ITS THE SEASON

The air was laden with the aroma of the festivities around. So typical for this time of the year. The streets were all lit up in bright colours. Matching with the spirits of the crowd in the streets.  

Dibakar was engrossed in these scenes as he watched out from his jewellery showroom. The glass did not allow any sound to seep in. But the positive energy and the sheer joy and happiness was somehow flooding inside. 

Dibakar was not expecting any business to happen this evening as the whole city was busy in enjoying themselves. But he really did not find the courage to stay alone in his small studio apartment today. Definitely not an appealing option. So he had asked Ranjan to keep the showroom open, more as his escape route from the desolation of solitude.

It was around the same time some years back. The incidents that took place silently had shook his life totally. Tonight while gazing out in the tumultuous craze he was suddenly taken back to that time. When a sudden illness of his father forced him to take over this family business. His life plans were though grossly different. He was on the verge of setting up his life with Meenakshi. Both had lucrative job offers abroad and were planning to get relocated and embark on a new future that lay ahead. But destiny had other plans. He was made to chose between his legacy and his dreams. He chose the former and his relationship with Meenakshi ended pretty abruptly. She tried to reason with Dibakar one last time before breaking up. She had said that taking the plunge will give him the opportunity to take care of his ailing father and family in a much better way. But Dibakar was always unsure about this, staying back and taking up the family business definitly seemed to an option with much less risk

Dibakar still remembers her parting statement, “For a more secure future sometimes you would need to take a risk every now and then, where you stay unsure of what will happen. But if you show some courage and take that risk, more often than not it reaps well. But do you that courage in you commit to that to that uncertainty?”

Dibakar was dragged back into reality by the quintessential jingle that is linked with the opening of the showroom main door. Dibakar could only see a timid hand with a tentative push on the door. And that brought back Dibakar to his senses. He was back again as the shop owner of family run jewellery shop. Before Dibakar could react a nervous face peeped in the shop. The face had an unsure feel and Dibakar could make out that he must have been in his early twenties. And with in the same instant he was almost pushed inside the shop which created a deep impression of embarrassment in his contour. The culprit of the crime was a young girl about the same age. And she made her way in as soon as she could clear her path with a contrasting confidence. And that had embossed a sense of achievement in her already enthusiastic demeanour. Dibakar was now sure whom to talk to as a prospective buyer. The enthusiasm spilled over as she instructed him sharply “Move in, nah. Get inside”. 

Dibakar was smart enough to take the clue and he promptly took the opportunity to start a conversation to convert it in to a successful business deal.

“Yes Madam. How may I help you?”

She was smart and clear in her reply “We are looking for a jewellery set. A full wedding set for the bride. Yes that’s what we want”

Dibakar was momentarily taken aback by this unabashed confidence but reacted quickly “Yes of course! If you may please let me know your budget I will gladly show our range accordingly”.

It was his turn to join the conversation now and with the same tentativeness he said “Something in the imitation range please.”

“But it should definitely look as grand as ever” She added before Dibakar could react “And it should have the colour green like the saree I have here”. And she took out a saree from a small bag she was holding on her hand which Dibakar was not observant enough to notice. But Dibakar could definitely see the tentativeness in her male counterpart suddenly increased; and mixed with a sense of ignominy made him shrunk a bit. Dibakar now called up Ranjan to open up the required cabinet and show whatever was there in the stock. 

Dibakar was witnessing his two young customers closely and saw how she was able to rub on the enthusiasm in her male partner and how they were now both participating equally in selecting the perfect set for her. Dibakar was also trying to create a story to go with them. They did not seem like the normal effluent customers in his shop. But that deficit was aptly made up by their youthful exuberance. They are definitely planning to get married but why they are alone on this festive day? There must be some inconsistencies and disagreements with the elders. But what else? Are they planning to run away from home? What will the future hold for them? Dibakar was lost in his thoughts when suddenly a triumphant decisive “This is the one” made the present more important than the future. 

Dibakar turned his attention to his customers as Ranjan would need his help to close out the deal. She was gleefully stating again “This has to be the one. It has the exact green shade of my Saree and the design seems perfect for me too. Please please please. Get me this, please”. He was though looking at the price tag with piercing eyes. And it took some courage in him to look up towards Dibakar and utter with a lot of discomfort “Sir the price is a little too much us. What can be the best price that you may offer us?”

“Well you can see that due to the festive season the prices have been already reduced by 15%. And any further reduction is next to impossible” replied Dibakar in a very businessman like fashion. 

He looked back at her and said “I don’t have this much money with me. Let us select a cheaper set, please." And he "spelt out an amount to her. 

“But I have some with me. We can use some from there”. 

“We really should not be doing that. We have kept that for ...”

She did not allow him to finish and retorted “Always calculating and planning for the future. Who knows what’s in store for us in the future?” And with a small pause she said with a deep intent “You also have the option of asking from our parents also. But can you manage the courage to ask them with a straight face and honest heart? Do you have that courage in you?”

Silence descended instantly in the room. She had a sense of dissatisfaction in her face while he has his face facing the floor with his sense of ignominy back with its full glory. Dibakar meanwhile was struck speechless with this déjà vu feeling. 

And it was Dibakar who finally found the courage to break the silence. “Oh let me see. Hmm. Ahem. Well indeed this is an item from the old stock. And let me calculate.” And after fidgeting a bit with the calculator. Two pairs of  pensive eyes following it closely while a dumbfounded Ranjan was too surprised to even react. Dibakar finally decided “An additional 15% discount is definitely possible on this model. My apologies for missing it the first time.” The pensive looks turned into beaming smiles. 

A few moments later the hand which was once tentative was now confident in pushing the door open wide. He had her hand held firmly on his other hand as both of them ventured out in the unknown with new found belief and faith. The musical chimes from the open door provided the ideal backdrop as Dibakar looked out through the glass into the future. Courage seemed to be a newly gained character he could now associate with himself very clearly.

It's a Love Game

Please rein in your imaginations here, and don’t get blown away by the title! This is not related to any amorous sensual experience, so let your emotions be in check; and neither should it be linked to Lady Gaga’s venture from the debut album containing the critically acclaimed “I wanna take a ride on your disco stick” flick, so no luck there as well! But this piece has a lot to with love, quite a bit to do with games and tad speck about a love game as well! Hope that it has now started to bring back some sensible sense in to the readers’ mind; and the word tennis is gradually coming in to the picture!

Flashback:

July 08, 1990. The day will be more remembered in sports history for the FIFA Football World Cup final where Germany defeated Argentina, may be in one of the ugliest matches in the history of the Jogo Bonito! But for me it was the start of a love affair that was to stay with me for lifetime.
A bit more detail now.

