The Table

Everything else about that day was just like any other day. But today, Old Lady was a little more restless. She even sat on that rocking chair for a while. That bloody, awful rocking chair that someone gifted her on her 77th birthday. All through the morning, she did everything with great anticipation. Her new tenant was arriving today. And though she’d felt fine living all by herself for all these years, more recently she had developed the need to have a little adventure. And even though her weak arms and legs were not supportive enough of that thought, she needed more thrill in her life than just visiting the market every day. So, she decided to rent her extra room, without forgetting to mention in her ‘for rent’ ad that the tenant was subject to free tea or coffee and chats, with zero interference in his or her life. It had worked, and here she was, with her first ever tenant just minutes away from arriving. 

She heard the sound of a movers’ truck pull over on the side of the street and she walked up to the window as fast as she could. The men had already begun to take out what seemed to be just a few boxes of clothes and other essentials, along with one or two other boxes of books and journals. ‘Hmm...so a fuss-free, mess-free tenant I’ve got. That’s a good start.’ Just as she completed her thought, she saw the men now take out a table and a chair. It was round and just big enough for 2 people to have a meal. And yet, it came with just a single chair. What surprised the Old Lady, however, was that she was sure she mentioned about the flat being fully-furnished. Why then had a young woman in her 20s felt the need to carry this particular piece of furniture? It seemed like an odd choice.

The doorbell finally rang and the Old Lady walked at a slightly faster pace, so that she could quickly open the door and welcome her new guest, whom she was so excited about.
She invited the girl in with as much vigour as she could gather, while the movers helped the girl carry her boxes and table and chair inside.

Old Lady decided she didn’t want to come across as nosy right away, and so decided to keep her curiosity about the table to herself for the time being. She showed the girl around the house and allowed her to settle in and rest in her room for a bit. She noticed the table kept in her room. It was wooden, with not so much of an exquisite craftsmanship. Another reason that she couldn’t fathom why such an ordinary piece of furniture was being carried around.
That night, Old Lady made dinner for two, after many, many years. She had some difficulty in adjusting the quantity and making sure that it would suffice the two of them.
The girl and the Old Lady sat down together and naturally, their conversation steered towards general topics like family, work and neighbourhood. Once that was over, a sudden silence befell the room, and yet it didn’t feel awkward. Not to Old Lady at least. And that was perhaps because she couldn’t stop wondering about the table and whether it was now alright for her to ask the girl about it. It was just gnawing at her for some reason, which made her feel like she was watching a mystery movie that refused to end.
Finally, without sounding too desperate, Old Lady asked the girl, “I see you’ve not brought too many belongings with you. Can you manage with just this much?”
The girl, quickly finishing her bite, was eager to reply, “Oh, um...I’m on the move a lot. So it’s just easier to have fewer belongings.”
The Old Lady felt amused at the irony of that, wondering how having a table in that mix was making it easier to be on the move. If anything, it must be adding more trouble. She couldn’t resist being very straightforward about it and simply asked, “What about the table? Is it something you carry with you everywhere?”
The girl smiled and said, “Oh, it’s more like a keepsake. It’s silly, I know.” 
The Old Lady was even more intrigued by this and said, “Oh, keepsake you say? I’m quite curious about that and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, my dear, but I have all the time in the world for a good story, if you don’t mind.”
The girl chuckled on hearing this and took a moment to gather her thoughts. After a brief pause, she began, “It’s my grandfather’s. Was, I mean. He died a few years ago and he left me that.” 
Surprised, the Old Lady asked, “He left you a table and a chair?”
The girl continued, “Yes! I know it’s strange. But as a kid, I used to visit my grandparents a lot at our house in the village. And on most days, I would find him sitting on that chair and using that table. But what really piqued my interest in it was the fact that he’d keep the chair moving. One day facing towards the window, another day facing towards the door.”

The Old Lady interjected with an ‘Oh!”, the perplexity in her voice quite evident.
The girl understood and exclaimed, “I know! It was a strange thing to do, but he was a strange man and it was very much on character for him to do strange things like these. I asked him many times why he’d do that. But he refused to answer, saying ‘I wouldn’t understand’.
“Then, when he died, I found out that he’d left a bunch of his belongings to all of us in the family. I was surprised to know that he’d left the table to me. I didn’t know what to do with it, but I brought it with me anyway. I know it’s quite ordinary looking. But I wanted to keep something of him with me.
“A few days after that though, I happened to slip my hand under the table while pulling it closer to the chair. And I felt something. So when I looked under the table, I found a note stuck to it, with my name written on the envelope, in his handwriting. So I opened it and read it.”

