Every Day Blues

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2008-02-04T09:17:00.000-08:00

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Heads up from Rearset's blog

New Year..Yawn

2008-01-04T04:29:00.000-08:00

Okay so, at the outset, a happy new year to all of you. What did you guys do? Personally, I made a wise choice in staying back home and napping it away (my sister, wiser still, spent it studying). Anyways it was wise because:

1) I saved a lot of money sleeping instead of spending it on a 'bash'.. which is overpriced, overrated, and a general waste of time anyway.
2) Money saved is money earned

Therefore, from 1 and 2, I got paid to sleep on new years eve.

Shopping for a comp?

2007-11-14T08:52:00.000-08:00

I never buy anything without doing a tremendous amount of market research on it. So here I was, shopping for a laptop for my sis - and here's my tips to buying computers in India.

Firstly: Assembled or Branded?

This is a no-brainer. Unless, un' the very less, you really know the assembler, as in beer buddies/best pals.. do not trust any assembler. There are folks who swear by proffesional assemblers and for the most part they appear to have no problems - but they do eventually. I now think, that may be more due to the rampant use of pirated software especially among assembled pc's.. be that as it may, but I don't trust just anyone.

Branded folks..

Ads keep coming in newspapers - Dual Core Pentium for 30,000.. Vista PC for 35,000 etc. Things to note..

Is the monitor included?
If it's a Pentium.. is it a 'Dual Core' or 'Core2Duo'? BIG difference
How much RAM? Minimum 1 GB in today's scenario.
Is the OS included? Which one is it?
Integrated Graphics or Standalone? Not very relevant unless you're a hardcore gamer.. in which case you wouldn't even be reading this. Anyways, Integrated graphics are pretty good these days so not much worries..
Peripherals like speakers..
Which sound card?
160GB Hard Disk is minimum
Bundled software to be noted

Additionally for laptops..

Bluetooth and WiFi are MUST.
What are you paying for? Mobility at the cost of features or vice versa? Do you really need the slim Vaio or a chunky but full featured Toshiba/Lenovo?
Consider the price of a good case as well.

So what did I get?

In the Indian scenario, no matter how you look. The best value for money pc/laptop, as of 14/11/2007 is..

A Dell.

Pricing is spot on. Go to their website and you'll see the professionalism lacking in the sites of Acer, Lenovo, Zenith and even Compaq/HP.
They advertise prices including OS, monitors, and peripherals. And best of all, its all customizable.

There were some battery issues with Dell Laptops so I'm given to understand that has given them some flak. But they have also provided replacements promptly, as I know from a friend of mine who has one.

Here's the config. Remember, its for my sis who's use it for academic purposes (I hope!)

Dell Inspiron 1420 Notebook
Intel Core2Duo T5250
Windows Vista Home Basic
14.1" Widescreen Display
1GB RAM
Intel Integrated GFX X3100
160GB SATA HDD
8x DVD R/W
McAfee Security Center
Bluetooth, WiFi,
Remote Control
Belkin Messenger Bag

Price: Rs.41,500. (tax included)

Oh yeah, and it's pink.

Happy Diwali?

2007-11-14T00:23:00.000-08:00

So? Did you burst firecrackers this Diwali?

Look at this.

Our great apartment-society decided that the basketball court would be the ideal place to let tenants burst their god-forsaken fireworks.
Look at the smoke. Thats the pollution from each of the crackers.

This is the aftermath the next day.

Who gives a shit, huh. These fireworks have riduculous levels or toxins, heavy metals and phosphates; they pollute, deplete the ozone, trigger asthma, have illegal decibel levels.. and yeah, the child labour that goes into it.. our great democracy. Did anybody follow or even know about the 10pm deadline?

Please do not support the bursting of fireworks.

I'll leave you with this wreched sight.

Handy-man

2007-11-13T23:50:00.000-08:00

We are a nation of people lacking common sense.

I think in the good old days, when resources were scarce and customer service was poor, people used to DO things themselves. Like fix engines, clean drains, seal punctures, repair electronic items etc. Now, the Indian 'male' needs a mechanic to replace engine oil. Believe me, there'll come a time when you will call the electrician to replace a light bulb.

There's no such thing as a handyman nowadays. Sure, if you have the engineering student in your house, but nowadays they pass choots to become engineers anyways. What use are they.

So, it is in this scenario, that the somewhat typical Indian 24 yr-old.. (me).. found his fan not working one unusually hot and mosquito infested 4am morning. I got to know later that the 'capacitor', which is a cylindric device, had blown and probably needed to be replaced.

So then, as the prompt Indian male, I called the electrician who gleefully told me, yes indeed, the capacitor has blown, and it'd need to be replaced. Fucker. One of the disadvantages of living in a neighborhood where property prices have tripled in the past three years, is that every fucking bhikari thinks you are a millionaire. I bet he was counting the Gandhi's he'd get. I mumbled something about getting the capacitor myself and told him to come the next day.

Next day. The electrician is 'busy' at some other rich man's house and will take ten more minutes. That was 2 hours ago. As frustrated as I got, I looked around the fans in the other rooms and noted just how this capacitor is fixed. Pretty easy, there's just two wires which need to touch two small pins on top of the fan. I thought I'd give it a shot and guess what - fan's running.

I'm telling you. I am an idiot for not knowing something as simple as this.. The elec will come now asking for some sixty odd bucks and I'll tell him that the fan miraculously started working by itself.

Morals:
1) Replacing a capacitor is easy. DIY.
2) Learn some basic DIY fixes - people are around to fleece you.

Bikes of Lore

2007-11-09T01:31:00.001-08:00

Why can't we have motorcycle ads like these?

It's because we don't ride bikes like these.

Pics from http://www.reproductiondecals.com/vintageads.html

What is a Colt?

2007-11-05T08:43:00.001-08:00

"God created men, but Colt made them equal"

Pic: http://www.gunbroker.com/

Market Musings.. Stop Loss and such..

2007-11-05T07:28:00.000-08:00

Hmm.. y'know the money-making ain't coming to me that easily nowadays.

Firstly 2 stocks that I've put big bucks in aren't showing returns.. firstly IKF. I bought it for their Biodiesel plans but it crashed from my buy price of 7.9 to 4.71. Yups. Big loss. No heart attacks about it or anything but I'm just too reluctant to sell it even now, in spite of it not looking positive.

Praj. Although I'm not in any loss this stock is simply not moving. However one can make a profit if one manages to buy it at 190/- as it has tremendous suport at that level and inevitably rises to 200/- or so the next day.

RIIL. It betrayed me :( Well although I'm not too worried about RIIL.. maybe I should be as it is in Lower Circuit for the past few days.

And that's the lesson for today, boys and girls. Maintain Stop Loss Prices. I can not get myself to do that as I buy with a target price in mind and I'm willing to take risks. But how long can you go on keeping a stock when there are other opportunities flying like gnats to all the frogs around you? Your money is effectively locked.

Get a kick out of Life!

2007-11-02T07:07:00.001-07:00

Is this amazing or what?!

Pic from http://www.reproductiondecals.com/vintageads.html

Lessons I learnt.

2007-11-01T11:35:00.001-07:00

Right. These are the "Lessons I have learnt in the STOCK MARKET".

Patience. If you find yourself hasty in making a decision, it's almost always a bad decision.
It's not the end of the world. Sometimes a stock looks like its running away from you and the only way to catch it is by quoting an exorbitant price. If its out of your hands, leave it. There are plenty of opportunities that are going to come by.
Every stock has its ideal price. Jesus Christ, if only I realized this before! If you select stocks and their Buy Price by this dictum you can't go wrong. I'm not telling you to time the market.
Eg. : There was a crash recently on the P-notes fiasco. Everybody expected a correction, God knows I wanted it. Once it did happen, I guess most people were wondering whether to buy, or to wait.
I feel what one should do is look at your stock and does it fall into your ideal price. Chances are that during a bull run stocks are already overvalued, some to ridiculous levels.. and a crash like this only brings stocks to their "real" price.. i.e. the price they deserve to be at.
Do not put too much money in penny stocks. Even if you really feel you have to, buy in dips (obviously) but also buy in disciplined phases. Do not go with all or half the money you intend to put in it at one go. Penny stocks go up very fast, and naturally they crash down much, much faster.
Past is past. Yeah everybody looks back and wonders.. "Oh, I wish I had gone for IFCI when it was at Rs.10, in the case I would have been a crorepati.." Yeah. Only problem dude, you wouldn't have dreamt of touching a debt-ridden bank at Rs. 10 or less which has been giving negative returns for the past 5 years. Work hard at picking value in the future
Tips. Always, always take it with a pinch of salt. And last but not the least..
Never trust analysts.

Sayonara folks.. Happy trading!!

Trading Update (posted from my sister blog)

2007-11-01T11:14:00.000-07:00

So these are my picks for the coming few months. As usual, disclaimers apply, I'm not a qualified analyst and if you follow these picks you do so at your own risk. Stock investing is high risk and only sometimes a high return strategy.

Wokay, here goes!

IFCI.
Man. This stock had already given me 60% gains like no tomorrow. I sold it at 100 and bought at lower levels. Its basically a loss making 'bank' but it has a LOT of valuable assets and are looking for a buyer for the said assets. It was a bargain when it was priced a few months ago at Rs. 10-15, and many folks queued up; but now its share price is hovering around Rs. 80-90-100 so these buyers are shying away. Anyways, that's the news on IFCI.

Target: 100-125 in 1 month.
Bought at Rs. 90.25. Foolishly bought at such a price. Ideal price is around 75.

PRAJ INDUSTRIES.
My darling stock. I tell you, I would trade a night with any hot chick for 100 shares of Praj. Long story made short, it manufactures Ethanol, and this fits in nicely with the Govt. plans of compulsory blending of petrol with Ethanol.
Current Price: Rs.208.
Buy at 190-200 levels. Blind buy below 190. :)

HINDALCO
Yeah. I've been holding these shares for 1 year. I wasn't able to get rid of it before its Novelis acquisition and so I was stuck and didn't want to book loss. No matter, I got some dividends and now the stock is back to my buying price which was 198. I feel it will rise like TATA STEEL did.

Currently, Hindalco is expensive. But it is on an uptrend, with solid fundamentals and its a good long term pick, albeit looking a bit slow. I wouldn't recommend a buy at these levels, but Rs. 170-177 looks nice.

KS OILS
Yo. These folks are trading at the 70-85 range. Manufacturers of vegetable based oils, show good results. Buy at around 70, sell at 80-85 for short term gains. Medium term target: Rs.100.

PETRONET LNG
Medium term. Bought last week at 78. CMP 82. Target Price 87-91.

IKF
Stock saw good momentum on news of Biodiesel producion. That was when I bought it at Rs. 7.95 but now it has crashed to Rs. 5.5. Very unpredictable stock, I am stuck with it at this level. If you believe in the Biodiesel story, get it at 5.2-5.4. Else chuck it, go for Praj.

TELEDATA INFORMATICS
Hmm. These folks are trading at around 64 levels. I suggest a buy at 60-64. Demerger into3 companies on 15 November. Short-Medium term target Rs.100

GMR INFRA
Buy, Buy, Buy. Buy at 150 levels. Blind Buy below 145. For details read any financial magazine with a story on GMR you'll know what I mean.

TANLA SOLUTIONS
Fantastic Company. Buy at 570-580. Target Rs. 800 in 6 months.

RELIANCE INDUSTRIAL INFRASTRUCTURE LIMITED (RIIL)
Daily hits upper circuit :) I got it at Rs. 2834 each. No target. Just keep for 6 months.

RPL
Oh, RPL. You know, if I wanted to trade in the stock market only for the money, I would have sold all my other stocks and had invested my entire money in RPL. I had bought it at IPO (Rs. 60) Averaged a little later at Rs.75, held for a year and the price is now 204. It's still good picking. My advice: Whenever you have free cash lying around, buy RPL.

Other picks based on Fundamentals but high risk stocks:
IQMS Soft: Bought at 2.95
PROTO INFOSYS: Bought at 3.10

Happy Trading! Repeat: Don't go by what I said.. the above post is for informational purpose only!

Eh heh heh.. I'm back

2007-11-01T10:47:00.000-07:00

Somebody once said, "Son, if it ain't worth saying it out loud, it ain't worth saying".