The football world cup of 1990 was a way more than just another football tournament for us, the Chaudhuris of Kalighat, along with our extended families and very near and dear ones as well! There was an arrangement of a mini betting syndicate where each member of the family put his or her money on a team (no no, don’t get excited here, the amount of money each person put in was only a meager amount of rupees ten only!), and that developed and culminated in to a grand dinner on the finale. We all gathered to watch the football match together in our parental house in Kalighat. The match between Germany and Argentina was supposed to be aired pretty late at night, and the Wimbledon final just happened to the perfect prelude to that. Tennis at that time was not a very common place sport for us; that is to say we never followed tennis to the extent we followed cricket or football. The opportunities were also limited since the area tennis used to capture in the sports page compared to what cricket or football got was directly proportional to the size of the tennis court to that of a football field! Forget about TV coverage. But I being an ardent sports follower was aware of the surroundings and beyond. Becker and Edberg or Graf and Sabatini of that era, Lendl and Wilander or Navratilova as well, and the Mcenroe, Connors, Borg or Laver or even the local Zeeshan Ali or Ramesh Krishnans  were not exactly household names to me, but were not complete strangers as well. So, even though there were hardly any takers for the gentleman’s final match at the Wimbledon, I along with my brother Debanik and my friend Sambarta were actually looking ahead to it.
Boris Becker was more of a crowd favorite due to his charisma and vibe, while the so-called-boring Stefan Edberg was actually in the form of his life in the way he had decimated the World number 1 Ivan Lendl in the semifinals. The match started as anticipated, Edberg cruising through the first two sets with ease, 6-2 and 6-2. We were all expecting a short final, and a quick dinner.  But Becker, being the champion he is, began his comeback, and he took the next two sets 6-3 and 6-3. The final set started. The momentum was totally with Becker, and so were much of the crowd, both in the stadium and in the room. Deep inside though I was pinning for Edberg, a bit due to the typical underdog effect, but mostly due to the tennis he had played that evening until that point; effortless with his backhand, silk and smooth in the way he moved around the grass courts and the style and finesse in the way he played the game, calm composed and yet totally humble and unassuming. And as expected, Becker started stronger in the final set; broke Edberg to move 3 games to 1 up. With Edberg known to be the unexciting player, lacking the fire inside, Becker was looking at his fourth Wimbledon title. But then something changed, and Edberg broke back and then broke Becker again to finally take the fifth set at 6-4. I remember the war cry that came out from inside at the moment of glory; and something that changed inside me; an unknown emotion; and a new fan for Stefan Edberg was born that day.

I started to subscribe to Sportstar and Sportsworld magazines as my source of data and to collect pictures, news items and any other trivia that I could put my hands upon which was any way related to Stefan Edberg. A true fan in all sense, but more importantly a love for a new game had emerged, as inside I was always in confusion whether I like cricket more than tennis, or is it the other way round. (Football, badminton and table tennis always played a farfetched second fiddle).
As the years passed by, so did the era of Edberg. The next bunch of Samprases and Agassis did not impress me much, though I was awed by Steffi Graf almost to the extent of Edberg. And when Federer happened, I was too old to be a fanatic, though somehow I felt a similar sort of feel. This now I believe is only due to the love of the game, I was hooked into the game so much, and I could not live without following one player very seriously.

The Grand Slam

On a parallel plane, during the time between 1990 and 1993, after the Wimbledon final Leo Grand Slam happened in our life. As our (I am using plural here to include my brother Debanik) involvement with tennis grew, we tried out our own simple and economic way of including tennis into our life and lifestyle. Our first tryst with practical tennis experience was a crude and innovative way of using cricket bats and balls as the means to play. The location could be anywhere, our terrace (hard courts) or a small ground (grass courts)! Lawn tennis was a bit out of our reach in those days but obviously that did not deter us for having the experience of the real deal! And during this time Leo Mattel toys introduced Grand Slam in the market; a pretty advanced and real-life-feel-like toy set of tennis set of two rackets and a sponge ball. As far as I could remember, the set used to cost 199 rupees; and we got one! The playing experience of tennis changed totally.

But we encountered an issue pretty soon, the ball got lost after a few months! So we tried with rubber balls instead, and the rackets were not designed for it; and pretty soon one of the rackets got damaged a bit! So we craved for another new set to be bought, and this time we got a single racket and ball set, which I believe came at 149. So we were back to normal playing terms, and before long we also located a shop in the Behala market which sold sponge balls as well! So we were destined for glory and glamour after all. It became popular in our friends circle as well, and we got promoted to use the badminton court at Rhitwick’s housing society, and we created a tennis group, where we had Sayan, Nilesh, Diptayan, Rhitwick and we two brothers playing almost every weekend at Rhitwick’s place. It will be pertinent to note here that in most of these matches, my brother used to win, and sometimes Rhitwick. I hardly remember me winning! But the fun was more in playing and enjoying, rather than winning. (Although the great Martina Navratilova may disagree a bit, as she once said “Who ever said, ‘It’s not whether you win or lose that counts,’ probably lost.”)  But this craze gradually subsided, and ultimately faded out of our life mostly due to study pressures and maybe we outgrew the sponge balls! And active tennis went out of my life for some time, and it got limited to only watching matches in television and news! But the love for the game remained.

The Tale of Two Cities

The third chapter in this love game happened in the first decade of the twenty first century. Those were my first few years in my work life. And it relates to two separate jobs with two separate companies, and a couple of deputation trips to two different locations in Europe, two Grand slam cities to be precise!
The first one was a couple of month deputation to the headquarters of Technip at Paris during my tenure with Technip KTI. The time was most opportune, post Spring and early Summer, to be exact; when the city manifests its splendor and grandeur to the maximum. I had quite a few weekends in Paris to explore and discover the city and around. Beyond the Eiffel or the Louvre or the Notre dame, I was patiently waiting for one major event in Paris – The French Open! I had the chance to see Agassi and Sampras and the rest! The weekend arrived and I was there after breakfast, at late morning on Saturday! But I had a huge disappointment; the tickets had already been sold out for the day! And the counters were actually all closed! How insensitive! I then tried my luck the non conventional (and borderline illegal) way to get a ticket, but the rates they were charging were too high to take the risk. So be it. French Open became an event I watched from the streets, and the nearest visible courts hosted, may be a junior doubles match! And I managed the best possible view of the available, and continued to watch the match for almost an hour. But something was always better than nothing!

The second was a 10 day trip to Reading from Foster Wheeler Kolkata, which is about 45 miles west of London, just before the Christmas. Since it was for 10 days, I had a weekend at hand and took the opportunity to have day trip in London. My to-do list had the Wembley Stadium, 221B Baker Street, Tower Bridge and among other the Wimbledon, the Mecca of tennis. Being off season, it was already closed, but I took quite a detour from the normal tourist route for a day tour in London just to visit the place, and at least touch the main gate!

Modern Times

Jump to October 2015, and it is time to introduce my friend Mahendra to the readers here, the catalyst to the last phase of this Love Game affair. The first proposal (not the indecent type!!) from Mahendra to me was though induced by Sushree, and after quite a lot of deliberations and discussions a team was confirmed and concluded. It included Mahendra, Prabhat, Pranay and yours truly! The venue was selected as the Saket Sports Complex in Delhi and we started our journey together on a chilly January morning in 2016, the time for our first tennis class was specified by Sudhir Sir at 7:00 am. Three of us from Gurgaon travelled via the Delhi Metro and the fourth one joined us at the Sports Complex. Warming up on the first day was an issue considering our novice-ness and the winter morning nippiness. It was actually a historic moment when I held a real tennis racket for the first time, though it was a borrowed one from Sudhir Sir for the training; but in any case it was the first time I held a real tennis racket; that too a Wlison one!
The first hour of tennis training happened like a dream, I learnt about the grip, especially the difference between a forehand a backhand ones. And when I actually hit a few balls after a short duration of shadow practice it was still something hard to believe for me, as if, I was still dreaming. But my experience in tennis in my senses made me feel like a pro, someone with quite a bit of experience in playing the actual game!