The Old Lady was so engrossed in this tale and was eager to know what the note said. So she asked the girl if she didn’t mind telling her.

“Oh yes, absolutely. It’s nothing too personal. It read - ‘I know you’ll wonder why I left you this table. So I’m going to answer your question about moving my chair and I hope you’ll know the reason why it’s meant to be with you. If I have to guess, I’d say you’re expecting something complex. Well, in that case, I’m going to have to apologize in advance. But that’s because the reason is incredibly simple. It’s a ROUND table! And you know what’s the one thing that round tables don’t have? The edges! Which means that it’s never going to restrict you to stay within either of the corners. Go crazy! Sit anywhere! It’s all the same. So, what I want you to know is that, treat the world like I treated this table. Go around, see the world from every angle. Move your chair. But never keep yourself restricted within those edges. Never. It’s just as simple as that!”

The girl had a little tear in the corner of her eye as she said, “You know, my grandfather and I would always have very short, fleeting conversations. This letter, it’s the longest conversation I’ve had with him. Or more like the longest conversation he’s had with me.”

The Old Lady and the girl finished the rest of their dinner in utter, but comforting silence. And then each headed to their own rooms.

The next day, Old Lady went into the girl’s room to give her tea. The girl wasn’t around. Maybe she’d gone for a walk or maybe she was just taking a bath. The Old Lady thought it best to come in later. 
Before she shut the door behind her, she noticed that the chair was in a different position than yesterday’s. But this time she didn’t have to wonder. She knew. 

To Tea, with love.

OCD - Obsession of Chai Disorder.
No wait, I don't want to call it a disorder. And I don't know what it is if not a disorder. But whatever it may be, I appreciate that it makes me love my cup of tea more and more everyday. Well so much that I, in fact, just realized that I have this weird hobby (if I can call it that) of tasting chai at every place I travel to. And this Instagram story of mine from a few months ago is proof.

And what this 30ml potion did to me after a 5 hour-long extremely bumpy ride is inexplicable. But I think you can understand only if you fall in the same league of tea obsession as I do. And this is why I say that having tea at every place I travel to is my hobby and also, necessity.
And I know that this does not even explain a quarter of my eternal love for tea. But if I do have to get into more details, maybe I could write a thesis about it. 'Effects of Tea on the Human mind: A research paper constructed from personal experiences' - How's that for a working title?
And here's what the contents of the thesis would look like:
a) Introduction to cutting chai - the red bull substitute for most Indians.
b) Personal experiences with tea - the one brewed at home vs. the one enjoyed best at chai tapri.
c) Personal experiences with tea II - tasting tea across India.
Okay I can't continue without elaborating on point c. There's so much to talk about it. I don't even know where to start. So I think let me use this picture from my Instagram as a trigger.

I was as much excited to visit this tea garden in Sikkim as I was about tasting tea here. And well the garden was definitely a pleasing sight. But the brewed tea - let's just say it didn't live up to the imaginary standards I had about chai from a tea garden. I was disappointed, but my love for tea never ceased. Because the next best experience I had during this trip was of this enthralling cup of tea by the Guwahati - Shillong Highway in a shady restaurant. I don't remember what I ate, but the taste of that amazing beverage lingers even today. But I think, it led me to more disappointment. Because the red tea that I had throughout Meghalaya wasn't much of a delight. But who knew my forthcoming travels were going to be accessorized by those little moments of joy that came from tasting different types and varieties of tea.
I can never forget the warmth that small cup of hot Kahwa gave me while I sipped it amidst a snow-covered Khardung-La in Ladakh. Or that addictive taste of butter tea which I gulped down cup after cup, for a 100 times in a day, with lunch, dinner and what not, again in Ladakh. Or the sachharine tea in Nagpur which I hated. or the joy that sipping butter tea again in Goa at a Tibetan restaurant gave me. Or those countless times I revisited my college and never left without having a cutting chai which tasted the same throughout all these years. Or the chai that refreshes me during my work hours. Or my most important morning ritual - adrak vaali chai.
And now, if you've reached until here, then congratulations! Because 1 - You've read my thesis about tea. And 2 - because there is a possibility that you belong to the same tribe of chai-loving humans as I do.
La Fin.
End challenge: Count the number of times the word 'tea' or 'chai' appears in this post. 