So I'll still be posting here, chucking out all thoughts from my previous post. I kinda like my new blog too so I'll post some articles there also. You can check it out here. Hehe, it's called 'talk the walk'. I was never good with names, I know.

My loyal fans can still bookmark this page! Thanks a lot, you guys are amazing! :D

The End of a blog

2007-10-02T03:10:00.000-07:00

Yeah well. It's time.

I made the mistake of giving out this blog-id to many people; of course I can't really tell how many of them visited it in the first place :) but having done that, it became unable for me to carry out the true purpose of this blog - which was to simply document happenings in my life in an unbiased, carefree way; and hopefully enhance my writing skills on the way.

But now, having told everyone about it, I found myself being politically correct on many issues, unable to take potshots at daily happenings in the fear of offending someone or the other.

And then I started to lose interest. As Paul Theroux wrote in "My Other Life".. once you stop being honest in your writing, it starts to get boring. Or something like that.

So that's that. Maybe we'll see each other another day. If you enjoyed reading anything I wrote or if you hated it, :) do let me know.
For now, I have to graduate.

Bye!

Dragonfly

2007-09-25T10:30:00.000-07:00

And this, my friends, is why I deserve a Nikon D40.

Taken at Khadakvasla Dam, Pune on my trusty ol' Sony DSC-P8.

I'm currently reading..

2007-09-15T11:46:00.000-07:00

Seven Years in Tibet - Heinrich Harrer.

Choosing books to read is a really tough task for me. I spend several minutes browsing my library shelves trying to recollect familiar names of authors/books but I usually don't go past the ones I've already read. Among my favourte authors, like Forsyth - I have yet to read many of his books including Day of the Jackal - but I've decided to leave that for a very rainy day.

Sometimes I try and consult some of the many 'recommended' lists on the net. I've long given up going by Booker/Pulitzer nominations as I think these judges are have traded excitement for descriptions of exoticism at best.

I came across this tattered paperback, then, at my trusty United Western Library at the Pune Club. It is actually held together at the bind by a nylon sting, which has succeeded in cutting through most of the initial pages.
I may have taken this book only because I remembered there was a movie based on this one, and I remember some glimpses of it and that it was interesting. It sounded like something to do with exile or escape, with a hostile place like Tibet involved..

This is a fantastic read. It lacks the pace of, say, Papillon; but the author does well in mincing descriptions and staying right to the point, whilst juxtaposing some irrelevant and interesting nuggets about life in a strange, isolated land caught in the past.
Oh, and it has an escape story :) That's how it begins.

The Intelligent Investor - Benjamin Graham

Eh.. well I was reading Warren Buffet's biography on Wikipedia when I saw that this was his favorite book. Downloaded it that very instant.

According to him, this is the best book on investing ever written.

Graham's principles have stood correct on many many occasions and appear to be some sort of guidelines to invest wisely. Interestingly, like Buffet, he discounts Technical Analysis (which is somewhat of a disappointment - I was really wanting to learn it).

This is a good book.

Bible on phone

2007-09-01T12:37:00.000-07:00

This phone and its software doesn't cease to amaze me. Just when I started thinking that it wouldn't be possible for me to read e-books on it on account of its small screen size and the lack of a good ebook/pdf reader, here comes the entire King James Version!

Yep. The KJV of both the testaments, and only a little more than 1MB. Fully searchable and sms'able. Download from www.getjar.com
Although, it looks best on the screen of my mom's N72.. =p

I haven't gotten to studying the Bible since my schooldays when I used to religiously (pun intended) read Proverbs and Psalms daily. Hope this gets me started.

Meet my new phone

2007-08-29T09:04:00.000-07:00

Well folks, I lost my old Nokia. I don't exactly remember how I lost it but it had something to do with one of my shirt/pant pockets, a traffic signal, a missed call and my bike. I retained my old number and blocked the sim but couldn't block my phone as I did not have neither the IMEI number nor the original bill. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Bright side: New phone. Meet the Sony Ericsson W300i Walkman Phone. I had got the exact same phone for my sis last month. Its beautiful, by the way. Sounds good too.

The biggest surprise for me though, was its stable and fast OS, and the highly customisable Java MIDP2 software. Lots of applications, and feels much better than the more expensive Symbian phones.

After some heavy bargaining by my friend Sahil (an old hand at such things), we got the phone (inclusive of taxes) for Rs.7000/- I'd say its the best deal today.

I got and recommend the following applications. Download them from 4shared or getjar.com as part of a pack.

Google Mail
Google Maps (data intensive, eats your phone bill)
Opera Mini (kick ass. you MUST have it)
Oxford Dictionary
VLK GPS (its doesn't have GPS but can communicate with a GPS device via Bluetooth)
Compass (Yes, it works!!)

Some good games
NFS Carbon
Splinter Cell: Double Agent
Sudoku
Sonic the Hedgehog - Amazing resemblance to the Sega original

The only reason I even liked Nokia/Symbian phones were for its applications and installable games. So long, Nokia.

Um yeah, one last thing. I totally love this phone.

Its over, thank God

2007-08-29T09:00:00.000-07:00

Phew! Chronicling this trek has been a royal pain in the neck. I promise to never venture into writing such lengthy blog posts again. I just hope the occasional photos made it a worthwhile reading experience. I always remember fondly the books I used to read which had illustrations, which made them all the more pleasurable..

Okay, so that's that. Trek's over. I won't be writing about Rohtang now anyways - though in some ways it was a semi life-altering experience and even though Manali is a splendid place - I'll write about it another day.

Back to Aut.

2007-08-28T18:44:00.000-07:00

We woke up comfortably and four of us took a walk to an adjoining hill. We talked for a while, and I tried in vain to take some pictures of birds. I decided to get a new camera.

Another dog at the camp

After breakfast we started off on our way. Chetan went ahead with Dimple in a bus. We started off together. My seat was fixed and my hand was feeling painless too.

This stretch had it's shares of highs and lows. There were some uphill climbs and several downhill slopes but could be managed without stopping considerably. I took off, hungry for some 16th gear riding and had a lovely time. I caught up with Uncle who had left much before us and then decided to hang out with him. We were together till the end of the ride.

We came to the 3km tunnel and again, it was a spectacular experience. A long tunnel with minimal lighting and oncoming traffic - I think it was a very good way to end the trek.

Uncle and I at the tunnel

I fastened my torch on my helmet for the tunnel stretch

We were welcomed by the cook cum cycle mechanic.I tried my final few tries at a wheelie and I'd like to state that I am now able to do it on cycle!

I loved this Fox

That done, and a victory drink later, our bikes were back to the garage to be locked up. We freshened up and chilled out. Our cook made an excellent lunch; sort of the congratulate us, I guess.

By evening there was some talk of riots happening somewhere. These were some folks from Rajasthan who were striking/rioting against the Govt., claiming minority status for their community. Most trains were cancelled, and Uncle, Manish, Chetan and Ved were in a dilemma. Sumedh and I had some plans to go over to Manali and check out Rohtang Pass.

Finally they got plane tickets for the 5th - three days from that day. Which meant they could come along for the Manali trip!! I was thrilled.. there was a lot more to come!
Harry couldn't make it though - he had some other prior commitments.

Well thats how it ends. Summer of 2007 in the Himalayas. Cycling upto 12,000 ft., 52 kilometers, 4 days. A couple of awesome people, excellent bikes and relaxed camp leaders. Fantastic.

Day 9. Aut to Manali.

We packed our bags and another well prepared breakfast and got ourselves ready. We had a certificate distributing ceremony..

L to R: Dimple, Uncle handing me the certificate, Helper at the Camp, Myself, and our friendly cook/cycle repairer

And we got on the next bus to Manali. We were to indulge in white water rafting and rent some bikes the next day to Rohtang Pass.

We left Aut. We had been on an expedition. It was a success.

Jalori

2007-08-28T04:50:00.000-07:00

I was a little disappointed about the fact that there was no snow in this place. Yes, it was too much to expect at this altitude and that season..

Breakfast of thick aloo paranthas. The first on this trek. I had several huge ones :D

On the way to the lake

A house wedged inside a rock

All this time I was out of touch with home; my phone service Hutch having exhausted all my balance mysteriously. I later learnt that roaming wasn't free.

We took a hike to a lake, which was a landmark. We saw large flocks of sheep on the way - and it was a pretty long hike.

Jalori Lake

The lake was calm - water looked mucky. There were some rocky ledges where we made our way to..

There was a temple too, adjoining the lake. Some rituals were going on and I remembered Tintin in Tibet where the Captain was supposed to go around a religious structure only from the left - else it would bring bad luck. Anyhoo, touristy glances later we made our way back.

The trek called for us to spend a day at the summit - but the fellows from Vishakapatnam wanted to go back early so that they could accommodate a trip to some hot springs at Manikaran. This led to considerable discontent from Dimple and Uncle. We decided to leave that day anyway.

A lunch later, we assembled for the usual group photo at the summit.

Our group in front of the temple at Jalori.

And we left for Banjar.

There was nothing much we did at Jalori, I suppose. This whole trip was about making a journey by cycle, tackling altitude, steep roads, exhaustion, drastic climate changes, while carrying your own luggage; but at the same time, having a magnificent cycle and breathtaking scenery to behold. I think it was well worth it.

I think there were some warnings by Dimple to take it easy, for now all we had to do was go downhill. I had been waiting for this for a very long time. Every step we took to come this way would now pay off.
I think we even may have decided to go in a group.. or something..

We flagged off. Immidiately I noticed my rear brakes were not working. Dimple had failed to change the brake pads.
There was not much avenues to get irritated. I was going so fast! Yes, I could slow down with the front brakes somewhat.. but I had never gone so fast on a cycle before. The handlebars were rattling over the poorer stretches. We were eating up miles that we used to cover in hours in just a few minutes! It was thrilling. And it was deadly. This was a valley after all, and there were the occasional cars and buses.

I had very poor gloves on. I could feel my palms burning whenever I reached for the brakes. We passed Sojha in a flash. By then I was on my own, more or less, having overtaken most of the guys.

Manish came by from behind and zoomed past me.

He was quite experienced and I could only look on in awe as he maneuvered deftly around corners, skidding just enough to make a 'power slide' and escape the corner. He would jump over speed breakers and simply be too fast on stretches. I somehow tried to catch up.. in vain of course. As such I didn't have the brakes either; so I tried to keep him in crosshairs at least.

But I had to stop. My palms were burning. The handlebar vibrated quite a bit - and led to a lot of friction between the grip and my palms. Further, I was over-using my front brake because of which my right hand was considerably strained. I stopped on the side to examine the damage - and I saw a bit of skin had peeled off from my palm. I kept staring at it and saw, to my horror blood collecting to form a well demarcated hematoma.

Ugh! The hematoma. Really restricted my downhill speeds :(

Shit. I wasn't too bothered by that red boil on my hand - I was just worried that I wouldn't be able to continue such high speed antics without compromising the bursting of this God forsaken boil. I wrapped my hand with my bandana and put the useless glove over it - it still gave me an uncomfortable feeling whenever I gripped the handlebar. I put a sock over the whole glove and then I felt remarkably cushioned. I did something similat with the other hand and pushed off.

To my surprise, I reached Jibhi in less than an hour, in spite of the stops. I saw some bikes parked over at Auny's dabha and stopped over. After eliciting deep sighs over the ghastly boil I had, we settled down and refilled ourselves. Manish gave me some bandages while Harsimran generously donated his gloves, which were well padded. He was happy to take mine. It was a damn nice gesture, and the new gloves immediately felt better. Harry took off along with Uncle.

Manish and Sumedh had tied their cameras on their chest with an ingenious use of ropes and knots. The cameras were quite secure, and they managed to take some excellent high speed downhill videos.

Manish and I took off together. We were joined by Chetan and Ved when we stopped for a photo op.

Yeppo, that be me

Apparantly Sumedh had his usual bike jinx again and this time he was unable to pedal at all. The final straw, I guess. He could only roll downhill by gravity. We figured he'll take some time, and even ventured to go on a detour to check out some sights while he would catch up - but chucked the idea after a few pedals as there was uphill climbing involved! We went back on our route.