We named our group “The  would be Nadals”, simply because, our court had a Nadal poster just adjacent to the benches! In due course of time “The would be Nadals” became “The Nadal Parindeys”, a late realization that would-be-Nadal was actually a way over the top expectation from us. In due course of time, each one of our team member got their own rackets, I got a Head mid level racket for me; and we also tried to make the once-a-week affair to a more regular one. We tried to look for options around Gurgaon so that we can hit a few balls on a weekday evening after office. But this faded out gradually, yet retaining the weekend early morning sojourn of tennis at Gurgaon which is built on the strong bond developed amongst us with a common goal of hitting a tennis ball across the net for a clear winner!

Parting Notes
 
Never stop dreaming, never forget
What you are made of is dreams.
Never stop dreaming, never regret
To hope and follow your dreams
Never Stop Dreaming  -  Berlin Ballroom

Dedicated to all the “Nadal Parindeys” of the world, and especially to my group of Mahendra Kadao, Prabhat Srivastava and Pranay Gadre for helping me realizing my dream and putting back the faith in me that dreams can come true irrespective to age, date and time.

A Slice of Awadh

How many miles a man must travel before he gets his perfect biryani. The answer my friend is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind. And the aroma and the smell in the wind will lead you to really great distances! And that is how our trip to Lucknow was planned. The plan though was aided by the sudden offer of extra low airfares in the internet which made the return tickets available to us in pretty low value. The journey from Delhi was booked in the Lucknow Mail and the hotel chosen was the Park Inn, which is now the La Place Sarovar Portico (a brand that was tried and tested, both by the traveling community as well as us). Choosing this hotel was also due its location at Hazratganj, an old section of the city and which would give a real feel of the Awadhi charm.

We came out a bit early from office on Thursday. And after an early dinner we were on our way around 7:45 pm, with more than two hours in our hand to cope up with the unpredictable traffic. And unpredictable it really was and we reached the station in a mere forty five minutes! The wait at the station was a bit boring. We waited at the waiting room, tried out a bit of ice cream; while we watched quite few trains come and go. Even after all this it was still just quarter past nine. We trudged from platform 1 to platform 16, our designated platform. And the train was yet to arrive. Debarghya was on the verge of losing his patience and we were at our limits as well. But it was around this time that the train chuffed into the platform. Things stabilized pretty fast after that. Debarghya settled down quickly in his allotted lower berth and with in half an hour was fast asleep.


We reached pretty much on time at Lucknow. And like any other big city in India we had a bit of a harrowing time just after getting out of the railway station; as we were almost swarmed around by a hoard of auto rickshaw-wallas. Sushree acted quite prudently, and managed to hop in an auto, which was quite not prepared for taking in any commuters. A bit startled, he led us to the near by pre paid auto booth. From there on, the journey to our hotel was smooth.


The first couple of hours at the La Place Sarovar Portico hotel are worth forgetting fast. We had to wait at the not so comfortable hotel lobby for our room to be ready. And that was more than an hour and half. In the time being, we had enjoyed the wonderful spread at the breakfast buffet. Then the room that was made available was a nightmare to say the least. Sushree again took the initiative this time and her strive for a better room bore immediate fruit as the hotel authorities responded with in an hour. This time the room was definitely more habitable.


We took turns in getting refreshed and then move out for lunch. We had planned beforehand to have our lunch at Tunday Kababi at the nearby Saharaganj Mall. We moved out and walked to the destination. Debarghya was most probably amazed at finding himself in front of a McDonalds! And we had to treat him with his favorite aloo bhaja (fries) and an egg burger. Then we went window shopping for some time! This may sound a bit strange, but in reality the weather outside at Lucknow and our energy level after the nights travel would not have allowed us to do anything else. And after an hour or so, the hunger pangs became strong enough to lead us to the food court at the top floor. We found Tunday pretty easily, and Debarghya located Dominos! So we all had whatever we had asked for. Debarghya had pizza. Sushree went for biryani and korma and I opted for the galawati tunday special kebabs with paratha. And yummy it really was. The kebabs were soft and moist. A real melt in the mouth affair. The biryani was almost perfect, definitely better than what we are used to get in Delhi (a strange mixed variety of spicy rice, a bizarre cross between the Hyderabadi and the Lucknowi variety). The korma was a bit of a dampener, though. After the lunch it was really difficult for us to do anything at all, but we somehow managed to trudge back to our hotel room for a well earned siesta!


Afternoon was planned to venture out for another item Lucknow is famous for – Chikan – the traditional embroidery style from Lucknow, which when literally translated, means embroidery and is believed to have been introduced by Nur Jehan, Mughal emperor Jahangir's wife. So we took a cycle rickshaw and driver (!) guided us through crowded winding roads of old Lucknow to a quaint shop. The shop at basement though was a shopper’s delight. The range was enormous and we bought quite few items from there. The rickshaw had waited up for us. And back he brought us to our hotel.


Dinner was room service of roti, chicken and rice. And the food took longer than normal to arrive and was a bit cold as well. But the sleep was very comfortable. The first day at Lucknow was well spent.

The next was planned for a city tour. We booked our car at the hotel itself, had our breakfast and were out by 10 in the morning. We were guided by the driver to the various locations. We started with the most popular Lucknowi tourist spot, the Bara Imambara and the Bhoolbhulaiya. We dodged our way past the guides into the Imambara. The maintenance at the place was crying out desperately for a non-step fatherly attitude towards itself from the Archeological Survey of India. The crowd around was also mostly local people, and mostly with a religious mindset for the place. We were hence quite the unbefitting type, who were a bit out of place. The Imambara itself was magnificent and magnanimous. It housed the very unassuming grave of Sultan Asaf-ud-Daulah, the central hall of Bara Imambara, which is said to be the largest arched hall in the world. And also the Taziya and Zari works inside. We wandered around the place for a bit, and then ventured towards the Bhoolbhulaiya upstairs. And the Bhoolbhulaiya really stood up to its reputation. The narrow passages and the play of the light and shade in the alleys along the periphery of the place was the perfect prologue to the call of the unknown and the darkness inside. The invitation to move inside was open to us, the obscurity of the dark alleys inside was as if luring us to move in to the trap. And we ventured in, without a guide. We agreed to move back and retrace the steps back as soon as we feel a bit of discomfort of being lost! And we may not have travelled even 50 meters in the maze, when something happened. It was not even near to pitch dark inside. And even the clamor and clatter of the crowd outside was audible, though it had dimmed down to a mere hush-hush. But at the next junction, something made us feel somewhat eerie inside. And hence we decided to move back. We retraced our path very confidently, or at least that is what we thought. But the return trip started to seem longer than expected, and though it seemed that we were pretty close to getting out, we were not able to get out of the labyrinth! We were out in the open pretty quickly after that, but the exit point was at least a hundred meters away from the entrance we had used. It was bit of nerve wrecking, but had its own taste of excitement. But one really fails to understand the entertainment value of this location. It is believed that the Sultan used to play hide and seek with his Begums in this place! It could easily have been used as a means of punishment as well; people left inside and will go crazy on being unable to get out on their own. So each one will have their own interpretation of the Bhoolbhulaiya!