Desert Valley - Part 2

Is it possible to be reminded of something that you've never really forgotten? Well, of course it's something that's at the back of your mind. But suddenly it takes the centre stage and the memories come gushing to you. It's like you're living in the past. Something like time-traveling. Time-traveling back to a trip where you were in your happy place and, even today, in this chaos of the city, you seek for the same happiness, and you're hit by the thought that you will not find it here.
My blog about Ladakh (the first part) resurfaced as a Facebook memory from about 2 years ago. And it teleported me back to those sunny, wintery days in the desert valley. How I missed hitting those dusty, rugged roads of Ladakh that took me to the pieces of paradise on earth! Traveling across the region with locals that were now familiar, whom we lived with as a family for almost a week in Ladakh, well that was what I call a truly exhilarating experience!
It was as though every time the road took a turn, it had something different to offer. So many roads were jeweled with rivers flowing by the side, sparkling under the sun and occasionally passing under a small bridge decorated with colourful prayer flags that fluttered because of the cold wind. From the window, distant barren mountains were seen covered with snow at the top. At times we passed grasslands where we spotted some animals - families of deers and marmots peacefully grazing and basking in the warmth of the sun. 

Traveling across the region meant crossing deep valleys through ghats with hairpin bends, you almost felt like you could feel sick and puke at any moment but halting at intervals for some butter tea was always the solution.  I still remember reaching Khardung-La and sipping on some hot Kahwa amidst the snow-covered road. All in white and grey and only prayer flags adding colour to the scenery. What a pleasant sight it was! Despite the mountain sickness you feel at such a height, you don't complain. Because you know that you're experiencing something so pure, something that you will never be blessed with back in your city. So you just sit there ignoring the head ache and continue sipping your Kahwa while you stare blankly at the incredible view and just be. Nothing more. Nothing less. You just be.

And that's what the mountains do to you. They hypnotise you to the extent that you know you have to go back to them. You don't know for what. You just have to. It's like making an unsaid promise to the mountains. I will be back to see you. And yet again, you can enthrall me with your beauty, charm and majesty. And I will never stop loving you, my dear mountains.

The Desert Valley- Ladakh Part 1

           It’s one of those days when I’m simply in a cranky mood because of all the noise and pollution around me. Also because I don’t know when is it next that I will be visiting a place as heavenly as Ladakh. It’s been exactly one month I’ve returned from that place. I do not precisely remember the chronology of all the events that took place in the 10 days that we were there. I would have turned to an itinerary to recollect which places we had visited and when, But we never had one. But we did not have an absolutely unplanned trip either. What we did have when we left from here was a local person’s contact number who would be driving us around the place for the 10 days and a hotel booking for the first 4 days in Leh, just so that we wouldn’t be roofless when we reached the place.

         I’m still struggling to summon up the exact things we did in Ladakh. So I thought the least I can do is sit with a cup of Kashmiri Kahwa tea that we bought from there (which tastes nothing like the one I had at Chang-La Pass; something probably went wrong in its preparation), hoping it would remind me at least of the freezing temperatures there. But that seems next to impossible. The October heat here will not allow me to do that. In another effort, I scroll through the 150-odd pictures clicked on my camera. That helps me remember that the day we reached, we’d only rested in our rooms for a while for “acclimatization” (as instructed on every website where we hoped we would find an itinerary) and later walked up to the market to have dinner. The memory of having lunch seems blurry though. The second day we probably visited the Hemis monastery, the Stok palace and the Shanti Stupa. The third day was the day for river rafting at Zanskar. The fourth day we left for Pangong, stayed overnight and returned the next morning in Leh. The sixth day we left for Nubra Valley, stayed overnight and returned the next morning. The eighth day we left for Tso-Moriri Lake, stayed overnight and returned the next morning. The tenth day was time for departure.

         That’s quite bland for a vibrant place like the Desert valley we’ve all wished to visit at some point of time. I have realized that listing the places we visited is certainly not the best idea. It wouldn’t be justice enough for describing a place like Ladakh; it’s rather the place that will make you fall short of words to describe its beauty. It’s the place which looks the same, no matter how far you go, what height you’re at or how many turns you’ve taken at the roads guarded by mountains on either of the sides. It’s a place which will make you feel that even a new sight is the same, mundane one. And yet, it’s a place which will hypnotise you into being awed by the beauty of the ordinary; it will make you greedy, for you will want to fill your eyesight with the same old landscape.  

       

So while this is certainly not the end of the account of Ladakh, I will certainly take time to gather words to explain the experiences, and not just the scenery. 

