Rafting on the Ganges... Part 1....

I have been longaway from the blogging world for almost a year now. The fact is that there is so much to tell, and so little time left to type. Now that i have got my fingers to the keypad (replacing the old pen to paper saying), i will try and keep you up to date with the happening things in my life. Believe me there have been loads. Ok, enough of an intro and time for the real deal now. I will start of with the latest tour that I have done. The only reason being, is what AMAZING. For the first time I actually feel like using the word perfect. Anyways, here I go...

Having being working with Foliage Outdoors for 8 months now (another story, later...), I had accompanied a camp to Rishikesh in December 08.This blog is not about that camp. Read on to know more. What was the camp? Lo & Behold, Rafting. A rafting camp on the Great Ganges. Do you believe that? Mihir Chhatre, a person scared to death of water, who would actually go on a beach and just sit on it for the whole time when his family goes in the water, was going for a camp which has nothing but water! The Dec  camp very well and I was selected to be a part of the next camp in March 09.

This camp was a special camp for students who had just appeared for their 10 Std. Board exams. We i.e me & Bishwajit (this guy deserves an article.. later..)  were told that this group would be buzzing with energy and would need to be kept a good eye on. After hearing this, all my 10^th std memories came rushing back, when me and my school mates had gone for a trek in the Himalayas.

Finally after getting everything organised, I went to my first pre-camp ever with Foliage. The worst part was I wasn’t doing the slideshow but explaining the What to Bring Kit. I mean slideshows are fun, you can put in anecdotes and what not, but reading the kit, was like explaining how to cook Maggi. I did my best. The first time I got to meet campers, but they seem to have taken me to be a substitute, and nobody even blinked at me .

But then, that was like the opening of the curtains to the movie, the trailer was yet to come, so was the movie.

Lets just skip all the back-office work and jump directly to the 28^th of March ,2009 the fated Saturday when all of us were to meet at the front porch of the Pune Railway Station. Me , Bishwajit & Shivani (another interesting person...), were gathered at the railway station awaiting the young and the fun. Just as said, they were on time geared up to what would be many of them’s first camp. All the anxiety, and nervousness was clearly visible on their faces. All was well and the train was on time  (phew!!) ...

Most of the group was together in a bogie, and being 10^th std students, the proved their worth. It was already decided that I would be a friend of theirs, someone like a undercover spy who would be talking and having fun with all the present / absent there. I entertained all. Let us just keep it at that. Cause typing  a on the spot joke, is a hard thing to do, and should never be tried with supervision. And unless you have goggles do that you wont have super – vision. Anyways, the train journey to Delhi was near perfect. The only reason I use the term near perfect being that a perfect journey would mean I got perfect sleep. Which I didn’t. I was sleeping on the floor at one of the compartments as one of the berth was taken by a kid, who seemed immune to my attempts of waking him up.

The next day went as the day before, where I was in the highest of spirits, and with loads of coffee, bring out some of the best / worst (everybody’s opinion differs) jokes, keep everybody’s mind off the 25 hrs journey that we were going under. There was a small incident about the eunuchs , but I prefer not writing about it. The cards, the jokes, continued right uptil we reached Nizamuddin or as per the Indian Railways call is NZM. The bus was waiting right at the bus stop. Our next destination was the Old Delhi Station to board the Mussorie Express at night. This train has a life history of being late, and was living upto its name. The train as fated was an hour and a half late. In the mean time we had our food at Comesum and it was pretty good. The camper’s weren’t allowed to take the bags inside and hence had me and Bishwajit had to take turns look after the luggage.

The train left on exactly on the delayed time, and having told the participants to go to sleep, they did!!! We woke up early in the morning to get down at Haridwar. The city of Haridwar, said to be one of the most holiest cities in India, was the place we would be picked up from the railway station. The bus was waiting for us at the station, and we proceeded to our campsite which would be around 2 hrs drive from Haridwar.

The bus journey wasn’t much fun. We crossed through the holy town, passed the Ganges, and just went right through the Rajaji National Park. It feels that we have done loads, but it wasn’t. Everything was just at a glance, and we reached Rishikesh. This was when all the campers could see the Ram Jhula, and now everybody knew that we were going to reaching the camp-site soon. And we did. 

I Turned an Chef... Part 1...