By this time I noticed that my seat again started to tilt.. and this time it was actually at an acute angle whenever I sat on it. I had to get off, and readjust the seat and pedal for about 30 seconds and then again adjust the seat. I didn't sit on it much, and stood on the pedals for the better part of the time. Manish and I went far ahead of Ved and Chetan, and we waited for them at Banjar Bus Stop, a few kilometeres away from our Banjar camp. We were to rendezvous with Dimple here.

Ved came by. Chetan had an accident.

On a turn, he collided against a Jeep. He was all right - just a little shaken up. Dimple appeared - and in his swearing element he took Chetan to a hospital for a checkup.
His bike was ruined, and he did not ride for the rest of the trip.

Manish and I decided to wait for Sumedh who we thought wouldbe behind us - and hour or so later we called some folks at the Banjar camp and they said he was one of the first to reach! Puzzled as to how he could have overtaken us without us noticing - he may have bypassed us while we went on our detour. We tried to make a quick break for the camp.

We weren't so quick for two reasons. Number 1..

I think - photos like this deserve awards

And Number 2 : It was impossible for me to ride by now. There were some flat stretches and I couldn't just keep standing on the pedals, as my seat was so loose it would tilt at the slightest force. We did make it of course.

At Banjar there was a serious discord among some of the members. One group wanted to leave for Manikaran that day itself, and Dimple would have none of it. A compromise was reached : They would leave early next morning. I had a feeling they would shove their bikes on to a Jeep and ride all the way back.

Banjar in the evening

We took a walk around the town, Dimple as the tour guide - it was dark and we chit-chatted outside a kirana shop. Chetan had a soft spot for dogs. He befriended this one, and I suspect he had serious thoughts of how to carry him home.

Myself, with the aforementioned canine

Same old dinner back at the camp. There was custard for dessert and I remember having only that.

Day 7. Sojha and Jalori, albeit a few hiccups..

2007-08-17T03:19:00.000-07:00

Phew! I thought I'd just document the trek for kicks but its taking too long!

Day 7. To Sojha and Jalori.

It was a good night's sleep. I woke up later than most of the guys. I even managed to warm up and stretch at a scenic bridge nearby.

Breakfast was a much welcome bread with omelettes and butter/jam. I love it every time. Of course, thanks to the vegetarian stand of two members I was able to have an eggstra.

I thought I'd go and have a hot bath at the previously discovered toilet.. imagin e my suprise when I saw aunty in there washing her clothes, staring at me incredulously. Jeezus, this was her bathroom! After mumbling some oh's and 'i thought's' went off into the real toilet, which was a grim reminder of another bathless day.

As we took our bikes out I noticed a tilt in my seat. There was a bolt missing from one side. Dimple couldn't repair it - he told me to bear with it till the summit.

We took off together this time. Before leaving, I took one last look at the sign outside aunty's dabha. Chingri lodge. To my surprise I saw a picture of a chillum at the edge of the sign. Aha!

I thought this time, we'd go in a group.. yeah, that was true for the first kilometer. Manish and Harry overtook us within a few minutes. Ved too pushed off with his cycle. Understandably, the other group started walking with their bikes almost immidiately. What a waste.

Sumedh realised his bike was running only on second gear. It couldn't go to first. That was the last straw. We noticed one of those Andhra fellows who had 'taken' his Firefox walking leisurely with his cycle. Immidiately we got him to take the Thunder instead as he wasn't riding anyway, and buzzed off.

This was the toughest climb. It was impossible to pedal for 4-5 steps even. Amidst the frequent breaks, the most torturous parts were the turns. I remember some turns where I had to stop every pedalling step.

'Breather'
Picture by Sumedh

As we were lumbering forward I realized that the breaks were inevitable. And clearly the breaks were not providing enough time for our muscles to rest between pedaling surges. All this led to a disorganized mess, and more and more Lactic Acid accumulating in out muscles.
I thus formulated a strategy. We would pedal for a while continu ously.. and then stop for a few paces and then start again, repeating the 'cycle'. And to ensure just enough Oxygen goes in as required, I decided to take our number of breaths as a benchmark.

Thus we would pedal for 20 breaths - and rest for 10 - and pedal again for 20 breaths. This would lead to a steady and much faster progress.
And it did!

We started picking up pace..

By then, it was 1:00pm. And then it started to rain.

We luckily found ourselves in the surroundings of a cafe-lodge where we quickly deposited ourselves. After parking the bikes inside, we rested our sorry asses inside the warm inn. It was made of wood.. so were most of the houses here, and I gather this must be the cheapest place for wood in the country.

Anyways. We ordered hot Maggi noodles. My shirt was drenched and I was feeling cold under my wind-cheater. As unbearable as it was I changed it - but quickly realised that all my T-shirts were cotton - and would stay drenched for a long time.
Our Andhra friend, with his new Thunder joined us.

Chetan appeared out of the blue.

He had gone much ahead - but came back looking for us. Apparently it was raining heavily higher up.

At the Cafe

We enjoyed the Maggi, (which I suspect was Top Ramen, but that's even better) and were plesantly surprised to find the bill less than Rs.20/- per person. We bonded pretty well with the man from Andhra and I wondered where this animosity had come about earlier. We had tea; I remembered Naveen telling me once that it is a custom in Andhra to have tea after meals. Its a good custom. But the tea was just okay.

It stopped raining and we lumbered ahead, but with a renewed vigour. We had only a few hours left though - for it was about 2pm. One should reach by 4, and by 6 it gets too dark to travel.

We saw Uncle speeding downhill and he stopped in front of us. He was visibly shaken up and fatigue was written all over his face. Apparently some of them couldn't take it any more and decided to take a Jeep for the rest of the journey. Pretty soon the other Andhra guys followed and they were more than happy to take a ride on the next transport vehicle that came up. Expected.

A Jeep came by with space for the fatigued lot and their bikes. Sumedh, by now frustrated with his luck with cycles, took the best off their lot; which was Uncle's Firefox. He was just happy to get out of there!

Miniature berries - they tasted exactly like strawberries

Off they went, and off we went. A 500m climb which felt like an eternity later, we spotted Ved. His cycle stalled.

There was a problem with the chain. It was stuck at the dérailleurs and refused to budge. Using our engineering skills, we took apart the wheel..

..fiddled with the chain..

..and came up with this.

Ok, so we couldn't fix it. But at least we'd start moving. We asked two cars that were passing by to send the message that we'd be late.

By now it was about 4:45. It was too late to even reach Jalori, as it was rapidly getting dark. We trudged along, and Dimple appeared on a Jeep.

He was furious. One look at Ved's bike and he was now a man possessed. Yelling and screaming he started piling up the bikes on the Jeep. We pleaded with him to at least let us go ahead by bike. This was our goal after all, we couldn't chicken out by taking a Jeep. A lot of negotiating later he let us climb giving us a deadline of one hour. He took our bags though. Ved tried to remove his cycle saying he wanted to drag it to the top for honor's sake - Dimple would have none of THAT. That said, he took off.

1 hour. We had 3 kilometres left to cycle uphill. We were off.

There's nothing much to say about the journey ahead. We were pushing ourselves to the max. It was getting dark, and all that was on our heads were the milestones every 500 meters and the ticking clock. I was getting exhausted. Water was also out. It was getting cold.

Sumedh was quick. Both Chetan and I met up with him at a stream where we had our final pit stop. We refilled our water bottles and opened a pack of glucose biscuits. I gobbled them and drank about 600ml of ice cold water at one go. We waited for a while.

The stream was below this road. Chetan here. Picture by Sumedh. They were waiting for me.

Big mistake.

I started feeling cold. Then chills. And then I started shivering. The temperature didn't drop or anything. I was getting hypothermic. It was the water.
It was a shock, you know - to feel like that on top of the exhaustion. I took extra jackets from Chetan and Sumedh and started pedalling away. I thought maybe I could warm up my muscles enough for this phase to pass by. It worked, I suppose. Chetan and Sumedh went up ahead. I took more frequent breaks, but this time to take pictures. And what beautiful pictures!

I think I fell in love with my Cybershot P8 all over again after the above pics

I didn't see them till the end of the climb. It was just me, the bike and about 500meters of steep incline. The distance didn't matter any more. At least no one will come and pick me up in a Jeep.

A tremendous incline. Took my breath away just by looking at it. But it was the last..

A milestone appeared : Jalori - 0. I was there.

Dimple was around. He was smiling. "Phat gayee?" was his first reaction. I said Yeah. The seat was killing my rear, as it was tilted. I asked him to fix it the earliest. Anyways I had to take my bike to a house. I could hardly lift it over a couple of stairs - Chetan was waiting for me.. he took the following picture..

Exhausted!

I had 2 jackets on, I was drenched from inside, it was getting pretty cold. I wasn't shivering any more, and my legs felt like they would give way. It got really dark really fast. It was done.

We took this photo. I take pride in the fact that we were the only ones to pedal every 'step' and corner of the way.

"Agni Lomdi"

As I went inside the early birds who had arrived first (by Jeep, but of course) were nicely tucked in. They were visibly exhausted as well. I changed, but started feeling cold again. Most of my clothes were damp. I found a good one somewhere, hung other clothes to dry and took a walk.

This was a nice place. There was a temple adjoining the room we were staying in. A wide, green meadow leading to a valley, still having some cows grazing. It was a very small town with few shops but no visible houses. We had dinner in the dark. Water was scarce so we were supposed to be frugal. I remembered the stream 500m away. Anyways we had a reasonably good dinner - bland as it was it was compensated by raw onions and tomatoes in plenty. "Eat the onions" Dimple said. "They'll keep you warm".
I sensed a discontent from him regarding the older group. Well it didn't take an idiot to figure that out, he was verbally abusing them every second they were not present.

We went off to our room to sleep, where we were offered Bournvita. :D the obsequious Bournvita. I was just irritated about cleaning the cup I drank it from. We drifted away pretty easily.

Day 6. Banjar to Jibhi (Aunty da Dabha)

2007-08-12T08:25:00.001-07:00

I knew this trek was going be difficult, but I had this feeling at the back of my head that maybe, in order to accommodate people of all age groups and fitness levels, this trek might lack a certain challenge. After all we were not g
oing off-road on this trek as such, and neither were we doing something radical like trudging through snow.

But the thing is, that this trek could be made as challenging as you want it to be. It is up to you, and not to the route you are in. That was what I started realizing on this day, and I shall explain it a little better.

Day 6. The Road to Aunty da Dabha.

Morning began like all mornings. We had an edible breakfast and started packing our things. I was quite possessive of the bike I was about to ride. In fact I had 'marked' it with a micropore to distinguish it from the others. But some of us hadn't.

The Vishakapatnam group announced that they would leave before the rest of us youngsters as they would be riding slower than us 'speed freaks'. Uncle decided to go with them.

Already there was a 'group' mentality that was doing the rounds. The Vishakapatnam fellows kept to themselves, and although I think the rest of us were equally free with everybody on this trip, we could not blend with everyone as it is expected. Uncle kept flitting between camps but I think he was more worried about his own health than this politics nonsense.

As they were leaving, they asked us for one of our Firefoxes. I don't think anyone of us were in such a generous mood that morning, but Chetan to my immense surprise promised them his cycle for the next day after today's ride. Okays exchanged, we went on with our work.

We were supposed to take 'packed lunch' i.e. fill up our tiffin boxes for lunch that day. One look at the bhaji, which looked the same as the days before turned me off. I decided to fill my tiffing with only rotis, which were by itself quite tasty. Whenever others asked me why the hell I wasn't taking any vegetable along with it, I used to mumble someone else is carrying that for me.

As we went up to our bikes, Sumedh couldn't find his Fox. There was instead a Thunder next to a tree. They had taken his bike.

The climb was at once steeper than any of yesterday's climbs. I had some energy to push myself in the first hundred or so metres uphill.. but that was it. It was a climb all right. After a while I noticed one of my chappals that I attach to the rucksack had fallen off so I had to go back and come up again. Very irritating.

On the way Uncle we spied uncle at a juice shop and he invited us for fruit juice. We had apple and litchi juice off a bottle - pretty good, but sugary. Uncle had several litchi drinks - apparently he adored the stuff. Pit stop over, off we went.