Goa: part 2

I think we managed to surprise a lot of people- friends, acquaintances, and other people who showed general interest in our Goa trip- when we told them that we wouldn’t be having alcohol at all. I don’t understand why Goa is synonymous with alcohol. I say this after having been there, because I realized Goa is so much more than just alcohol, because seriously that’s not the only liquid available there; there’s sea water too, you know! (Which is obviously not edible, but it helps you drown all your emotions in it, just try staring at the endless stretch of oscillating water, could be a great alternative to liquor). Because that’s what I’ve associated Goa with- Beaches and sea! But wait, there’s more too- for Eg: restaurants that are shut during lunch time. I’m not joking. That was the first thing we encountered when we actually got out of our rooms and because we had reached around lunch time, we decided to have lunch first and then walk towards the nearest beach- Anjuna. Little did we know that we would be having lunch that afternoon at the beach itself! We kept walking past closed restaurants only to find ourselves at a “cafe” which overlooked the sea. “Cafe Liliput” the sign board read, an arrow pointing towards the right which we followed and entered into the gate from where the sea was visible, the sound of which was heard from a distance already. It looked like the perfect place to have lunch, and it was! For all the time we were there, I couldn’t make my mind as to whether I should be devouring the amazing food or the mesmerizing sight of the sea that seemed to have changed its colour to a darker shade of blue at a distance from the shore. That moment, I knew why they say that everything happens for a reason (often good); Now when I look back, I feel good about the fact that all of the nearby restaurants were shut, which is what made us walk up to the cafe at the beach, though the walk was terrible because of the heat and our hungry stomachs; which also led to another good thing- a realization that we HAD to rent scooters as soon as possible, for the sake of convenience! And good for us, there was a bike rental right next to the hostel we were staying in. We got for ourselves two scooters, and decided that we’d be travelling around the nearby areas on them: double seat on one and triple seat on the other!
   Also, if you’re wondering whether the word “hostel” written in the previous sentence was a typo, instead of which I should’ve written “hotel”, you’re wrong! Hostels, dormitories is not something that everyone opts for when on a vacation, it’s something some people opt for when they wish to save money- a LOT of money. I feel no shame in revealing the fact that my Goa trip was so cheap that if I plan for another cheap trip, I can execute it in approximately the same amount that I needed for Goa. And this is the biggest advantage of planning inexpensive trips- because you save a lot of money on one outing; it allows you to travel more. This, of course, is for the travel junkies. This is one major reason I would encourage travelling cheap; and why not, you don’t have to compromise on comfort, safety or anything that you would get in a pricey hotel (except for a feeling of luxury, which is not really needed  as long as you are granted enough comfort).
   So after a lot of hunting on the internet we came across this one particular Roadhouse hostel in Anjuna, of which the basic details available on the website pleased us enough to make further enquiries and shortly after, we fixed our stay at this hostel and I do not regret one bit- we got everything that we were looking for: A six bed air-conditioned dormitory and free Wi-Fi and good ambience. In fact, I feel glad that we opted for a dormitory because that way all of us could be together.
   So according to the plan, the first two days we visited the vagator beach, Baga beach and fort Aguada. The beaches were good, no doubt; Aguada was the best (for me). But more than all these places, the real fun lied in the journey: the way we kept looking and asking for directions, the way we stopped every time we saw the traffic police because, well, triple seat was not allowed; hence every time we came across the police, we stopped, both my friends on the other scooter got off, walked past the police as we waited ahead, got back on the scooter and continued. We did this every single time. And yes, the most unforgettable part being how lonesome the narrow streets, without any streetlight, became even at seven or eight in the evening that we feared losing our way back to the hostel; And once we were close to losing our way when we happened to take a single wrong turn and after roaming a lot, we happened to reach the same place. Thankfully we were in the vicinity of our hostel and from a distance we could see the “Cafe Liliput” light- the guiding light. Losing your way is fun sometimes! So that’s how we travelled to the nearby places. The fourth and the fifth day we visited the Calangute and the Candolim beach (Candolim beach was the cleanest and the least crowded of all of them), and the Mapusa market.
However, the third day we had planned to visit Old Goa and hence we had to hire a car. After having visited the Temples and Churches, we were left with Dona Paula beach, and I had the best time there because of the weather- it had started raining and there’s nothing like a combination of rain and sea.
    Time and again, I have come across experiences that have led me to believe that local people are the best part of a place. The driver, Harish, was a friendly person whose mannerisms made us believe that he had taken the responsibility of making sure that we had fun and that we reached back to our hostel safely. But we were glad that was not the last time we’d be dropped back safely. The last day, we hired the same car to reach Thivim station, from where we were to board our train to Mumbai. And Harish, who was accompanied by the shop owner from where we had hired the car, had come to drop us at the station. When we reached the station, they told us to let them know that we had reached home and we saw them waving at us as we walked away until we were out of their sight.
   Goa had welcomed us on a good note and Goa had bid adieu to us on an equally good note; which is why it will always be etched as good memory in my mind. I have bought souvenirs from Goa, but nothing can match up to that one souvenir that I call the experience.