We took a mini break after coming out of the labyrinth, with a bit of cold drinks and chips. (We needed that!) We overlooked the Bowli or the Shahi Hammam, a step well with running water from the river Gomti (no more going up and down steps) and just looked over at the quite colossal Asfi Mosque to reach our car.
We passed by the great Rumi Darwaza towrds the Chhota Imamabara. The Chhota Imambara was a beautiful building, though not the architectural wonder in the same league as the Taj Mahal, as it definitely lacked the majesty, yet it was quite exquisite. The gilded dome and the chandeliers inside were its most striking features. Just outside the Chhota Imambara was the Satkhanda, a building which was supposed to be seven stories high matching the Qutb Minar or the Leaning tower of Pisa, yet it laid there unfinished with only four completed stories in it. So much like the story of our lives, what could have been and what it actually is!

We stopped over for a bit near the Ghanta ghar or the Clock tower. At a staggering 221 feet, it stands tall as the tallest clock tower in the country. But here as well, the lack of proper maintenance was pretty much evident. The tower had been renovated, rather repaired, but it looked as if it was built may be couple of decades ago. The real touch of the Sultanate had gone missing!Our taxi next dropped us off at the bank of the Gomti River. The river was just a bit better than a normal rivulet, and there was only a small portion of the bank which was carefully patched up, paved and maintained for the tourists and may be the local poeple as well. But beyond that patch, it provided the sorry picture of any normal Indian river; polluted, uncared and dirty! But the gentle cool breeze provided a sense of freshness, which prompted us to sit by the riverside for a brief moment and enjoy a mail train crossing the old bridge across the river at a distance.
Next in the agenda was the Residency. Though it was not much recommended by our driver, yet we insisted that we visit the place. We have read about it in many a place; history books and novels and story books alike! And in the end we were not disappointed. Though the lack of proper maintenance was eminent here as well, but it was definitely the cleanest place that we visited that day. There was an unusual problem though. The area was lush green with lots of trees around, and that attracted huge number of love birds! They seemed to have flocked there in pairs all across the area. If you could keep that unpleasantness away from your vision, the place otherwise is charming. It gives a real feel of the era gone by, and a recreates the feel of the mutiny, and was able to conjure up the chaos and violence of the riots. None of the building, except the one where there is now a museum, is intact! And broken walls and shattered ceilings really tell you a story. We wandered around the place for some time, even ventured inside the not so impressive museum till we were almost famished. So we moved on to our next and may be the most important agenda for the day – Lunch.As per plan, lunch was planned at the Dastarkhwan. The driver easily led us to one of the three outlets of the famous eating joint in Lucknow, most probably the Lalbagh branch. The interiors of the place were hanging in balance between being too glossy and being outright shabby. But overall the place was comfortable. We quickly placed the order, which was guided by the reviews and feedback of the place. The galawati kebab with paratha, the biryani and the special chicken masala with rotis arrived in no time. (Sad to say, they were not serving sheermal for some reasons on that day.) And the food quality really lived up to the reputation of the place. The biryani was one of the best that we have ever tasted, if not the best. The chicken masala was exquisitely spiced and had chunks of chicken, the meat of which was falling from the bones. The kebabs were also a melt in the mouth affair. In the end we had shahi tukda, which was equally gorgeous! After gorging through the brilliant meal, it was time to head back to the hotel.


In the evening we ventured out to have a feel of the city, trying to look at it from pretty close. And we took a cycle rickshaw towards the local open market in the Aminabad area. The chaos and commotion of a Saturday evening, countless numbers of small shops abundant with variety, and waves of local people aloof of the three of us, sweeping by us with their daily chores in their minds. Roaming around aimlessly for some time we decided to head back. In stead of going straight back to the hotel, we left the cycle rickshaw in the Mahatma Gandhi road. The street was lined with showrooms of modern big brand names. The buildings on many occasions were still pretty old ones, and strikingly most of them were colored in the same patterns of white and black, and this color code was irrespective of the brand that it housed. It was strikingly strange and somewhat mystically beautiful as well. Debarghya managed to get some small toys as his means of passé-la-temp in the hotel, and we some sweets quite typical of Lucknow for taking back home, and we walked back to the hotel, thoroughly drained of energy.


Dinner was Chinese, far away from the real essence of Awadhi charm, aroma and taste; but it was in an attempt to retain the wonderful memories of Dastarkhwan and to keep it as the lasting memory of Lucknow. And sleep was just around the corner.


The next morning we had our flight at 10:50 to Delhi. We had our breakfast pretty early, and checked out around nine. La Place, in their attempt to make amends to the bygone blunders and to heal the wounds and scars left earlier, made our third morning breakfast complimentary, and the services they provided for the airport drop free of charge. This left in us a good lasting feeling for the hotel, something like having a very good dessert after an ordinary starter. It really makes you linger on with the good taste after you have had your meal. The whole Lucknow trip was in effect like that, an aftertaste which involuntarily creates a smile in the face.


The trip back was easy, comfortable and uneventful. Indigo as always made it on time to Delhi, and we had some other elaborate plans after the landing, but it is definitely not a part of this adventure story. As this story is about our tryst with the Awadhi culture, cuisine and chronicles; stories of the past, present and future. And looking back now, the adventure was really overall a grand one, which shall remain in our memories for long.

Driving Master Debarghya

The name of this article is a cheap copy of the Oscar winning movie "Driving Miss Daisy". But apart from providing an inspiration in the title of this article the rest of the story is definitely original and unique. This is regarding our son Debarghya and his love (which is now a passion almost) of riding his car. So much so that our car is almost like his car now. In general he loves to travel. And on any means of transport, be it bus, train, auto, rickshaw, or any other mode of travel. And this is actually the main inspiration of this story and the bottom line as well.

We have been making travel plans and implementing them once in two months. And this has been hampered by our work pressure and our travel to the US. So when we started to look for options in late June for making arrangements for July, it was already too late. And thus Jaipur happened as a fall back plan. We booked The Holiday Inn and decided to travel by road, in our own car. We chose the weekend of 19-20-21 July mainly because my brother was planning to stay out of station in the same weekend. And yes, finally when the day arrived, we were all set to go.

We had planned to start at around 6 in the morning. But we actually started around 7 after completing our morning chores. The effect of that one hour delay in starting actually compounded to a two hour delay in arriving in Jaipur. And me being a stickler for routines, schedules and timetables was bit annoyed in the time we were stuck really badly in the huge queue of trucks and lorries; but in the end we were travelling without a schedule, we were free of any routines and we were actually travelling to chill out. And hence in the end it really did not matter. We made a stop for breakfast at Sagar Ratna a bit after ten in the morning. And we had a very heavy and sumptuous breakfast. The second half of the journey was much smoother and faster. And we checked in at 1pm at the Holiday Inn.

We took some time to freshen up and surprisingly Debarghya had a gala time in the shower room. We were trying to recollect our days from the past, where we had to request for buckets and mugs from housekeeping! But this time it was totally different! And during our stay he had been independently taking baths almost thrice daily!

We went down for lunch and ordered Laal Mas. To our expectation it was not Laal (red) at all! The Makki Kumbh Masala was though more likeable. The taste and the spice limits of the food have been toned down to suit the taste of the foreign visitors. And surprisingly even in the low season the crowd around us were foreigners in majority. And a group of tourists speaking Spanish as well. Sushree tried to coax me into getting into a conversation with the group. But my introvert nature prevailed. After lunch we came back to our room and took full advantage of the comfortable sleeping facilities. We loitered out of our beds around five, had tea and cookies in our room; and decided to roam and rustle around to the Mansagar lake. As soon as we got out of the hotel and reached the streets, a bus arrived at the bus stop at our doorstep. And then in a sudden bout of madness we found ourselves in it. Definitely Debarghya was the happiest in the lot. We went up to the conductor and asked him where did the bus go. He asked us back where we wanted to go, and with a slight chuckle. Jalmahal it is; and we were there in a jiffy.