We came across a town, where Sumedh was sitting on the ground with his bike against a house. Our first problem. The wheel of his bike had an "out" i.e. it was aligned at an angle. You see, this cycle was ridden by the other group the day before, and it even encountered a puncture. The alignment was skewed after the puncture repair. We dragged the bike with the stuck rear wheel searching for a mechanic on the road. We found one eventually. Manish was also around - his chain had come off the rear sprocket. He had got the mechanic to oil his chain but apparently too much was used.

Sumedh fiddles with his bike while Uncle loses his temper. God knows why.

All this took about half an hour. It was, I suppose a somewhat frustrating time but all the while, one is having a view overlooking a valley lush with pine trees on one side, and hills on the other. It is hard to lost your temper at a place like this.

As we took off, Manish sped away. From all of us, Manish and Harry were the ones most adept at cycling. He was out of sight after a while. Sumedh, Chetan and I slowly chugged along; but taking too many breaks.

But I was on a Firefox.

The bike was every bit better than the Thunder. It was much heavier too, and it was evident on the uphill. But the ride was smoother, the gears changed even more effortlessly. The grip-shifts felt as if it was forged for the racetrack - such is the quality. The braking is spot on. I just found the seat - softer than the Thunder as it was - a little uncomfortable.

Traversing
Picture by Sumedh

We took too many breaks in the middle of our climb. We met this old man who habitually fed birds who would sit on his hat to eat his tidbits.

I started having the rotis, to the amused look of me friends. Hey, its carbs. And the veggies taste awful. They are also the gas generating kind.

I think I used to pedal every 15 seconds or so and then stop for 15-30 seconds. It was impossible for my legs to keep up the pace. My thighs groaned with every step. But we pedaled all the way.

Even at this pace I expected to catch up with the Vishakapatnam fellows - but usually they ended up in sighting distance only to vanish for some time. They were walking all the way, you see. While climbing uphill one can effortlessly cover ground by simply walking with the cycle instead of riding it. I noticed that they did not climb a single inch by riding their bikes.
Chetan, Sumedh and I decided we would not follow such tactics at any cost - the true test of endurance - or the challenge I was referring to earlier would be: to cross the pass solely by pedaling and by no other way. It was a pact!

Look closely beyond me (the first cyclist). Two of the Vishakapatnam fellows taking a 'short cut' by dragging their beautiful bikes over rocks. Pathetic.
Picture by Sumedh

An anecdote before we end our tiring bike journey. Sumedh and I caught up with the guy who had mooched the Fox on the previous day. We told him about todays incident but he just mumbled something and sped off. I managed to say to my compatriot, a la The Fast and the Furious : "Smoke Him". Which, by Jove, we did.

Local kids were always only too happy to see us
Picture by Sumedh

The three of us somehow made it to Jibhi village, after which there was a further steep incline of about 500 metres to reach Aunty da Dabha. We were by now, reflexively 'traversing' - a term Harry told me the next day for what we were doing. By now my back had gotten used to the rucksack which was torturous the day before - but my bum was paining even more.

Taken by Sumedh

Aunty da Dabha.
The three of us were the last to reach the Dabha. It had some other name - Chingri-La or something. I was well aware of the warnings about the food at this place, so I tread warily. After parking our cycles at a makeshift garage, I spied Manish and Harry supervising the gardener to fill water at a tank (supposed swimming pool). It rained soon after anyway, so they couldn't get to swim. Poor gardener.

Aunty had a biggish garden with many botanical species, but I distinctly remember huge roses. I don't take pictures of flowers or plants in general for it is a tremendously boring exercise. One does not remember pictures of flowers. Unless it is a collective picture, like that of a meadow with tiny yellow flowers. Or that Van Gogh painting.

The only 'chick' we saw on this trek. At Aunty da Dabha. Isn't she hot?
Picture by Sumedh

Anyway, we were led to unwind in a room. Here too, we berthed in a room, not a tent. In fact, Banjar was the only stop where we tented. Thank God.
This was a wooden house, well insulated and quite dry. This was an inn of some sort, apparantly, and YHAI hastily commissioned Aunty to house us campers every few days.
Aunt herself was a single woman who ascended (one does not descent upon the Himalaya, does one?) from Punjab or Delhi - with a truckload of cash to set up this nice little inn primarily catering to foreigners.

Our camp leader by now was a sporting young chap called 'Dimple'. He looked anything unlike a Dimple would look like, though. A mustached slender fellow who was never seen in anything other than tracksuits, and only had obscenities to speak of the camp leader at the base camp. Apparently he did not orient or instruct us, or any other participant in general. I had trouble speaking to him in Hindi. Its not like I can't speak the language - I couldn't understand his Punjabi dialect so whenever I was with him I pretended to laugh at what he was saying - usually it was some funny stuff anyway. Maybe I was laughing at myself, I dunno. Who cares.

Chetan and Ved shared the same sentiments as I as far as food was concerned. Th three of us were the only hard core non vegetarians on this trip. We decided to sneak away for some meats from the locals.

Other than some suspicious looking joints we didn't come across anything. We went inside what was called a bakery with a Sardarji hanging around - he led us to a house a few paces away. It was raining. We came to some sort of a restaurant - a room with few benches and ordered the only non veg items he had at the moment - Scrambled eggs.
We asked him for some meat. Sheep, Chetan insisted. Apparently he had seen a flock a while ago and that caught his eye/hypothalamus. Sardarji offered to prepare it for us the next day - 1 kg for hundred bucks.
A steal! 1kg curried mutton - sheep meat, alas, but hey! It was tempting. We accepted.
The cook, however, who was his son had a discussion and he being a more sensible fellow I think, hiked the price to Rs. 150. Still somewhat of a steal considering the circumstances. Unable to bargain and somewhat satiated by the eggs, we told them we'll come by later in the evening and let them know. We didn't.

Dimple took us for a walk through the village. There were some pretty sights - water pools, wheat fields, apple orchards and wooden houses. I managed to mingle with some locals. Very friendly fellows, invited me to their house and all. This is India, baby. And this is Himachal.

Me, with Fields of Gold (Sorry, couldn't resist)

That's how small apples look on trees

Aunty just kept yelling at her cooks/servants but she was nice to us. I couldn't get myself to trust her- there was something fishy about this whole place. It lent a certain vibe. I was to find out the next day.Aunty with Dimple (tracksuit). Sorry, only pic of Aunty. Ved also seen, extreme left espying a local map.

The guys outside her inn.

Dinner was a disaster. Most of the guys found it okay, good even. Either something was wrong with my sense of taste or others were adapting.

Dinner: Rotis, Rice, Assorted vegetable Casserole (Simla Mirchi, potatoes, tomatoes - quite spiceless and tasteless), a 'kadi' (yellow gravy - I am never a fan of that.. again tasteless), some pickles (I've given up on pickle in this area). Dessert was good. I had dessert.

The toilet was amazing. There was a running hot and cold water, a water heater, western commode with toilet paper all ready - even a light bulb and a mirror. I took a mental note to have a hot bath the next day.
The others looked at me puzzled as they had not noticed the water heater. I thought maybe I have superior powers of observation, and went to sleep content.

We were given sleeping bags this time. Sumedh said something about these bags being designed to be slept in naked - something to do about body heat and better surface area exposure to heat - a disturbing thought as these bags are handed over from one camp to the other. Oh but we are modest Indians. Noone will have slept naked in these bags.

The usual midnight Bournvita and lack of camp fire later, we easily drifted to sleep.

Day 5. On to Banjar.

2007-08-11T02:15:00.000-07:00

The bags were packed. Everyone leisurely arranged their rucksacks and had a quick breakfast. We were supposed to select our safety gear and everyone obviously clamored to get the best stuff. I had other things on my mind.

It seemed that the Firefoxes were already claimed by certain people. Uncle got one - presumably because of his age, so did expert cyclists Harry and Manish. The last Fox was abruptly mooched by one of the men from Vishakapatnam and that left the rest of us with Thunder cycles. All is not lost, as there are four more waiting for the first four to reach the camp.

A photo-op and a send-off later, we were good to go. Chetan and I exchanged glances - it was time to fly. We had to reach first if we wanted the bikes. It was a race - with a prize!

Chetan sped away after the flag off. After a while, I too picked up the pace. Rear cog third to fourth. Gears clanging every few seconds. Shifting the front cog to second. Then third. Finally going on to effective gear number 18. You feel like you are pedaling against a block of iron. But the bike flies. Full power, till it was only the both of us at the lead.

We approached the first major 'obstacle', which was the 3 km tunnel. Straight, level road, but very few lights. It was impossible to even get accustomed to the darkness for every now and then a vehicle would come from the front blinding us with high beam. Still, we carried onshifting lanes from the left to middle occasionally to receive maximum light. Harry joined us quite effortlessly and advised us to slow down. But we were on a mission.

Tunnel over, a bridge crossing later we were on the route. This was the first leg of the climb. There were some uphill climbs, interspersed with some downhill slopes and level terrain. The road was asphalt, with potholes only on some occasions. It was a little hot, but probably a pleasant ride - if one were to take it easy.

As expected Chetan and I tired ourselves pretty soon. But we were so far ahead that a few pitstops wouldn't make much of a difference. Harry was cool as ever - he told us that he was a national level cyclist. He tried to get us to cycle in single file alternating with lead positions like they do in Tour de France - but it didn't really work out.

A word on the cycles. These bikes have been used and abused on this trek. Ours was the last batch so we were left with cycles pushed to the limit.
The Hero Thunder is a light mountain bike. Brakes are average, gears are responsive and for the better part, error free. The front fork does very little to absorb shocks - and your hands rattle so much on downhill speed runs that you brake just to stop your hands from shaking.
Its seat is uncomfortable but bearable. And it has a rear pannier which we used to hold our bags on uphill climbs.

Even though this stretch was touted as the easiest of the climbs on this trip, it seemed like it would never end. I couldn't make sense of any of the milestones and we seemed to be going at a measly pace. We just kept having glucose biscuits and boiled sweets to keep us going.. but the heat and the exertion surge we had earlier were taking its toll.

Finally we reached a bridge; and lo and behold - Banjar Camp up ahead. But somewhat more importantly - Four Firefoxes were parked outside the camp.

Chetan and I went up to the members of the previous batch who were from Rajasthan. They were nice folks, and gave us their cycles. The job was done.

About 20 minutes later the others started appearing. By that time I knew that there was no way I could reproduce the kind of energy I had for this stretch for the coming two days - and I was right.

On exploring a little, we found a familiar looking plant. (See pic)

We later went to the river, and the water was noticeably clearer than at the base camp. You could feel the freshness of the place - it was invigorating. We actually immersered our heads in the water - just for kicks of course - but that was a mistake as the water was freezing and it was still quite hot outside.

We had lunch. I don't remember what it was but by then I decided I couldn't take this much longer. I think it was cauliflower and potato bhaji with rotis and rice. And the obsequious pickle made out of all known vegetables in Himachal. Followed by sheera for dessert. I think I just had rotis and sheera.

It started to rain and I tucked myself under the blankets. I was tired and a little feverish. It was the freezing river water. I slept like a log.

Day 4, Aut

2007-08-10T11:21:00.000-07:00

Well fellows, firstly sorry for the delay. For a while my Internet account got over, I moved to a new house (which rocks, but not along the same lines as my old one ;but more of that nostalgia later), and the posts were taking incredibly long to complete.
Back to the travelogue.

Day 4. Aut.

We woke up to a morning tea, which is staple on all YHAI trips, and it's always damn good, I might add. I don't even get morning tea delivered to my room at home(forget bedside) but ironically this was a feature on this trek. I didn't realize it then.. maybe I was too sleepy every morning; but it was a treat.

Breakfast was a nice couple of butter and jam sandwiches, and an egg each. Thankfully there were two vegetarians in our group due to which I was able to have an eggstra egg.

We were then led to the 'garage' which housed our bikes; and everyone quickly got their hands on the best cycles. I too got hold of one well in advance - but what the hell did I know about cycles, and how to judge them.

Today was orientation cum acclimatisation, where we were meant to take our bikes for a spin, get the hang of gears and terrain, or something like that. Our instructor said something about restricting ourselves to 4-5 kilometers. Well.

We took off the fastest our legs could carry us.. Manish and Sumedh sped away. I just couldn't keep up - I attributed that to my cycle or wrong gear changes, but we all know what the truth is. Anyway, we met up at a spot near the river, where after a bit of offroading we sat down to take some snaps.