Leaving behind the city of Pune for my first ever trek as a leader, I was quite excited. Excited to the fact that, I could order participants to get me water filled from the tanks, excited over the fact that I could cook for the batch, and (if possible), earn some praise for my cooked food.

So, I left Pune carrying one of the most heaviest sacks that I had ever carried, in my 2 yrs experience (except for the 21kg bag which I carried for 30 mins in Arunachal). All the possible raw material was carried by me. You can name it. Everything. 5kgs of Potatoes, 4kgs of onions, 2 half kilo packets of tea, 1 kilo of milk powder, 1 kilo cauliflower, 25 lemons, chillies and even papads. Was I going for trekking was the first question that first came to my mind, when for the first time I lifted my bag. I had been shopping whole day for the foodstuffs, where the vendor gave me weird looks when I asked him for the vegetables. I had to even make my own bill, he was way too busy with other customers.

Lets skip all the boring travel, in which I was trying to keep an eye on the bag that , had all the food. But it was to no good. The bag, was kept of the carriers, which was exactly on top of the hood. So after a nervous six hrs of travel, we had the food, that each participant had brought with him, and after all the form filling, we left to ascend the fort.

Fast forward to, 3 feet. Well,….with that weight I was already falling back. Not literally, i.e. but I was lagging behind. But when you are carrying yourself for your first leader trek, you are way inspired, and you behave as if you are taking a stroll in the park. I was given company by a girl, who also was lagging behind and we reached the first platform, where everybody was waiting for us. They only thing, I was capable of noticing when I kept my bag down, was the glint in the batch’s eye, showing a bit of admiration for me. So, with our normal Ghoshana..

“ Maharaj, Praud Pratap Purandar,

Kshatriy, Kulawdans,

Sinhasanadhishwar,

Maharajadhiraj,

Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj ki…Jai…”

That one sentence that 1 stanza, is something that fills you up with enthusiasm that you will never experience before. When all 20 people shout JAI and those mountain also echo with you, you feel to be a part of the world that was ruled by the Great. You forget everything from then on, your past, your future. Everything. Your only aim is to reach that small needle hole, you can see. You don’t care about the weight, about what others might think. That one poem…

I Turned an Chef... Part 2...

After a bit of rest we leave for the rest of our hike that would take almost 2-3 hrs. I am walking my own speed, knowing that I can make it easily to the top. Fast forward…. After a couple of hours you reach the ladders that take you right up to the forts entrance. No no, not proper concrete stairs, but metal ladders that have an angle of round about 60-65 degrees. They were not like that 4 centuries back, there were basically rock cut steps with very easy access. But later, they were destroyed or eroded we never know. So to go to the main door you have to ascend these ladders now. Its fun. Its creaky. Its easy. And its entertaining to look down and see a fall of Atleast 30ft. So after competing that part, we were there on the fort, and our halt of the day. It was just around the time of sunset and hence some of the more enthusiastic people were given to go a bit more above and see the sunset. But, I got to give the first ever command in my life, please fill up the water bottles, we will need water to cook. He he he . That is and will be one of the most remembered moments of my life. So now, it was my time to take centre stage. The gas that was carried by pinakin was taken out, and I sat down, to setup what would be “my” kitchen for the next 18 hrs or so. The first item, was tea. Ofcourse everyone needed that and that was what would be made. But, I just turned into an assistant, when the tea was made by Pinakin. Later even the rassa that was to be made, was made by pinakin.The food was good, it always is, no doubt about it.

And hence I slept with a small fear that I would not be able to tell my mom what I had cooked. But with a new day came a new hope and I stepped forward. Used a small strategy. Woke up early, and made tea. And it rocked. I mean everyone were quite pleased and even if none of the literally said that, it was clear with the fact that everybody had a second serving and that I had to make tea again. Cool na? Well not exactly cool, but that hot drink still is fresh in my mind. The recipe, is simple, the drink tastes amazing and everybody is pleased. And hence seeing my cooking abilities, I was given the right to cook the main breakfast “pohe”. I food that I hate, hate to have in the city. Its so boring to eat that , in your house, sitting on a counch, reading a newspaper and thinking, I need to complete that assignment today.