The evening was warm but comfortable. And a nice stroll by the lake would actually hurt nobody. The crowd around was also gradually building up; but unlike our last time experience it was mostly the locals who were there and hence the overall population was also much more bearable. Just to add here we had visited Jaipur in April; and during that time as well we had travelled by road; but we had my brother Debanik and his wife Pragati for company. We had stayed in the Trident that time which is by the side of Jalmahal; so our evening stroll in effect took us back to April in a way. We were all missing the company of them; but Debarghya somehow was missing them the most. He had been looking for them ever since we stopped over at Sagar Ratna for breakfast. From that time onwards he had been asking for them; and even after checking in at Holiday Inn he was looking for the play area of the Trident (a facility for which the hotel management should be commended heavily). Sushree and myself were also recollecting our fresh memories from April. One more item from our April tour was also missing! And that is a vendor selling small Chinese made toy items by the lakeside! Vendors with local artefacts as memorabilia were there, but the vendor with small nick knack toys, mostly chinese made and hence cheap, was missing. He was important as Debarghya had asked for the specific truck and top he got from there last time as soon as we had arrived at Jaipur. Human memory is strange business!

After an hour or so at Jalmahal, and after having a round of Patashe (the local name for Panipuri or Fuchka) and tea we walked back to the hotel. We ordered Continental dinner at our room. Debarghya got pizza (which was pretty ordinary), Sushree ordered the grilled chicken steak (which was quite dry) and I went for pasta with bacon and egg (which was not great, but best among the lot). Sleep easily arrived after that and the first day was over just like that.
The next morning started normally. We had bed tea, had our bath before the breakfast, and had a sumptuous breakfast at the restaurant below. The spread was not that awesome, though! We had booked a car for our day trip and we were on our way at 10:30 am to the Albert Hall, which is a museum in a historic building. The museum was not anything out of the world. But is a place where you can spend a bit of your time if you do not have any other pressing thing to do in Jaipur. Debarghya naturally did not enjoy much. So we got out faster than we had expected. And since we had an hour or so to kill we were driven to Sanganer as per our driver's advice. Sanganer is known for the cottage industries and handicrafts for which Rajasthan is famous for; and we could not resist ourselves from completing our Puja shopping for our parents. From there we came with our bags full and our wallets a bit empty. Then we went LMB for lunch; and was back to our hotel by 3:30. And an afternoon siesta followed, mostly driven by the lack of proper TV channels!

Afternoon was planned for another bus ride; but this time it was a longer one to Amer and for that we were out on the streets around 5:30. The weather was most beautiful. There was a slightest of drizzle; more like droplets of water being blown away by the wind like dust; which hardly wets us. The temperature was also very soothing. But the dampener of it was the long wait we had to put up with for our bus. But route number 5 had almost vanished. And when went up to our limit of patience we asked for an auto to go to Amer. The local auto made it look like a longer journey it actually is because of the laborious way it moved, chuffed and groaned along the route to the fort! After some time we made the auto drop us at the side of the lake. The evening was approaching very slowly; it was an extended session of dusk. The rain had stopped completely by that time but the cloud cover was persistent; and there was a tender breeze blowing which actually took away all the negative effects of the heavy humidity. We were strolling gently along the lake with the gorgeous Amer fort proudly looking at us from the other side. And the best part of all was the solitude we enjoyed. The fort was closed for the day; and we had the whole evening all by ourselves. Debarghya had managed to grab an ice cream from a vendor. And after sometime we reached the area around the main entrance of the fort. And there we came across a few local people engrossed in may be the most important evening leisure time activity of Jaipiur; feeding bread and dough made out of flour to innumerable fishes in the lake. We could not resist ourselves from spending some time throwing out small balls of bread and flour dough to the hungry school of fishes in the lake. The school of fishes was though big enough to graduate itself to a university!

Daylight stayed with us well after 7. And we were not in any hurry to go back; hence we waited for route number 5 to arrive. But luck was not with us. So desperate us, we boarded a local transport which would rank itself a few rungs below the RTV in Delhi. But what mattered most was the fact Debarghya was happy. And we were back to our room a tad bit after 7:30. Dinner of Chicken Biryani, Rara Gosth and Rotis followed. And sleep arrived in our tired eyes very easily.

The good Saturday weather at Jaipur actually was the effect of an incessant torrential downpour at Delhi, immobilising the traffic for almost the whole of the day. This actually prompted us to start a bit earlier than planned. We got ready almost immediately after breakfast and hit the road around 10:30. The drive back was excellent as it was a Sunday and we were always ahead of the normal crowd returning from Jaipur to Delhi. I should mention one more fact here which I should have shared with you earlier. We had packed a USB with almost 6 hours of music and audio. On our trip to Jaipur we had exhausted most of the good songs from the lot; so while coming back we had the luxury of enjoying some Sunday Suspense of Professor Shanku and Feluda. For those who do not know, Sunday suspense was an effort by Radio Mirchi of Kolkata converting quite a huge number of Bengali classics into radio plays. And Feluda and Professor Shanku? They are the immortal creations of Satyajit Ray, the litterateur, which has been the childhood hero of every Bengali kid growing up between the period of 1960 till 1990. So we had a bout of Professor Shanku's "Bagdader Baaksho" (The Box of Baghdad), followed by Feluda's "Gangtokey Gondogol" (Trouble in Gangtok). We though were not able to complete the Feluda story while coming back. Midway we had our lunch; Sagar Ratna arrived too early for a proper lunch time; and so we opted for Nirula's. I had a burger, Debarghya a pizza and Sushree opted for a chicken and rice thaali. We finally stopped for a fuel refill; though it was not an absolute necessity, but just in case; better to be safe than sorry. And in the end we were in our Gurgaon abode before three thirty in the afternoon.

A sad surprise awaited in our house. There was no power. And there has been a transformer malfunctioning on Saturday; sometime after the heavy downpour; and in effect Jalvayu Vihar was powerless for more than 24 hours! So, were supposed to move out again in search of a good nights sleep? Somewhere in Gurgaon itself? We were ready for that as well. Because the Jaipur trip had been so refreshing that physical fatigue was overpowered by our rejuvenated soul. But before making such a drastic decision we agreed to apply the policy of wait and watch for sometime. And sanity prevailed indeed; around 6 in the evening. And we were allowed to have our well earned sleep after our first roadtrip of our life.
But in the end, this is not just a story of our travels to Jaipur, nor is it the memoirs of our first road trip; it is just another travel story. Or is it?