Goa- Part 1

I have never been as much enchanted by the sea as I have been by the mountains. Hence, I never looked at Goa as a place that could gratify my wanderlust. But Goa as a vacation spot with friends is, no doubt, a very thrilling idea. Blame it on a few Bollywood movies we’ve been watching while growing up, which for once were entertaining and had good content too! They’ve kind of imbibed the idea within every person who’s grown up watching them that Goa is the ultimate hip destination, and hence so perfect for a vacation with friends. So as with everyone else who belongs to our generation, we’ve been victims of this trend too and hence my group of friends had been planning a vacation to Goa, apparently since four-five years; that is since the time I wasn’t even a part of this group. And when I did happen to become friends with them, eventually they asked me if I would join too and obviously I said yes, because well, it’s a sin to say No to vacations, travelling, adventures or anything alike. The trip was planned and we were set to leave when our final, very last exams of the graduation course had ended. It was as though we wanted to complete our graduation not for the sake of a degree but because we knew that once it was over, there lied a marvellous time ahead- a time of beaches, of drives along a road that overlooked the sea; but most importantly a time of being with friends only and a time of making memories that would last a lifetime. Be it just for a short span of Five days, but we were looking forward to the time we could be carefree before we returned and began with a much more responsible life by virtue of being a graduate.
        The trip was planned, our tickets and stay were booked, our bags packed, and us waiting with our luggage at the railway station an hour prior to the train arrival. The train arrived; we looked for our seats and had made ourselves comfortable by the time the train left. And yes we also posted on Facebook that we were leaving for Goa- because, mandatory! Formality completed! To add to it the Indian Railways made sure we had a good beginning to our trip by upgrading our bookings from three tier AC to two tier. The next morning we woke up to an expected news- that the train was late by about an hour; but it didn’t bother us; why would it- we had ample amount of craziness within us that would help kill time and we did not realize when we decided to disturb the rest of the passengers by singing songs- a typical part of every journey without which the journey is incomplete. We continued our indulgence in such time-killing activities and it yielded success because in no time we realized that our destination was just about 15-20 minutes away and we were all geared up to greet Goa at long last. We set our foot at the platform of Thivim station, where a rainy, misty climate welcomed us. We were in Goa in the first week of June- a time when monsoon had already made its presence felt and I couldn’t wait more for a gripping experience of Goa during off-season.

Where's the Real World?

Just two days. I was off Facebook for just two days. The next day, though, when I checked Facebook, my “news” feed was almost filled with just one single post. Every alternate post that I saw was just about this one video. Now that I have mentioned a “video”, I’m sure you can already guess which video I’m talking about. But if you haven’t, here’s the answer- I’m talking about Deepika Padukone’s video called “My Choice”.

Well, I do not intend to give any more attention to the video by expressing my views and opinions about it and the issue that the video deals with. It has already received enough unnecessary attention from people. Here, I just want to ask a few questions, to all the “feminists”, “misogynists” and the “equalitarian” people out there on Facebook, Whatsapp, Twitter, Instagram, and what not! And every time I came across the video, these questions just kept coming in my mind:

    Why does some Deepika Padukone need to tell you what feminism is or what women empowerment is? Or why does she need to remind you that depression is an illness? Didn’t we already know that?

   Why do these videos bother people so much that just within two to three days of this video going "viral", there’s another response video going equally "viral"? Do these videos really deserve the kind of attention that they’ve been attracting?

    Why is it necessary for almost everyone to share these videos with a caption which is like a “pick-up” line from the video itself followed by a few hash tags?

    Do people really believe that sharing these videos is actually going to make this “world” a better place?

    Do people believe that the “world” is on the Internet?

    To all those people who believe so, just a reminder: THE WORLD IS NOT ON THE INTERNET!

There is a world beyond the internet. And only when we’ll be willing to explore this world beyond the internet, we’ll be able to decide whether the “real” world is a much better place to live in or not. Only then will we realize that the “real” problems, that this world beyond the internet is facing, are not just women empowerment and a need for gender equality, but something much bigger than these.

And we, being the “educated” people should be willing to take the responsibility of helping the “real” world face their problems. If only we’re willing to take some time off the internet and contribute in the least possible way to make this “real” world a really good place to live in, because certainly, just sharing a few videos and hitting the like button may only change the virtual world that we’re living in.

 Well, that only keeps me wondering whether the internet and the technology IS doing us any good or not? Or maybe, the technology is not to be blamed! It’s probably just us who’re unable to handle the big responsibility that the social media is! But we need to know our limits; we need to mark a boundary. We need to make a wiser use of the social media. Let the internet not manipulate us. Let it be the other way round.