On the way back my cycle chain snapped. There was already a graoning noise due to the wheel brushing against the mudguard, now this. I somehow rolled on the bike till the base camp where i took on another Thunder. Some gear problems, and wheel malalignment but I didn't give a damn.

We went back to the other side of the river where we had gone yesterday. Saw some fascinating butterflies - beautiful greenish bluish aquamarinish (i'll stop now) colour. Just couldn't get a good photo.

We came back by 12:30, and got an earful from the administrator. There was still some time for lunch, and the guys and I decided to go for a swim in the waters, when Sumedh politely stated something about "sewage of manali" and "these waters" in the same sentence. I then decided to sun-bathe instead.

The guys, barring me and Sumedh jumped into the water. We were joined by Harsimran, who had just come then. Harry knew Sumedh from a trekking group they both belonged to, and apparently that was a coincidence.

There was a lot of water splashing around, while I lay on the pebbles which were quite warm from the heat of the day. The water was chilly, almost freezing and I was sure someone whould get a sunstroke right then and there. I lay there looking at the river, a hill with pine trees on the other side, a small beach bound by rocks to my left, and big imposing rocks to my far right. The skies were slowly acquiring clouds that were just begenning to acquire a shade..
That was when I saw the bird.

We saw something resembling an eagle. Nonsense, we figured. Eagles are an endangered species, right? That's probably a kite; or maybe a hawk. But not an eagle.

It was making lazy circles, and I lay back admiring its effortless flight. A sudden halt - almost an epoch in time and a quick dive into the water - like a missile - missing it by an inch or so, and a ricochet carrying a frog in its legs.

We stared silently into the spectacle before us - a world we thought that existed only on the National Geographic Channel. A few gasps later I felt, yeah, it could be an eagle. It went to its nest on the opposite side of the river, and the fresh catch attracted two ravens circling around this hunter. She let out a screech - the loudest sound I heard in these parts throughout the trip - scaring the ravens away and left me spellbound.

It was probably not that big a deal to the others - and maybe not to you also. But to me, that was an expression in survival. Performed by an artist.

I tried to capture some photos but my 3x zoom simply couldn't cope up.

Lunch was served, which was quite forgettable. It started to rain and we concluded this afternoon rain was going to be a daily feature. It also started to hail, which was the first time I was witnessing that.

We played cards till evening. At the time of evening tea, by when it was cold and damp, 2 folks from the previous batch came on their Firefox bikes. It was by all means a grand entrance - made grand only by virtue of the bikes. I couldn't get to take a test ride, sadly, as the bikes were quickly locked up by the stricter head honcho. Manish performed some stunts and fell of perfectly executing a 180 degree stoppie.

The 2 guys who came were all praises for the trek and the experience. They warned us against the last stretch of the uphill climb, failing brakes on the downhill, and apparently horrible food at one of out pitstops on the way - "Aunty da Dabha". Point noted.
Two other participants from the last batch joined us later. They also came on Firefoxes, of course.

There was a nagging thought in my mind - and I noticed a similar look of concern on Chetan's face. I confided in him the scenario is envisaged: 11 members on our trip, only 8 Firefox cycles. Out of which four were at hand - and four more would be waiting for us at the next camp where we are to halt the next day. Four members will exchange their Thunder cycles with four from the previous batch, who would wait for us at the 2nd base camp. That leaves 3 people with Hero Thunder bikes for the entire trip. Hmm..

Midnight card game later, it was lights off and the first day of the climb ahead.

Day 3. Aut.

2007-06-18T03:28:00.000-07:00

Early in the morning, while still on the road Mr. Condktr stopped an oncoming bus and hurried us into it. I was quite taken aback by his concern for us tourists. We thanked him profusely for this kind gesture as we would save an hour or two on our way to Kullu!

Of course, the new bus driver stopped for some tea while we waited and paid for our new tickets. There would be a minor delay. Dawn came by, and it was already 5am. Passengers started to trickle in, and we wondered why the hell the bus wasn't leaving as yet. There were other buses to Kullu which were coming and going. A quick glance at the side of our vehicle we found out this was another Punjab Transport Bus, and the 'condaktr' just wanted to fetch them new passengers.

We did leave, albeit and hour later.

Another long bus journey - this time about 7 hours. But we were in Himachal. The familiar hilly terrain, winding roads and clean air. Locals who are always thin and fair. The obsequious Kullu cap on their heads. And the most striking memory - suicidal maniac bus drivers who take heavy vehicles around steep corners like its a Porsche 911. They are awesome at what they do. These folks take their trucks and buses at the very edge of the cliff and don't flinch as they take on the turn and accelerate away. I remembered the last time I was here - 2003, Sar Pass trek at Kasol. I loved it then, I still love it now.

As we reached Aut we came across a tunnel. It hardly had any lights and was so very long! We later found out it is 3 kilometres long. The end of the tunnel heralded the starting of Aut village.

We found the YHAI Base Camp after a bit of walking. It was drizzling by the time we got there. We met two folks having lunch - Chetan and Ved. An elderly gentleman came out of nowhere - I took him to be the camp leader. I found out a little later he was a participant just like the rest of us - a veteran trekker, apparently. I don't think I every really caught his name. We used to always call him 'Uncle'.

Food. It was lunch time. There was enough remaining for the three of us - the food was sufficiently cold, but hey, we were hungry, time for some good old mountain food! We were served small thick chapatis, a curry made out of sprouts (people kept reffering to it as 'dal'. I am under the impression that dal is strictly made out of pulses only), a cauliflower and potato medley, rice and the obsequious pickle/papad combo. All of the above items lacked salt.

We took a break and chilled out as we ate in the gently drizzling rain. It felt comfortable - for there was no more traveling involved. I don't think any of us felt the presence of a single tired bone in our bodies!

There was a caretaker cum cook whose name I don't recall. He was a friendly chap who was very much interested in our well-being but used to mince his words somewhat. We pestered him to let us have a look at our new bikes.. and after a mild reluctance, he took the keys to a room and opened the door..

There were about eleven silver cycles. Hero Thunder MTB. The unmistakable matte finish of an aluminum frame. 21-speed gears waiting patiently to be put into action. I could feel a static energy within us, waiting to be unleashed. But there, in the corner, lay a special machine.

We stared blankly at a Firefox.

I had heard about Firefox in some newspaper article long time ago. "Foreign Bikes are finally coming to India", it said. Further searches on the Internet had revealed these bikes cost Rs. 8000.- upward, far above the reach of the average Indian customer, but apparently well worth it. It is common understanding that cycles in India do not come close to international standards - in terms of components, build quality or features. Firefox, then, is a revolution.

The bike was a Firefox Target. 21speed Mountain Bike with Front Suspension, Shimano RevoShifts (similar ones on the Thunder, these looked different - for now), alloy spokes and V-brakes. It screamed - Ride me! But apparently, the wheel could not be aligned properly after some idiot crashed it, so it could not be driven. But good news - we would be given Firefoxes for our trek, nevertheless! There was a batch already out with the bikes, and we would exchange them in time as we begin our journey.

For now, we took out the Thunders. After much reluctance from the cook/proprietor - it seems he was consoled by the fact that there would be a 60 year old uncle joining us boys in our outing - he let us go, albeit for only about 20 minutes - till the 'camp leader' came back from his outing. We hadn't met him yet. Oh well, no issues.
He said one thing to us, which I found hilarious - "Chachaji ka khiyal rakhna".

The Thunder is a decent bicycle. It's very light, on account of its aluminum frame. The gears responsively clank into position, maybe a little too responsively. The rear mudguards are a pain, as they brushed against the wheels of two of our cycles. The ride quality is harsh, and the handlebars felt a little unstable - but do these things really matter when you're racing down a Himalayan town? We went to the riverbank, by-passing the aforementioned 3 kilometer tunnel, racing as fast as our bikes could take us. The terrain was muddy, with loose rocks and gravel at times - isn't that what mountain biking is about? The bank ended abruptly, with a side exit to the tunnel under construction. This was Photo-Op #1.

We then went back to the town to have some tea, and after some talks we contemplated fishing in the river. Not to eat the fish, no sir, for Youth Hostels is strictly against non-vegetarian food while we are on the trek. I suppose we wanted to see whether it was possible. We went to a couple of near-by shops where we acquired nylon line and a few hooks.. for a paltry Rs.5/- or so. Bait - was a question.. somebody suggested dough works fine. Don;t ask me - I had my reservations on that - how the hell can fish like dough? They are carnivores - they will only fall more moving things like earthworms or insects. Still, with no worms to be found, dough from the tea shop it was. Back to the river-bank!
Uncle, had his reservations on the fishing trip. He was of the opinion that the camp-leader would fire us for:
1) Not reporting on time
2)Taking the bikes without permission of the leader
3)Not coming back in the promised 20 minutes

That is what age does to you, my friends. Makes you more sensible. But ask yourselves - on a holiday, wouldn't you rather be carefree and mirthful than think of adhering to rules? Onward, fishermen!

We spied an Englishman trying to fish, accompanied by a young local female guide. Eyebrows raised, looks exchanged, we carried on with our endeavor. They graciously moved away from us giving us (?them) space.

The Fishing. (Mentioned only for completion)
Equipment: Nylon string, tied at the end with a thumb knot to a hook and baited with 'dough'.
No. of fishermen: 5
No. of fish caught: 0
Later, I tried attaching a small berry to the bait to entice the fish with some colour and a more substantial meal - while I wasn't sure if fish are colour-blind.. none of them fell for it.

Sumedh found a cow or goat vertebra which I think Chetan kept as a souviner. I would have gone for it - but then I remembered the dusty bones from my anatomy lessons tucked away in a corner in my garage - and realised I probably wouldn't have space for a vertebra. If it were a skull - thats another thing; one would make space for something like that!

We came back to the camp, and I was sure the camp leader, if present, would give us hell for fooling around for so long. Mr. Patel. To my surprise, more than relief, he just gave me the required forms to fill. He came across as a soft spoken gentleman from Jharkhand or Bihar.

A light reprimand (more like in a matter of speaking) later, he let us back into our rooms. There was a group of four middle aged gentlemen already present in one of the rooms. They were from Andhra Pradesh, as was evident in their accents and appearances. In my first meeting with one of them, I offered my hand as an introduction and he shoved a camera in my hand - they wanted a photo of them in a nearby makeshift tent. The tent was purely symbolic, by the way - we slept in pucca rooms.
Their camera was a 3MP Canon Powershot A300. Not bad, but a tad too slow for my liking. Faster than my Sony Cybershot P8 - but my LCD is better. Ha!
Two photos taken and I was getting annoyed. I shoved the camera back into their hands and walked off for my well-deserved bath.

Manish came out of the bathroom first warning of apnoeic spells owing to the freezing water. He wasn't wrong - I can honestly say that I haven't bathed in colder water than what is there in Aut.

A bath and shave later, it was time for dinner. I don't remember what we had - just like I don't remember most of the other meals - for they tasted the same from here on end. Saltless, containing the same cauliflower and potato bhaji and rice and chapps. The pickle, I distinctly remember, as it remained the same all the way till the end. A mixed pickle, with so much salt it seemed its purpose was to compensate for the lack of it in the food in general.

Dinner over, a walk by the river-bank later, we got on to our rooms, and opened the pack of cards I had got from the train. We played 'teen patti' - something like Poker, and 'Judgement' - a serially played games with points. I didn't win any; but I think I gained a reputation for betting too high on unnecessary stakes. We ran out of tokens to bet with - we were using newspapers scraps till then - and then we started betting with pebbles from the riverbank, water bottles, chap-stick, paper-scraps from our wallets, visiting cards - heh heh - I am proud to report I managed to bet (and win back) my SD-Card Cover and Information Pamphlet and the entire contents of my wallet. It was all in fun of course; and we managed a barter too, where I exchanged a chap stick I had won from Chetan with some rocks I had selectively lifted from the riverbank. Good fun.

The Campfire.
The last event to end the day with on Youth Hostel treks is a campfire. There is no real fire, please don't wonder why; there are many rumors but the most likely reason is that 'burning of firefood in Himachal Pradesh is a punishable offence'. There are others like somebody lost an eye in cutting firewood, etc - but less the work for something mandatory like this, the better.