Nainitaal - April 2013

We had booked the tickets in the Ranikhet express without even making up our minds on our final destination. Nainital was the choice made finally more after a game of elimination. And keeping up with our 'better to be safe than sorry' attitude, Alka the Lakeside hotel was also booked. And the week leading to the Nainital weekend was may be one of the most tumultuous ones that we had experienced in Gurgaon over the last couple of years. But at the end of it we were on board Ranikhet express on the 7th of February night. Debarghya did not sleep too well and coupled by the fact that the train reaches Kathgodam on the wee hours, our moods were not that upbeat when we boarded our pre booked car at quarter past five in the next morn. But as we started to move up along the winding roads, so did our spirits! We made a stop-over for an early morning tea and reached Alka at 6:30 am; still pretty dark as the sun was yet to peep in. Sleepy little Debarghya was still a bit confused about what part of the day it actually was; and he was quite hungry as well, and hence he was repeatedly asking for dinner to be served!! But as per social norms, it was an early breakfast which arrived at our room a quarter of an hour later. After that we were at Nainital by all means!

After a bit of rest we booked a car and went on a day trip of Nainital. And the first point we touched was the snow point, and it was an amazing experience. The snow clad peaks were so clear and sparkling that even the local people there, which included our driver and the pesty guides cum 'durbeenwalas' were as much awe struck as we were! The horizon and our view became so wide and deep, that it seemed almost within touching distance. And it needed confirmation from the camera and the zoom multiplier to gauge the real distance. We spent some moments there without really understanding the amount of time that had lapsed. Our next stop was curiously called 'Mango Point'; only because the whole Naini Lake was visible from there, and somehow the shape of the lake from there could be compared to our national fruit! What an improper comparison; a lake which has been named after the eye due to the shape now gets compared to a mango!

After a touching a few more normal(!) tourist spots (regular places on any hill stations) we were dropped off near the rope way. The ride in the rope way was short and sweet but the destination was very disappointing! We sipped some soft drink and quickly came back down to earth!

The next item on our tour was lunch, and we headed for Mirch Masala just by the lake. The view from the place was very good; the food quality though was not in the same category. We walked backed to the main square and ventured into the Tibetan market. And from there we moved on to our next agenda: boat trip in the lake. We arranged a normal boat for one round trip at the lake. The day was on its finishing lap, and the day light has started to wane a bit. And in that dreamy atmosphere the only sound that persistently disturbed total silence was the rhythmic splash of the oar at the still water of the lake. And it was often punctuated by the distant chime of the temple bells, or the unknown squeak of some migratory bird. The three quarter of the hour was over too soon. The last quarter though was spent listening to a well thought out lecture by our oarsman on the vagaries of tourism and its effect on the ecological balance and pollution! And at the end of the ride, we were taken back to earth again, literally. The day had almost ended by that time. The light had decreased; and the chill had increased at the same rate. But we promised ourselves that moment to repeat the boat ride once more during our stay.

Back in the warmth of the hotel room; sipping a cup of warm tea, the spectre of nightfall on the lake as visible from the hotel window was awesome. Dinner followed soon; and it was time to finish off for the day. The first day at Nainitaal was definitely spent well, well beyond expectations.

We had planned the next day to take off from Nainitaal and venture towards Mukhteshwar. To be honest Mukhteshwar was our preferred location, a bit more than Nainitaal, especially after hearing the travel stories of Tulai, my younger brother, who had been to Mukhteshwar just a few months back. But it was a little to quiet a place, and hence not so much suitable to us. But a day trip can always be done. And so we were ready for Mukhteshwar after our breakfast at the hotel.

The drive was peaceful and we reached our first destination after almost an hour’s drive. It was just an inconspicuous location along the state highway, and the name of the place is Gaggar. But what we saw there was more awesome than what we had experienced a day earlier. The day was equally bright and sunny. But it seemed that we had travelled a few kilometres towards the Himalayas. And the mountain peaks seemed more touchable. As usual we gazed on in amazement at the snow peaks for some time before we could continue on with our journey to Mukhteshwar.

We reached Mukhteshwar temple after crossing the veterinary research centre around eleven in the morn. And we bypassed the small group guides, stopped for a small bout of refreshment before starting our ascent towards the temple. I do not find the essence in me for which people generally visit temples in general, but beyond this conflict of beliefs the temple was a beautiful place. Situated at the highest point in that region it not only provides a vantage point to peek at the Dhauladhar peaks, but also it was beautiful in itself. After our temple trip was over when we were looking a bit confused on what to do next, we were almost 'picked up' by our guide, whose name, I am very sorry to say, I do not recall now. But the tour he provided was an awesome one. As per him we had started the trip in the wrong way, as people generally take the tour and then reach the temple. But we didn't mind the deviation. We walked through the dense vegetation, which could pass as a forest on any given day, and one by one visited the suicide point (which was a cliff with a steep drop of around a thousand feet), the 'chauthi ka jaali' (a naturally created hole in a hanging rock with some local myths of providing fertility to women when they pass through the passage on an auspicious day each year), the snow point (needs no definition) and the 'naag fun' (a rock shaped like a snake hood). All the while our guide had been adequately vocal in providing the facts and fictions; and also taking numerous pictures in my camera, which he had almost made his own during the tour. He dropped us near our car after almost an hour and half. And we were driven (!) to our next stop from there.

Our next destination was the Golu Dev Mandir, and the claim to fame for this temple was the countless number of bells that it houses. The temple is of an old king who used to rule over the place some time back; and he was known to be kind and just ruler. So much so, that after his reign was over, the locals had put up a temple in his commemoration. And as per local folklore, anybody who ties a bell in the temple gets his or her wish granted. The effect was definitely visible. There could not a proper comparison on the state of affairs there with respect to the number and the variety of bells there were! And there were a few which were quite enormous, gigantic to be precise. And the story behind them is, once the population of bells grows beyond control, one gigantic one is prepared melting down, may be, a few thousands! We bought ourselves two bells, one hopefully is hanging somewhere in the temple now, and the other hangs in the rear view mirror of our car reminding us the good times we had in Nainitaal, or in a much bigger prospect, in our life till date.

We started our journey back towards Nainitaal, and stopped over for a late a lunch at a roadside diner, the name of which unfortunately is also lost in oblivion now. We were very hungry by now; hence we entrusted the all time favourites of stuffed parathas to arrive first at our table, before we ventured out to try out a few local delicacies. So the Mandve ka Roti and the Bhatt ki Chudkaani arrived! And it was delightful; a pleasant afternoon, a rooftop view of the deciduous vegetation and snow clad mountains as the back drop and a warm delicious lunch made with curious yet moth watering local cuisine.

We asked the driver to drop us at the main market area and as per our request we were also provided with the guidance on the best Mithai (sweet) shop and the most famous sweet of the area. So we walked our way through the meandering crowded lane towards Mamu’s Sweets, the most famous shop of Nainitaal. We tasted the local atmosphere of Naiaitaal and also the local sweet Baalmithai (which is actually a local sweet from Almora), packed a few kilos for home, could not resist the hot jalebis off the frying pan and then decided to return back at the hotel.

The next morning was free to us, no plans and no prior obligations. After breakfast at the hotel we checked out of our room around ten, deposited the bags and baggages at the cloak room and ventured out for a last look at Nainitaal.

As we had promised ourselves earlier we went for our last minute boat ride in the lake. The sunshine and the effect of morning on the lake were equally brilliant. After our trip we ventured back to the local Tibetan market. My shopaholic wife enjoyed herself with lot of bargaining and an aweful lot of window shopping. It well past noon and we were famished after our morning adventure. We went to the Sher-e-Punjab and ordered a bountiful of north indian delicacies. After bellyful lunch, we somehow managed to trudge back to the hotel. The car for dropping us at the station was already there. We started back home. The travel back as always was less exciting and luckily for us less uneventful as well. We reached the station well before time. The chair car coach was though pitiful, yet the overall travel was not so bad. We reached Anand Vihar Terminus on time; and our pick up courtesy Baldevji was there waiting for us. We reached home with plenty to spare, and with a lot of refreshed vigor and energy in our mind and soul. We all had gala time there and I had already started to make plans for a return trip sometime later in our life.