But on a fort its different. Making the ingredient, “poha” , soaked in a plastic bag. Then adding a fodni to the, utensil on the camping cylinder. The smell, the noise of the fodni. The popping of mohori, the colour of turmeric. The adding of the chilly powder. Making sure that is doesn’t get blown into your eyes. Then the way to add pohe, knowing that if you don’t do this carefully, the whole batch will have to go down on a empty stomach. So you add the soaked “poha” with ease and then try to mix with the fodni. Then you mix it. Now that is something that I thought was fun but let me tell you its not. Because, unlike cooking in the city, you don’t have all the utensils and hence the utensil you have is filled to the brim. You are sure, you are in no mood to make the batch wait, while you make the same stuff a second time. The burner is so small that a inch here and there the utensil will fall. So with ease, and by wasting your new handkerchief you mix the two together. Now the colour you want has appeared and the only thing left to do is dress. I mean you cant possible, call yourself a cook, if you don’t decorate anything you have made. So I also had to do something. The way out, use desiccated coconut and mixing it with red chilly powder. And after steaming it for sometime, the end result, “pohe”. A easy sounding food stuff to make, having a really good taste.

I Turned an Chef... Part 3...

The only thing that was left, was the critic’s reply. It was quite pleasing, considering it was my first ever cooked item. Some agreed that it was good. Some felt that I could have done by adding some salt. Others felt quite pleased to have this as their breakfast and were ready to have another round. And that was what I was totally unprepared for. This is were I asked pinakin to take over and so I took a timeout, and roamed around the fort a bit. By the time I came back, the batch after having a colourless version of the pohe (turmeric was finished), was ready to leave. So with my bag considerably lighter, we descended the fort, where I again was given the opportunity to make our lunch and limbu sarbat. I wont bore you with the fact of how kichdi is made, only that its same as pohe only instead of “poha”, you use soaked rice and dal. So with that out of the way, I was to make the drink that consisted the last remaining item in my bag. Lemons. Lot of Lemons. The recipe: a lit bit of this, a little bit of that. I mean, first you squeeze the lemons. Then you add water. Then you add sugar. Then you add salt. Then you taste it. Then you increase this a bit, you increase that a bit. And its done. It should taste a bit tangy. There can never be a fixed recipe. So after a lot of playing around the drink was ready for the arriving batch (with almost no load, I was one of the first to reach the base). So after serving everyone with the sarbat, that has all the necessary ingredients that will tend to a tired person namely, sugar for glucose, water for dehydration, vitamin c, and even salt . it is the natural thing to have. Everybody pleased and everybody with a full stomach we get into our bus, with each person feeling that they had done something, they believed they would love to do again.

So that was how I turned a trek cook and now after a few treks of doing that am now in the regular army of male-chefs and sometimes, am asked the question, did you ever consider the option of doing hotel management.

But on a serious note, it is fun. You are responsible. You feel different. You don’t care if the food you have prepared would be given grade A in the cookery classes. You only care to the fact that you have done something that few people get to do. Anybody can cook, with all accessories around them, but a few who can without much instrumental help. And you fell proud to be a part of that selected few.

Long Leap Towards...Trekking...(Part 1...)

For the past 2 years I have been addicted to a very healthy habit of trekking. Don’t know how I did get attracted to it nor who or what forced me to do it. But now when I look back I remember the first trek that simply and still is the best trek I have done ever. I think this will be my first really serious blog about travel but that doesn’t matter does it? It still is a travel blog.
I had taken up engineering diploma after my 10th standard examinations, thus getting myself surrounded into a pile of 30-40 inches thick textbooks. My college was more like a 9 to 5 job. Literally. All my school friends, if there were any, had taken up 11th with no other aim than to see who has the lowest college attendance. Hence forgotten to world, lived mihir, totally unknown to the fact that many other beautiful things were there to see.
Every new years till then was more like a hazy morning to me. Each year was the same, and even though each year we did something different, I could not remember what exactly I did. That year, a friend who runs and ran a trekking business asked me wether I would like to join them for what they called “New Year’s Trek”. The simple idea being the fact that leaving behind all the silly fried and ever present wafers, you reach up to the second highest fort in maharashtra and see rise of the new year, in clear skies and way above the world. Technically 1870m above sea level.
Thus after long deliberation, and convincing my parents of the fact that I was totally fit to do that trek, I left my mothers clouded eyes, which kept repeating, “How shall we celebrate the new years without you”… that’s the best moral boost you could ever get while leaving for a journey. Since I was on my first trek I was under the vague and beautiful impression that at the mountaintop/ forttop, I could call my parents on their mobile and wish them (remember the fact that, I was still wayyy to young to have a mobile.)
So we met and the trek, which was supposed to be comfortable with a very big private bus, turned out to be very sweaty due to the totally overfull State Transport Bus. Not only did we have to make up for being late, but the hunger had to be controlled by eating fruits and seeing to it that we did not make juices out of them and made the jhabbas of the villagers taste them…