Campfire is when all the members with the team leader gather around and most of the participants, if not all, are expected to share something - a joke or song or story or whatever - and we are offered Bournvita/Milo/Boost in return. Supposed to improve national integration and tolerance to one another. None of us bothered to sing songs, but all of us were made to crack a joke each by Mr. Patel, and that certainly helped break the ice. My joke was sufficiently laughed at, I'm pleased to report. And I am equally pleased to reminisce that the joke by the Andhra fellow who took my hand for a sincere offer to click one of their many group photographs - was barely understood and he gave a frown in response.

Lights out, but we continued with our cards. Us youngsters in one room, the oldies with Uncle in the other.

On The Train, and to the Bus

2007-06-18T03:20:00.000-07:00

This was probably the only boring part of the trip. The co-passengers were nice enough, but involved in their own affairs. We had only one pack of cards among us to pass the time with - which we soon got bored of. I didn't bring a book or newspaper - and I found myself reading and re-reading the brochure that came with my new Memory Stick. And the landscape - rustic village life, dry barren land, squatters, emaciated animals and empty rivers - repetitive and boring stuff. Occasionally we chanced upon ruins of old forts or mosques as we reached Agra in the evening. Of course, I naively hoped to see the Taj passing by. I didn't see it.

In Delhi, we had trouble finding the bus to Kullu. The last bus for the night was out, and there wouldn't be anymore till early next morning. We settled for one which would take us to Chandigargh at 4 am; and a second bus would take us to Aut by afternoon.

Chandigargh Transport buses are quite comfortable. They had mobile charging points at every seat - which I couldn't use as my charger was stashed away in my bag at the rear of the bus. By the way, I had the best Aloo Paranthas of the trip on the bus - we got it from the ISBT at Delhi.
I was fortunate enough to sit next to the conductor, who kicked me out of the window seat where I was seated, to the seat adjacent to it - as apparently, that window seat was meant for the "condaktr". Still, he was a talkative chap, and I was able to nod my head throughout a conversation where I barely understood a few words through his thick Haryanvi accent. I told him about our plans and he said he'll help us to find a bus the next day.

Day 1. Mumbai

2007-06-16T10:39:00.001-07:00

Our itinerary was simple - take a train from Mumbai to Delhi, then take an overnight bus journey to Aut village, a few kms before Kullu.

To get to Mumbai I took one of the asiad buses. Normally, I travel in a 'deluxe' bus which is in fact the cheapest ticket available. Considering the heat and a wad of cash in my pocket I decided to go for an 'AC Volvo' worth 200 bucks.. but I wasn't given a Volvo.. it was a 'Sutlej'. As irritating as it was, its happened to me before. I had anticipated something like this anyways. Any luxurious bus is called a 'Volvo' and a Sutlej is not bad. But it isn't a Volvo.

I reached Bombay at 3pm, after a nonstop 2 and a half hour journey. My train was at 7.30. I had plenty of time to kill - and would have loved to explore at least some parts of Mumbai - but I was lugging around a 15kg sling back on one shoulder.

There was also the problem of my digicam - memory stick. I had with me 64+16MB of space - which would provide me with about 42 photos. I had previously decided to allocate a few hundreds from my budget for memory space, but my wallet contents stood at Rs.3800. Would it really suffice for bus tickets to Aut, a 2-day trip to Manali, bus tickets to Rohtang Pass, return ticks to Delhi, and expenses in Delhi - provided nothing goes wrong?

Oh what the hell. Memories are more valuable than souvenirs and luxuries. I decided to go for it! Destination 1: JJ Mehta Photo Supplies, Dadar (West).

In Mumbai there are so many people around you wherever you look. But hardly anyone seems to know directions to anywhere. I asked several passers-by and taxi drivers around the Dadar Railway Station, no one seemed to know the whereabouts of this place. Finally, I approached a group of traffic policemen who kindly informed me that I was in fact in Dadar (East) - and to get to my destination I had to cross a bridge over the station and walk a little in some vague direction.

It turned out to be farther than I thought, and my bag was on the verge of causing brachial plexus injuries to either shoulder of mine. My only respite was that the bag had hard wheels on one side - I couldn't drag it - but if anyone tried to brush against my bag as people often do in crowded places, they would hurt themselves nicely.

JJ Mehta was a little more than a hole in the wall. From its very comprehensive website, I had expected an airy spacious showroom of some sort. Still, there was a small crowd, always a good sign of reliable services. The salesmen were well-informed, and I acquired a SanDisk 512MB Memory Stick for 1000 bucks. Too bad I couldn't get 1GB at that price.

I went back to Dadar East, and sat down at a Coffee Day to pass time. I even chanced upon three college friends whom I hadn't seen in about 5 years. Now that's a coincidence - that can happen only in Mumbai. Two of them are off to the states while one is an editor for a magazine. It made me think of what direction my own life is headed, but thankfully those thoughts were cut short as I had a train to catch.

I met Manish for the first time at the Railway Station at about 7:15. Sumedh came running a few minutes before the arrival of the train - apparantly he was misinformed of the departure details. Oh well. Time to embark on the jouney!

Bombay Amritsar Golden Temple Express. Second Class Sleeper. It was going to be a long train journey.

Prelude

2007-06-06T19:24:00.000-07:00

It was one of those afternoons, when I was sitting round the comp, bored as usual, checking my stocks and trying to decide what to do about it (but not having the money to do anything anyways) when Sumedh chatted up on Gtalk, asking me whether I was interested in going for a cycling trip in the Himalayas.

Usually, I would think about the problems facing such an endeavor; viz. parents objections, money, time etc., in that order, of course. But this time, I was seriously bored. I just said Yes.

I later started anticipating resistance from my folks. My dad indeed did give in some words of disapproval, but relented in an hour or so. Mom was so lenient I kind of realized that I don't really know my parents that well!

Sumedh was able to rope in a third person called Manish. We registered ourselves well in advance, and Sumedh booked tickets for Delhi by rail and back by air. By the way, you can avail a 30% discount on airfares if you use an ICICI Gold Credit Card.

The rail tickets were acquired a few days beore the departure on tatkal basis. We were good to go.

My Trip to the Himalaya

2007-06-06T19:15:00.000-07:00

Well, dear numerous readers, I have successfully returned from my Expedition to the Himalaya.. which I will be chronicling in the next few posts. It was, a spectacular trip.

Himalayas, here I come!!

2007-05-05T22:07:00.000-07:00

Jalori Pass
Image from: http://www.klausdierks.com/Himalaya_Deutsch/Photo_Dokumentation-2003.htm

Yup, that's where I'm headed this summer. Jalori Pass, Himachal Pradesh. An 8 day Cycling Trip, from 26th May to 2nd June. More later. For details, click here.

Nothing like a Classic

2007-05-05T04:03:00.000-07:00

The Classic Bajaj Pulsar. Also, the fastest :). But beware - she has a mind of her own on corners..

Flower in Contrast

2007-05-05T03:56:00.000-07:00

A heavily edited pic. Sony DSC-P8, Microsoft Photo Editor.

Coaching or Learning

2007-05-05T03:36:00.000-07:00

Today is the last day to pay the fees at IMS for their last CAT Batch for 2007 CAT. Yes, after a lot of contemplation I decided to take a chance in chucking my Medical career and give the CAT a shot. I was going to give GRE and GMAT anyways; I thought I'd prepare for the mother of all exams and give the baby exams as a bonus.

I was never a fan of coaching classes. I think they spoon-feed you all the detail; and leave you with the sole task of mugging up the data they serve you. No thanks, I'd rather learn.

Unfortunately, that ideological approach did not serve me well during my 10th or 12th std. board exams. For my 12th I decided to try doing Maths and French on my own. My aim was, perhaps only to pass - which I eventually did - but not without sacrificing a lot of time from the other subjects, which I needed to concentrate on very badly. Not to mention the arrhythmias I used to suffer in the period between the Board Exams and the results. I was confident of failing. You know, I hadn't passed a single exam on my own in Maths or French in the two years I studied it. Maths, at least I was in the borderline- but in French, my marks used hang around in the 10% area.

I realized - the mistake I made was not asking for help when I needed it. In this case help cam with hefty fees, but I should have gone for classes. That's how it is in these competitive days, you can't afford to waste time figuring out things for yourself.

IMS. After some research I came to the conclusion that all the MBA Coaching classes are more or less equal - it depends on how much work the subject is willing to put in. Like all classes, I suppose. I wasn't going to consider IMS because it was a wee bit more expensive than the others - but I attended a counselling session which they had and I was left spellbound. They wanted to concentrate on basics. They wanted to teach me concepts. They were not interested in formulae or short-cuts. I thought, maybe, this might just work out.

To quit my medical career is a decision I made with a very heavy heart. I visited Tata Memorial Hospital (Mumbai) yesterday and I had a lot of difficulty in convincing myself that I would be better off in Management. I know I can become a good clinician. I also know that the current hospital I am in does not provide me with any skills, opportunities, nor goals which will make me want to stay in this field.

Chernobyl Legacy

2007-05-01T06:28:00.000-07:00

Please visit this site.

Chernobyl Legacy

What do you think of your country's nuclear capacity now?

Moth on Leaf

2007-04-30T06:17:00.000-07:00

Weeds

2007-04-30T06:12:00.000-07:00

My introduction to Music

2007-04-30T05:28:00.000-07:00

As a kid I was never really a music fan. We used to have a big collection of tapes in about three different languages, spanning many genres but I never got beyond appreciating commercial Hindi music, and maybe the occasional boy bands in the later days.

One day, about seven years ago, I was taking a walk around Shivaji Park area in Dadar, Mumbai after my tuitions with a friend. Shivaji Park is, as every other place in Mumbai, a very crowded place, where mostly you'll find children playing cricket - lots of them! Around the circumference there are a few adventurous types who jog dodging people, dogs and cars. There is also a ledge around the circumference where guys just hang out watching time fly.

Anyways, that one evening, it was around 7, and pretty dark too. We were somewhere near the centre of the huge ground. What dragged us there was a big stage, still under construction. There were some big speakers too, but I didn't realize how big it was, till a little later.

As we were standing there, in the somewhat less crowded grounds, probably enjoying the peace. When suddenly there's this strange sound.. a singer with a high pitched voice saying something like "mtv" or rather "I want my mtv". Strange. It was loud though, and somewhat awe inspiring. Who would say something like that?

And then.

Dire Straits - Mon...

Drums. Drums louder than anything. Slowly. Then fast. Faster. Some guitar riffs coming here and then. It was the loudest music I'd heard. And I was in front of the speakers. More guitars, More drums. Its like out of control almost. And then when you feel a high - a kind of high like you get 4 seconds after a double vodka shot neat - it all ends to give way to a heavily distorted Gibson Les Paul.. the intro is over, the song begins.

Image: http://www.connollyco.com/

The song is Money for Nothing, by Dire Straits. Its a song like no other I'd heard. A man with gruff vocals comes up, and talks the song instead of singing it. Mark Knopfler. I could tell the guitar riffs - repetitive as it was, was genius. The guy with the high pitched voice came out again. Sting.

That night, my friend and I stood stunned, staring at the makeshift stage. After a while, I noticed the others in the ground were also as transfixed as I. It was music, man.. pure, raw music - the type which holds you by the balls and assaults your senses. I didn't know which song it was, then - but eventually I did. Dire Straits - Sultans of Swing was the second album I ever bought - it was the best one, too.

I realized a while later that that day was August 14th, and the stage was put up for the Independence Day Celebrations on the following day. Some wise guy thought of playing this song after setting up the sound system.

It was a sort of freedom for me, too. I discovered music that day.

Runner's High

2007-04-04T09:24:00.000-07:00

Week 5 of my 15 week running program: Ran 8.2 kms in 50 minutes. Only a matter of a month or so before I can attempt 10 kms at a stretch - and then all I'll need to do is speed training!

I started running after an 'inspired' attempt at last year's Pune Marathon 10 km race. Well I didn't intend to run 10kms, a friend and myself, we intended to run for the 5 km AIDS Charity Run; but we took a wrong turn and ended up in the route for the 10km race. After finding out the the real finish line was 5 km further away, we did what any young blooded runner would do - run the remaining 5 kms!

That day I think I managed it in 1 hour, 15 minutes.

Today was a good run. After a long time I felt the second wind (Anaerobic Glycolysis) kicking in, after about 5km into it. Satisfied!