MLG, aka McLeod Ganj.

View from our room.

The trip to Mcleod Ganj was planned more as a tour of desperation since we were not able to travel to Kolkata during the Pujas. Initially my brother, Tulai was to travel to meet our parents in Kolkata in the Puja week. Hence it was no fun for us to stay back in Delhi during the same period. We had only a day's leave at the office on the Dussserra day on Wednesday. And the travel plans were made accordingly around it. We were to start off from Delhi on Nabami night, which happened to be a Tuesday, and will be back on Sunday early morning. Meanwhile, Tulai's plans got cancelled and it was so late that it was not possible to bring our parents to Delhi. And the Durga Puja came just like that.

Shashthi and Saptami were weekends. And we hopped around C. R. Park pandals and the few in Gurgaon. Even on Ashtami we were out in the evening after office till eleven in the night. Hence on Tuesday when we started off for the station, we were a bit taken by surprise.

The ride to the station was not without its share of excitement. It was Nabami, the day before the Dussera, and travelling to the Old Delhi station passing the Ramleela ground became more challenging than we had expected it to be. And there were more than one moment where we felt that we were to miss the train. But it was the nationally famed punctuality of Indian Railways that saved the day for us. The train destined to start at 8:10 actually started at 8:30 pm, and that extra twenty minutes proved really vital for us. The trip had started more excitingly than we had in fact planned and if this was the trailer of things to follow, Mcleod Ganj was going to be a trip to remember.

The train trip to Pathankot was a peaceful night's sleep, sparingly disturbed by the normal murmurs and hubbubs at the intermittent stations. And to our surprise the Jammu Mail reached Pathankot dot on time at 6:30 am. Meanwhile around 5 in the morning Satinder, our driver for pick up from the station had called to inform that he was there already. And upon de-boarding the train we found him near the exit, quite in a cinematic way, holding up a placard which distinctly read “Welcome Mr Debopam Chaudhuri”!

Our ride of 81 kilometers from Pathankot to Mcleod Ganj was relaxing as well. For most parts of the journey, though we were traveling almost in plane land, whilst the steep upward heave happened in the last few kilometers only. The winding roads around the mountain were much steeper than we had normally found in other hill stations like Shimla or Moussourie. But the scenic beauty was no less than any of them. In fact the way the Dhauladhar suddenly sprung up in front of our view with its beautiful snow-capped peaks was really mystical. The mountains seemed much closer to us, and it felt that it may be well with in the reach of our outstretched arm, which actually provided the reasoning behind the steep rise!

We made a stop midway at a place called Hotel Manor for breakfast, a place approved and recommended by Satinder. Generally places like these never hit the mark. But for a change Hotel Manor is a place which I would recommend as an ideal place for stop over for your drive from Pathankot to Dharamsala / Mcleod Ganj. The location for one is very serene, with the windows all looking down on a rivulet rushing down along its rocky route. The food was also fresh and simple. The most memorable part from the place was the hoarding in front of the place which said something like this: “Hotel Manor, Come Hungry, Leave Happy”. It fitted our situation pretty well!

The Balcony and the winding road.

We reached our hotel, Villa Paradiso around 9:30. The hotel is almost a kilometer before the main square, at the intersection of the two roads (which by the way now operate as one way routes, one for going up, and the other for coming down) up to Mcleod Ganj. And our room was on the corner on the first floor. Being on the corner had the advantage with respect to the view. On one side we had the glimpse of the snow peak while the other side looked over the valley side of the Dharamsala town. And the balcony spread across almost three side of the room, with the intersection of the winding road below it. It was really awesome! The welcome drink included a full bottle of red wine, how much we would be able to use it was another question though. And the welcome tray had the usual cookies and chips with a pack of Toblerone in it. Overall the room was cozy and comfortable, and definitely clean and welcoming. But on the downside, it seemed smaller when compared to the money it was charging! But at the end of the day, it was the morning of Bijoya Dashami, or Dussera morning, and it was not the time for all these intricate calculations, and what mattered most was whether we were happy or nor! And happy we definitely were!

Inside Jimmy's Italian Kitchen

We took an hour or so to freshen up, and start our Mcleod Ganj adventure. Our moods were in line with the beaming bright sun bathed morning weather; cheerful and raring to go. Temperatures were well below what we were experiencing at the plains in Delhi Gurgaon region (we needed our light woolens). And the pleasing chill mixed with the balmy sunshine was really a mood refresher. We were out on the streets around eleven, and started our trip up hill along the road on which the Dalai Lama is located. The walk up to the main square past the Dalai Lama temple took fifteen minutes. And we headed straight to the Jimmy’s Italian Kitchen, and had a spread of a Pizza with mostly chicken toppings, a Baked Potato with bacon and Gnocchi. The food was warm, fresh and tasty. The only downside was the gnocchi, which was not as soft and tender to our liking. But the most striking feature of Jimmy’s Italian Kitchen was the décor. All around the walls in the room there were framed print out of posters from famous and may be not so well known movies. It was almost a case of “you name it, and we have it” scenario!

We loitered around in the streets around the main square for a couple of hours (which also was a premier requirement after such a heavy meal); going up and down road that leads to the Bhagsu Falls and also peeping in to the various small curio shops selling small mementos. After that we started our way back to the hotel along the other road which was meant for vehicles coming up to Mcleod Ganj. On our way down, we stopped for refueling at the Chocolate Log. The place is known to be an institution and has been included in the local foodie folk lore with distinction. But the desserts we had were a bit letdown there. The Chocolate cake was pretty disappointing, as it was just average in taste and pretty dry as well. The other chocolate dessert (I do not remember the name) which I had was though much better, without giving the “out of the world” feeling. The only “out of the world” feeling we had there was due to the ambiance of the open air terrace sitting arrangement with the trees providing the all necessary shades.

Our trip back down the steep slope somehow seemed a more tricky and challenging task than climbing up! The slope was really steep and the road in many places seemed to be strategically broken and damaged to make the task of walking down the road look almost like trekking! The road condition definitely need some proper maintenance and some serious repair work at many spots. We agreed on that moment to take the other route while coming down for our next venture, since it had a faintly defined walk way with steps and hand rails across most part of the road, making the walk slightly easier and safer as well.

Ramleela from our hotel window.

We were back at our hotel around four; put our feet up for the next hour or so, then had our afternoon tea and enjoyed the onset of the evening from our room through the balcony door. The play of the light and dark and the colour of dusk on the palette of the sky extended up to the horizon was a mesmerizing affair as darkness gradually sunk in to the earth. And after sometime the night lit up again; this time it was set alight with the firecrackers from the Dussera celebrations in Dharamsala. Far far away, and down below, we even witnessed the Ramleela celebrations some where in Dharamsala. Only the smoke and the light from the crackers were visible from up there, and it all made it an enchanting spectacle.

Dinner was at the restaurant below, and an Indian spread of Roti, Rice, a Daal and a Chicken. The food was pretty average, and again seemed pretty expensive considering the choice and quantity offered. And we were ready to go to sleep. The sleep though was very comfortable.