Long Leap Towards...Trekking...(Part 2...)

We were to do the highest peak in maharashtra first (nice start to a trekking carrier, right??? ) and hence we got down to the very small village of “Bari”, where they had a orange coloured archway , that welcomed trekkers to the peak. Another bad news hit us that one of the tents that we were to be used got left behind in the bus. Now, after traveling for 4-5 hrs and taking accepting everything we were ready to ascend that peak. With a walk that began at 2 pm, we were expected to reach the top at 6pm. And to my great surprise we did, with enough time to look back at how overrated climb to the summit was. Anything, anybody else says is totally NA for me, cause I had done the highest peak with enough time to see the sunset and that also on my first ever trek.
The way back was a bit more fun, with only some torches all we were depending upon was a few beams of light to get us back down. I had a torch, I had carried everything (Don’t laugh, but even a toothbrush and a paste…), and I had the opportunity to play a small cricket match while getting down. It was really fun, getting down with the person with the torch getting down, then showing the torch to others to get them down. After passing the baton of light Atleast a 100 times around and after a couple of hours we reached the village, where we were to stay for the night. Reheating the parathas on a vessel and a portable gas which took a hell lot of a time, we had our first hot meal, and knowing that we had cleared the first hurdle, we went to sleep with the hope of a nice beautiful sunrise that will bring a new light to our day that was really tiring.
The next morning passed of, like a express train running out of control. Nothing made sense, waking up, walking to find a good shelter for removing waste from your body, going back, making tea, putting your sleeping bag, back in the bag, and then finally knowing that we had a nice steep 5 hr climb up to what was supposedly a site in heaven. I was not in that big a hurry to take my place in heaven, but then it didn’t mind to get Atleast a taste of it. So with all our luggage (you wont call my bag a sack, cause it was a schoolbag, with my sleeping bag secured to the top of the bag with nylon ropes.) I knew I was prepared for what was not needed. Unnecessary necessary things, that would trouble me all the way up, even if not all but Atleast half way. 1 and the only thing I am and was afraid of and am, is my small mouth who thinks it is a 24hr medical shop, always ready to supply what people demanded. So our walk started and even though I would, call it tiring, it was nevertheless entertaining. I got my first ever lesson on butterflies (the small but colourful insects.) I never understand why they are called so, yeah I know any living being with 6 legs is called a insect, but its not fair. We should call the teddies. Not only that, but I also survived to play the second innings of the match we played yesterday. The leaders had all the elements you ever required, poetic, singers, comedians, strict, entertaining, and more than anything else human. I mean , after trekking with so many groups, I have had many experiences, 1 being where I was told, not to take a picture of a butterfly, because I was a participant. So after being accompanied by the leaders to the camp, I was really tired, we entered to what they called heaven. And believe me, it was really more like being in clouds than in heaven. Very Cold… you know… but it was beautiful. And I still think it is The Perfect campsite. A small stream flows on the left, supplying you nice clean water. Good jungle cover, for putting up a good campsite. A nice big fall down, making sure you don’t sleep walk. Having reached the midway point, we were to camp there, and I was introduced to how to put up a tent. It was fun. The pegs, the rain cover, the hood and I didn’t know the names…but whatever they were, it was good putting them together. After making thousands of permutable combinations, we finally put up a tent that was allowed to have only 6 people in its stomach, but we had already lost a tent and hence, we had to do a bit of adjusting. Hence all the odd 35 people had to accommodate, 2 people more in each tent. Later we learnt that the 12 leaders , slept in a tent of 6. I don’t remember the night much, but it was quite warm. I don’t know what caused that, but it was warm.