Cesar Pasta

2007-03-31T09:05:00.000-07:00

I love pasta - not particularly for how it tastes; sure, it tastes good, but I love it because its so easy to make. Ingredients are simple, prep is quick, and if you botch it up just add enough cheese and you'll be okay.

Finding Italian ingredients used to be a problem - and still is, in some places.. so I usually substitute with local or dried herbs.

Todays recipe is a spin-off on something I originally saw in a book called "Fast Pasta". Excellent book, but the ingredients are a tad too exotic in most of the recipes. This one is quite good on one of those hot summer nights.

Ingredients:

Dry Pasta (Any).. 250g
Tomatoes.. 4 big ones, chopped
Tomato Puree .. 1/2 pkt.
Onion.. 1, chopped
Garlic.. 4 cloves, minced
Button Mushrooms.. 10 or more.. quartered
Bacon, de-rinded.. 100g, chopped
Chicken Sausages (optional).. 2 nos, cut into small pieces
Parsley (optional).. a few sprigs
Chilli Flakes .. 1 tsp.
Olive Oil .. 1 tbsp.
Salt and pepper .. to taste

I used Penne, but I think Spaghetti would be ideal. In which case make sure the bacon is cut in longer strips.

Method:
Into a little olive oil in a hot saucepan, sautee onions and garlic. When onions turn translucent, add bacon and fry till a little brown. Add tomatoes. Stir. Add tomato puree, bring to a boil, and reduce flame to low heat. Add sausages, chilli flakes and parsley. Add salt and pepper. Cover and simmer for 10 minutes or till tomatoes are well blended into the sauce.

On covering start boiling water for pasta (new pan, of course) and cook it according to instructions on cover. Al dente :)

Add cooked pasta to the sauce, mix it delicately in the pan till the sauce coats the pasta. Sprinkle Parmesan on cheddar cheese on top and serve.

Of all the things, I found Kokam juice an excellent accompaniment. That's a personal choice, of course..

Make it today. I can guarantee you, girls will love you for it. Guys.. well, they'll eat anything with meat in it. Cheers!

Damp Squib

2007-03-28T06:42:00.000-07:00

What a bunch of losers! The CR actually complained to the Senior Lecturer about my actions. That too, without hearing my side of the story. They behave like a bunch of Primary School children, I tell you. "I am the monitor and if you don't listen to me I will complain to the teacher". Idiots!

As for me, I had no choice but to be apologetic. This woman, I knew from prior experience, has no interest in my welfare. As expected I was let off with a slap on the wrist and a warning.

Which basically means I can't slack off as much as I used to. For a couple of days, at least!

Lull Before the Storm

2007-03-27T00:24:00.000-07:00

I went to clinic with a bit of trepidation. A fellow intern had told me earlier that the CR intends to complain to the HOD about me. My mom was furious at my cockiness and convinced me to be apologetic in front of the HOD. I didn't know what to expect. I looked up the days remaining for my posting to get over at the notice board - there is exactly one month left.

The residents came by, and we went for the rounds. Not a word was spoken, and the hostility was palpable. Not even a glance, nor an acknowledgment of my presence. I asked JR if anything needed to be done and after some careful thinking led me to fill one discharge card. He let me go home soon.

I doubt if they'll do anything against me now. They sure as hell won't be friendly for a long time, but I didn't come here to make friends anyway.

Stand your ground, Soldier

2007-03-26T08:51:00.000-07:00

Wow! What a roller coaster day! I have not done anything as radical as this in a very long time!

As you probably must have gathered from my previous posts, I have mixed feelings about my Medicine Department where I am currently posted as an Intern.. and that there is no love lost between me and most of my residents, especially the Junior Resident (JR).

In the medico hierarchy, an Intern becomes a Junior Resident, after passing the requisite competitive exams of course, who then automatically becomes a Senior Resident after one year, who is promoted to Chief Resident in another year.

My JR, is a pain in the ass. He tries to dump his dirty work on me - which means collecting lab reports two floors down, writing discharge cards, filling registers - clerical and peon work. The initial days of this fiasco I considered it as a minor chore.. but now, I see it as an embarrassment. I, being a qualified doctor having to do work befitting a ward-boy - and that too not getting paid for it - ridiculous!

Interns in my hospital have been doing this all along. I don't know what morals or principles they adhere too - apparently they have no regard for their self esteem. Thus, the residents have gotten used to having their personal slaves hanging around with their tails behind their legs doing what they say.

Today, that was not going to happen. My JR told me to collect 5 reports from the lab. And if the reports were not printed yet, scribble the findings on a piece of paper, so that the rounds of the senior residents could be done with first.

I went to the lab and only 1 was ready. The lab rats wouldn't let me copy any findings as they were busy printing the reports. So I went back to the JR with the one report.

After voicing his frustrations for a few moments he told me to go back and collect it. I told him, "Frankly, I won't do your servant-work any more". Yelling at me followed, saying this was my duty and I had to do it, to which I retaliated, "No. It isn't my duty, its yours. Further more, ever since I joined this unit you people haven't taught me a single thing worth knowing, and all I do is run around with errands. I am not interested in doing such work any more."

He said he'll complain to the CR. I told him to go ahead. (The CR happens to be a friend). He then said he'll complain to the Head of the Department. I told him, "Go right ahead. Either ways I think I'll complain to him myself, against the kind of work you make me do". And then, silence. This was in the ward. The patients were looking on, and the sisters were also staring. I walked off.

The worst that can happen is an extension of my posting -which will be a torture - to a slap on the wrist. But I intend to confront the senior teachers if the residents provoke me. Tomorrow will be more interesting.

You know, this is such a small incident. Collecting reports and delivering them, sort of like an elaborate mailman with a stetho (Fittman, of course). Hardly something to get worked up about you might say.

But this is about principle. An intern is a qualified doctor having dedicated 4.5 years of his life to medicine. And then, being delegated to work fit for a servant - it can be done, but it won't be done. Nobody has bothered to protest the pathetic scheme of things in this place. I choose to stand my ground. I can't wait for tomorrow.

The Namesake and 300

2007-03-25T10:55:00.000-07:00

Two movies in two days. Big deal, huh? Well how about two very good films? How often do you come across something like that now-a-days?

I saw The Namesake today. Honestly, I didn't go with any great expectations. In fact, I went more to accompany my family rather than anticipate a moving experience.

The movie is about a Bengali family in America.

A phrase from the movie resonated within me when I heard it - for it reinforced something I deeply believe in. A man says to his son -

Whenever you feel everything is against you - pack your pillow, and see the world, my son - And you will never regret it.

Indeed, how else can you get over your present troubles than by experiencing something different, or something new? There are so many things left to be done in this world - what can be so big as to stop us from discovering it?

This boy, in the movie - being brought up in a foreign country, comes to India one day and finds a part of the country in him all along. We will always carry a part of India with us - and will always recognize it when we see it, whether we like it or not.

And that is how it is with us youngsters, isn't it? We feel that the country has let us down - for many reasons, but once you triple distill all of them like Smirnoffs Vodka, it is because we are not up to the challenge. We yearn to go abroad in search of opportunity and a "fair" life - but does it feel fair to be running away from your homeland? Isn't there a voice within you saying you might as well try and make things better instead of going someplace where poverty means not having money to buy shampoo?

The movie, on the other hand, also has some good things to say about life back there. Indians there form a community through which we remain closer to our roots than we imagine. And that of course, you can make it big there if you really want to.

The other touching aspect of the movie, to me, is about family bonds. It is very easy as youngsters to ignore the wishes of our parents in the pretext of freedom and independence. Thinking that we are indebted to them makes us feel old fashioned. And only when they are gone, do we realise our shortcomings.

There is some good acting, and decent love scenes. I wish it was less decent, of course. Tabu is a seasoned veteran, our protagonist Kal gives an above average performance - but Irrfan Khan is splendid. From start to finish. And beyond.

See the movie, you won't regret it.

The other movie is 300. There's nothing much to say, given its spartan storyline. It's about fighting for what you believe in. And about what to believe in. Sterling performances and stunning visuals. A must-watch.

Show's over, Blue Billion.. Time to go home

2007-03-23T19:46:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay, busy with the markets lately.

The quintessential World Cup post. Honestly, I didn't feel the hype this year and even though we lost, it doesn't seem like the end of the world as it would have, say, four years ago.

Everybody is going to have his or her emotional boo-hoo's about the whole fiasco. I just feel sad for all the school boys and girls; for whom cricket is the only source of inspiration in a sport-drained country. Our team has let us down, once again - time to move on. Then again, for some of the kids, it would be a blessing in disguise, as it is exam season after all.

Brace yourselves for the postmortem. Every true Indian will have his or her 'humble' opinion on why we lost, who should be sacked, why they will not watch cricket any more, and whose house is going to be stoned first. Out of which nothing really is going to happen - except for the stoning part.

Don't dwell on it too much, folks. Maybe we'll come back like France did in football; or maybe we'll lose to Bangla again. It is in our nature to be inconsistent and unpredictable. Think about something else in the meanwhile, like our economy. At least it's doing much better than that of the teams that have beaten us.

Breaking the Jinx

2007-03-13T03:39:00.000-07:00

Bought Mindtree @ 844
Day Open: 799
Day High: 914
Last Trade Price: 878

Better Late than never. Have some cash to buy on dips too. I'll sell it within a few days coz it's not gonna hold for long.

*Update 15/03/2007*
Day High: 1021.80
Last Trade Price: 932.40

Intuition based stock. It's growing too big, too fast.

Mistakes, Mistakes

2007-03-12T10:36:00.000-07:00

I'm an amateur stock market investor. One fine day I had thought to myself, "Hell, I don't really need money for anything anyways, other for fuel and drinks, so why waste it?" And thus I began my foray into this jungle.

I consider myself a risk-taker. Which doesn't mean I go about hunting for small-cap, sub-100 Rupee stocks; nor do I (anymore) go on the tips of some 'expert' on the telly. I can put it a substantial amount of cash and bear the occasional arrythmia because the greed is there. And of course, I have no dependents nor debts of any kind, so there's no urgency.

There is an IT company called Mindtree. In a nutshell, its run by one of the ex chairmen of Wipro, and it looks pretty darn good on the fundamentals side. When it came out with an IPO, it was, on the surface, a must-have stock. "Aankh bandh kar ke khareed lo" types. Hell, it was so good that it was oversubscribed about 100 times. And so, even thought I applied with a modest sum of 20 grand I got nothing. I had locked in my cash for a month waiting for the results and the refund. Lost out on many other opportunities.

I learnt that for an excellent IPO; like Mindtree, or the erstwhile Tech Mahindra, one should consider buying it on the listing day, or maybe a few days after that. Lesson 1 learnt, I ventured to buy this elusive stock after all, in the Secondary Market.

Cut to today morning, before the Opening Bell. Last Traded Price: Rs. 649. I thought of getting ambitious and bid for Rs.655. I had to go to my clinic and and left it at that.
Cut to the afternoon. I checked the stock status at my college 'digital library'. it had shot up to Rs.725.

Words cannot describe the euphoria I felt. It was, maybe the first time I had the guts to go about buying a stock with a substantial amount of my savings, based on some sound research. I met two friends with whom I couldn't help but share the joy. It was a particularly boring day at the clinic till then, but what difference can a few idiot Residents make to a person on the path to financial freedom and riches galore!

And, cut to evening, 8.30pm. I had just been let off by my Residents. Those sadistic loafers had made me wait till 7 doing odd jobs of collecting lab reports from two floors down and up several times; and filling in OPD registers with fake names for an upcoming MCI Inspection. Although totally exhausted the faint excitement of the days profits (and future profits) were still ebbing within me.

Well. Disaster. For some reason the order had expired. My bid, although it was acceptable, didn't go through. I tried several times refreshing my Order Book, hoping against hope for something to come through, but nothing happened. I went to my account to see my balance funds and they were still there. What had happened? I don't really know, but there was a column which I had left blank while placing my order - called "trigger price". I never used to fill it so I really didn't know what it did, maybe that did me in.

I'm gonna find out what exactly went wrong but till then I'm only gonna buy when markets are open.

I keep getting reminded everyday that the market is not for the weak of heart. One makes mistakes but one learns a lot from every one of them. The more mistakes you make the more you learn. It is difficult to remember that when you are losing money all the time :) but it shows if you persevere.

