food served to them in the camp."

Ninetytwo-year-old Brigadier (retd) Sher Jung Thapa has also closely watched the activities of POWs in Yol. He says, "I saw a few POWs selling their rugs to get Indian currency. They would even sell fruits given to them in ration. They reportedly even went to the extent of brewing local liquor within the four walls of their camp. Their frequent visits to the villages evoked a lot of anxiety and inquisitiveness among the locals. Mostly, I saw them in a holiday mood, as if they had come to India for a picnic. They behaved like tourists and resentment or remorse about their being away from their homeland eluded their faces. I remember that two POWs had deserted the camp and they crossed over to Tibet and one of them later wrote a book on Tibet."

It is believed that one of the prisoners tried to escape by jumping over the stockade. But he was soon shot dead by British soldiers. The dead Italian was buried outside the stockade and a stone slab was erected, with an inscription in Italian that said, "I fell here". The lone grave of the Italian POW can still be seen inside Yol cantonment.

While on the one hand it is said that POWs at Yol had freedom to roam around without fear, on the other hand separate barracks for hardcore prisoners were created within the camp. They were isolated and kept in enclosed barracks surrounded by a high wall, called stockade. A huge rock with iron chains inside the Army formation is still intact. It is believed that hardcore POWs and Indian political prisoners were tortured there.

One of the most notable remnants is a memorial erected by the POWs. It was raised with the help of locally available slates. No cement or mortar has been used to build the memorial. A pair of big slates atop symbolises the freedom that Italian prisoners kept yearning for. At the centre of the memorial there is an inscription written on a big grey slate and tied with chains. It states: "The rather uncommon stone relic was made by the Italian prisoners housed in the Yol POW camp from 1941 to 1946. The topmost pair of stones are symbolic of men’s unsatiated thirst for freedom, depicted here as a pair of wings of a bird, struggling to free itself from captivity. The rest of the structure represents prison walls.... This beautiful idea enshrines the tribute which this band of Italians, although captives, left behind this emblem of human spirit, for posterity to uphold and emulate.... To this day it stands undisturbed by fellow soldiers and spared even by the unforging fury of both nature and time."

The authorities at Yol Camp had also made arrangements for the entertainment of POWs. Sham Lal Maini, a leading industrialist, financer and distributor of Indian films in the forties, was instrumental in opening the first cinema hall at Yol Camp. Indian and Foreign films were shown to the POWs in batches as the capacity of the cinema hall was small and only 200 persons could be accommodated.

Another building of historical importance near Yol is "Phansighar" and is situated in Tokabani village. Today, Phansighar is in a dilapidated condition and has been encroached upon by villagers. They use it as a cowshed. Though locals call it Phansighar, it appears to be a dumping place for garbage. How this building, made from pucca bricks, came to be known as Phansighar remains a mystery.