Next morning, after a very ordinary breakfast at the hotel we had booked Satinder for a day tour around Mcleod Ganj. (though it is possible and also in many places recommended to trek and walk along the tourist spots in Mcleod Ganj to get the proper feel of the place, yet for Debarghya, our dear old car fanatic we needed the car ride). We started with the Bhagsunath temple and the Bhagsu Falls.

The car dropped of us at the car park, from where the temple was just a stone throw’s distance. But there was a pool in front of the temple which caught the eye of Debarghya, combined by the fact that he also eyed a small toy pistol at a shop near the temple entrance and it resulted in the fact that our stay was very short at the temple. Then the walk up to the falls was almost a kilometer and a half from the temple. The walk was fun and enjoying, but we were not able to reach the exact base of the waterfalls, as the final section of the route really needed us to put our trekking shoes on! Yet we had a fun time there, as we found an alternate route to go down to the little stream, and roam around the rocks and enjoy the water. We spent some fun time around the water, and then decided to return from there; and as always the walk back seemed to be much longer.

Dalai Lama temple

Our next destination was the Naddi view point, which rather turned out to be a dampener as the clouds took out the View from the view point. We though had a small tea break; and moved to the next point which was the St John’s Church in the wilderness, which was in fact a typical quaint church available in any Tom, Dick and Harry of a hill station. Next was the Dalai Lama Temple. It is also known as the Tsuglagkhang or Tsuglag Khang. It houses the statues, in sitting postures, of Shakyamuni  (the central image), Avalokiteśvara (the deity of compassion sculpted in silver with eleven faces and thousand arms and eyes -linked to a legend), and Padmasambhava (Guru Rinpoche) - both facing the direction of Tibet. Beyond the facts and fictions of religion and its beliefs, the temple had somehow a very very calming effect on us. The simplistically arranged plan, the paucity of glitter and a plethora of tranquility will in some way make you feel humble and respectful.We collected a few mementos from the souvenir shop inside the temple complex, but skipped the Tibetan Museum there.

Spread at Tibetan Kitchen

What followed was a late lunch at the Tibetan Kitchen and ordered a Chinese and Tibetan platter of Momos as starters and Noodle soup in Tibetan style as the main courses. Food was quite awesome, and we managed to finish off every single bit off the plate! It is to be noted here that, our choices of restaurants were almost preplanned following the extensive studies of the reviews available in multiple traveler sites in the internet.

We were back at the hotel and were declined room service at dinner due a combination of lack of staff and almost full booking; and the Chinese platter we had at the restaurant was not even worth of any mention here. But the night’s sleep was replenishing to the extent to make us ready for another hard day of touring and toiling (!) at Mcleod Ganj.

The next day was planned as free day, a full day without any plans, a full day to roam around as per our will, a full day to explore Mcleod Ganj aimlessly. So we started off from the hotel after the usual bland breakfast towards the main square. After a bit of to and fro we stopped at the Nick's Italian for a brunch. We had a pizza and a spinach and mushroom ravioli; and had a chocolate brownie to finish off. Then we walked around the main square, poking our nose in to almost every alternate shop in the street trying to locate the best fit 'Japayantra'. But our all our attempts failed, as none simultaneously had the 'good looks' and yet fitted into the budget. We ultimately ended up in the souvenir shop owned by the cooperative society right at the corner where the two roads again meet in the square. We tried to get a little something for our near and dear ones; and we actually completed the list after repeated attempts and venture into that shop. We also located Bookworm, the book shop and got a Noddy book for Debarghya. We tried to locate the Norling Guest house, went around the bus stand and taxi stands; had brief stop over where we had a Cola drink manufactured by Catch company in a 200 ml PET bottle, while observing the hustle bustle of a normal afternoon in the town, the mundane routine of local people, the Lamas dressed in their normal attire adding the specific colour in the crowd, the usual group of children returning from school stealing some moments to chat and share an ice cream and simultaneously playing around with a stray puppy in the road.

More than three hours had passed just like that. And we were hungry again. We wanted to have Tibetan and without venturing anywhere else went back to Tibetan Kitchen. This time we had Chicken Drumsticks as starters, followed by a Noodle, a Thupka and a Pork side dish with vegetables as main course. After the sumptuous second lunch session for the day we were too tired to start a new adventure and planned to trudge back to the hotel. After our not so good experience last night combined with the fact we had practically two lunch we planned to skip dinner altogether. On our way back we packed three pastries and a few fruits; as well as a small packet of Chocos for Debarghya's breakfast the next day.

Next day, we had planned to be a day trip to Dharamsala, and Satinder was ready at the doorstep early morning. We started with the tea garden in Dharamsala! Yes, you read it right, a tea garden! We initially had a lot of reservations about it as well. How can a tea garden be present there, but what awaited us was a picturesque greenery in front of a white snow-capped mountains beneath the clear azure blue sky. Really colorful. It was followed by an inconsequential visit to a temple in the hill side, which was made memorable by Debarghya, as he wanted to bring back the idol of tiger near the temple entrance from there!. Next was an Army memorial park in Dharamsala. Debarghya had a field day there, with almost a life size model of a fighter plane and a not so good model of a battleship (not life size of course) to play around. Overall, it was not a “not to be missed” item, in case any of the readers plan to travel to Dharmasala in the future. Our next stop was the HPCA Stadium. It has almost turned into a tourist spot in a way, as one of the gates is open to public for getting inside the stands and to get a feel of the cricket ground from inside. This time around I was having a field day in more ways than one! The snow capped mountains at the back drop makes this stadium, may be, the prettiest cricket stadium of the world.

Deden Tsuglakhang

Our final stop for the day was the Norbulingka Institute at Sidhpur. The Norbulingka Institute was founded in 1988 by the present and the 14th Dalai Lama. The institute is dedicated to the preservation of the Tibetan language and cultural heritage and is named after Norbulingka, the traditional summer residence of the Dalai Lamas, in Lhasa, Tibet. The main building is a replica of the Norbulingka palace in Lhasa, and was really breathtaking. Overall the ambiance inside was so peaceful, that it seemed that we were actually in a different planet. The 'Seat of Happiness Temple' (Deden Tsuglakhang) was equally astounding, with its magnanimity of the 4 metre high Copper statue of Buddha, intricate detailing of the innumerable Buddha murals and frescos of all the Lamas. The Losel doll museum is also not to be missed; it houses an array of diorama displays of traditional Tibetan panorama and lifestyles.

We were dropped off at the Main Square at Mcleodganj in late afternoon, and we were so famished that we rushed in to Jimmy’s Kitchen and ordered a Pizza, Grilled Chicken and Banoffee Pie! And, as before, we finally lumbered back to our hotel room. It was now time to pack our bags and say our final farewell to our charming holiday in Mcleod Ganj. We started off from the hotel around seven aboard our constant travel companion, Satinder’s Indigo; made a stop over at Hotel Manor for a fresh and warm dinner, to reach Pathankot Station a couple of hours before the scheduled departure of Dhauladhar Express. The wait at the station was impatient and irritating, but the journey back in the first class coupe was very peaceful and comforting. We reached Old Delhi station on time next morning, and travelled back to Gurgaon through leisurely Sunday morning traffic pretty smoothly. And Monday? Back to our normal mundane routine, what else?