I'm just caught thinking what to do tomorrow. Should I still go for Mindtree (thinking long term) or should I wait for lower levels. My gut tells me to buy. I'm not going to clinic tomorrow.

Bloody Idiot

2007-03-05T08:05:00.000-08:00

My tyre was FLAT the next day. Reason: there was still a bit of the nail sticking in the tyre, which Baby had overlooked to remove. Had to mooch a ride to hospital and took the bus home. My poor bike!

Puncture XXX

2007-03-04T08:19:00.000-08:00

Today the rear tyre of my bike got punctured for the fourth time. It's not a big deal by biker standards, especially considering I've had it for about 3 years. But what a pain it is.

One major bit of advice I'd like to give you.. Always be on the lookout for puncture-wallahs/repairers. You should know their locations all around your city. Searching for the tyre-wallah can get very frustrating, especially since passers-by are as clueless as you are (if they are walking, they don't have a bike - so how will they know where repair shops are?)

A petrol pump is your best bet, especially if you don't know your whereabouts. Usually they have repairers there itself.

And once you do find him, be ready for a long wait. I had two people ahead of me and it took him one hour to get to me.

All basic info eh, but what the heck.

I did find a puncture repairer, a guy called Baby. He was (of course) a Mallu, and I had a chat with him. I didn't understand half the things he was explaining about my tyre, but there were about 8-10 holes in the tube and the cheaper option was to change the tube itself. 170 bucks. Hmm I wonder if that's why I needed to inflate my tyres every week. Lets see..

One thing which struck me was what an advantage it is knowing a language alien to your city. Or what that matter knowing about different cultures and places. For I was able to connect with a puncture-wallah of all the people; simply because I recognized his hometown by his accent. Well you might argue it was quite useless considering he didn't give me any discount as such, but would you do the same? Naah, me neither.

Littman and Fittman

2007-03-01T11:37:00.000-08:00

This is a Littman. If you don't know what it is, you do not have anything to do with the medical profession.

For this is the Rolls Royce of Stethoscopes. The best in any Price Range. Take it from me, it is enough to make you feel like a better doctor the minute you hold it. The winding L on the face of the Steth is enough to even evoke gasps in the chests of fledgling medical students. It is expensive, classy, and one of those things that last a lifetime. One of the signs of making it "big" as a doc is owning a Littman.

Cost: Littman Classic SE II: Rs. 3500/-

Er.. In case you are wondering, Littman, if he was a man, did not invent the Stetho. It was a Frenchman, Rene Laennec.

And this, ladies and gentlemen is the Fittman. Heh heh.. on close scrutiny, you fill find that the "F" on the face closely resembles the well known "L" of the Littman. The trained eye will notice that it is indeed the same L; which is inverted.

The Fittman is a far cry from the big L. It cannot come close to duplicating the quality of a Littman. It is like comparing your local auto-rickshaw stereo speaker to a Harmon-Kardon. In all probability you will mistake a pan-systolic murmur for breath sounds.

But what is it, other than a cheap stetho with a big presumptous "F" on it? Ah, it is the ultimate show of attitude of the medical student against his harassing superiors. When less civilized folks show their middle finger as an act of insult, all our tactful little medico needs to do is flash the stetho as it dangles on his shoulders. This is thus, The Big F!

Cost: Fittman ver I: Rs. 100/-

Contact me for a piece. Limited stocks!

We've saved the best for last

2007-03-01T10:19:00.000-08:00

I started my last major posting in this hospital today - Medicine. It was the one subject that I truly loved - not because I followed a good textbook, not because of any superb teachers, not at all because of a good clinical exposure in terms of patients, hell, not even because of any hot residents/interns/teachers. I just loved it. There is a scientific method to be followed in diagnosis; and clinical examination is really an art. In Surgery you need investigations to assist you; Gynae and Obs is limited in scope and variations. But Medicine - it remains a rare fusion of Art, gained only by practice and Science, acquired only by sheer hard work and (more importantly) Common Sense.

Lets see how it goes.. I got into the most hectic Unit with 2 OPDs a week (the other units have 1) and it is run by the HOD himself. To top it all, the person in charge of attendance/performance of the interns, a strange little sadistic creature is also one of the lecturers here. Great. Another 2 eventful months. I tried to get out of it by fabricating stories of fake classes on OPD days but the sadist told me to either leave the classes or get an authorized letter proving I have classes on that day - and on doing that I still wouldn't be allowed to change units, I'll only be allowed to exchange my OPD days with someone else.

Looks like my college won't be letting go of me without trying to bestialize me one final time.

Beat your Katraj blues

2007-02-27T09:45:00.000-08:00

Yes, here's a toast to all those who've experienced hell on earth - the Katrajians! Okay fine, Katrajkars. (When in Rome..) And a special one to those who have been unfortunate enough to actually study here - your situation makes Constantine's hell look like a theme park!

Anyways whenever you feel like the devil has pinched your bottom for the umpteenth time.. its always nice to know that there is an Oasis where you can drown your sorrows at least for a little while..

Yeah, it is none other than.. Katraj Ghats!!

No, that's not Ooty, can you believe it - this is actually the extension of Katraj. Doesn't it look serene? Yes my friends, there IS an invisible line between Heaven and Hell, and believe it or not, it does have a name! It's called the Pune Municipal Corporation Jurisdiction Line.

Some more eye candy..

These were taken on a trek a friend and I ventured on one rainy day (quite literally). And about how it felt - the pictures tell it all, really.

Camel Falls. Named after the well liked Turkish exports.

You can really re-discover yourself at a place like this!

Er.. not to put a dampener or anything.. but this kind of scenery exists only in the monsoon. So in all the other seasons all you can expect to see is dry, arid land. It might not lighten your mood so much, but what the hell - carry along some like minded buddies and your tried and trusted friend Romanov, and you are back to planet Paradise!

A Tribute to Axl Rose

2007-02-27T09:30:00.000-08:00

Many thanks to "Fla$h" for help with this one

Road Trip!

2007-02-25T21:15:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I had the good fortune of going on a small 1 day bike trip to Mulshi Dam, about 70 kms from Pune city proper. Needless to say, Mulshi is a great place whichever time of the year - always enough water around - and the numerous dhabas are affordable and provide you with a memorable rustic ambiance. Just - don't trust the local petrol or alcohol!

I had a great time. It was the perfect weekend break, along with great friends, good food and good amounts of decent whisky. We went to a quaint little place a hike away from the lake - and also managed the quintessential swim in the waters.

But what really stood out was the ride. And WHAT a ride. Once you get out of city limits (beyond Chandini Chowk) you are greeted with very smooth stretches of asphalt - I didn't encounter a single pothole! I'm even willing to bet my money that the PMC had nothing to do with construction/maintenance of this area.

And that made my day. Minimal traffic even on a Sunday.. and being a thoroughly capable bike the Bajaj Pulsar, I couldn't stop myself from zooming away. My two other friends were on an Apache and since I knew there was no way they could keep up with me, I had pre-decided to take it easy - but the road just beckoned me and my bike into taking it to the extreme. And thus, once again I experienced the familiar adrenaline rush, 90kmph average speeds, peg-scraping turns, and inner peace. I was instantly reminded of the following words, which I think came in a recent Outlook magazine: "I'd rather be on a motorcycle thinking about God than in a church thinking about my motorcycle". Needless to say one should be thinking about God in church anyways - or maybe of the countless sins you committed; but that's for another day.

Yesterday, was for riding. And experiencing the freedom a bike gives you. Sometimes it's like flying, you know. Your eyes are constantly on the road and you have to be acutely aware of the motorcycle dynamics going on under you. All the time the wind hits you making you more aware of how fast you are going. It's like - you and your machine are just going so fast it's unnatural - and that is how it feels.

Highway to Hell

2007-02-24T10:11:00.000-08:00

I travel via the Pune-Satara Road almost everyday. It starts from Swargate, a bottleneck of a major bus stop and extends to the outer city limits somewhere in Katraj where it miraculously transforms into the Pune-Satara Highway. In between, there are wide stretches of tarmac separated by a single deadly turn (Swami Vivekananda Junction, apparently), and of course the omnipresent potholes here and there.

Pune Satara Road - Before the BRT

There is a signal which takes you to a certain semi-urban area called Dhankawadi. Locals may scroll down to avoid painful reminders of riding in this motorway. To the uninitiated, the Balaji Nagar - Dhankawadi stretch is the most chaotic road in this side of the city. The road itself is narrow due to shop encroachments. People hover around like flies over a carcass giving two hoots about their own lives. But the traffic - ah! There is a certain enigma - an ether if you will - nay a force, oh Jedi, which takes over all drivers and transforms them into.. "Survival Beast Mode"!

Commandments of the Survival Beast Mode

Race.
This is a highway. Fuck the idiots trying to cross the road. Honk, Flash lights, and nearly miss the illiterate fools who litter the road.
Thou shalt overtake from whichever side possible.
On hitting anyone (which is imminent) - RUN.

Of course, Yours truly has had his share of incidents on his trusted steed - but never stooped so low as to fall down in this hell-hole. I have been hit by two scooters (yeah i know, its never the fault of the narrator, but the scoots did hit me). Needless to say those fuck-all machines didn't stand a chance. I didn't stay too long either for a mob to come attack me and my machine.

The thing is, this is a stretch of complete lawlessness. Add to that the presence of a University in the vicinity housing about 10 odd colleges - I've seen my share of accidents as a doc. Everyday.

Recently the brilliant PMC decided to introduce the BRT - Bus Rapid Transit system to the country. And the prototype: none other than the Highway to Hell.
To the uninitiated, the BRT is a separate lane on the road, in the centre, meant exclusively for Public Buses.

This was the brainchild of a special team (corporators) who went to Bogotá and some other places abroad - and considered this the solution to Pune's traffic woes. Narrow down the already small roads and dump more signals on them.

I cannot appear to give an unbiased opinion because there is nothing in this madness. In 2 months more than 4 people have died on the road (due to the BRT; as such it is a death zone as mentioned) and others have died in the adjoining road - including a friend of mine who was run over by a truck plying on a tributary.

Avoiding this main road is out of the question. There is one solution to staying alive in Katraj. Pray.

A day in my hospital

2007-02-24T08:33:00.000-08:00

An advantage of working in the lower rungs of the medical hierarchy is that one is constantly exposed to bumbling idiots. It is easy to screw up in the medical profession be it a doctor or a ward boy; because there is a minimum prerequisite that applies to everyone here - and that is Common Sense.

And Common Sense, my friends, or rather the lack of it is what makes life in my clinic so enjoyable.

Case 1.
Lipoma Excision

And so one fine day, towards the end of my 2 month Surgical Rotation, I was called to assist a Senior Resident in the Excision of a Lipoma ( a lump of fat). So, being the jolly good intern that I was (those were the infancy days, the last of the few that I thought I'd actually continue being a Doctor) - I washed my hands (scrubbed? in the Minor OT? Ha- that one's for the Dettol ads) put on a pair of gloves (I trust the autoclave as much as the roadside samosa-wallah) and started assisting.

The SR, the bumbling idiot that he was kept on fucking around with the Local Anaesthesia and incision. Pretty soon we got used to the groans and cries of the patient who was either having a curious resistance to the effect of Lignocaine or was just being treated by a couple of idiots.

Towards the end of the bloody ordeal, we noticed that the patient was silent for a while. The doc then told him "Baba, only a few minutes remaining, don't worry". No answer. "Baba.. did you hear me? It's almost done" No answer. "Baba!" Now even I was getting worried. What the fuck is going on? I shook him and asked "Baba!!" He's suddenly awake now - "Huh?? What? My name is not Baba!"

Well. If you didn't find that funny, the story is not yet over, dumbass. The bumbling fool had left a bit of the lump in the patients neck and overlooked to remove it before stitching him up. He noticed it - he saw that even I could notice it - and then to Baba "Uhh.. Look here, this kind of lump has a tendency to re-appear, so.. you might need to come back after 6 months."

Greetings, Citizens

2007-02-24T08:18:00.000-08:00

Well friends, this is a post where I am supposed to say Hi and tell you why the fuck I am writing something which in all probability noone is going to want to read; but all you really need to know at this stage is: "Welcome to my World!"