The Earth is Flat...

... or so you'd believe if you just came back from a trip to Kachchh.

One can't but miss the remnants of tragedy in the air. We've just landed in Bhuj. One of the most exquisitely built airports- in true Kachchhi style. Expecting to find ruins from a most devastating earthquake, we step out- my friends from ECS and me.

I'm surprised. There are no ruins that I see. The town is neat- at least in the areas we drive through. The road is very well made. The driver tells me that this is an area of NRIs.

Our destination is still over a 100 kms away. We drive through some hamlets for some time. Something unique about this place that we drive through, is that one gets this feeling that there was "something" years back where there is "nothing" now. This region has borne the brunt of many an earthquakes- some very severe.

As one drives into kachchh, one can't miss the desolation of the region. Na kuch hai, na koi hai. A couple of very small hamlets do appear along the highway. You do spot the odd coconut groves.

We drive further into Kachchh. We don't see any trees around. We see shrubs around. The area is so flat that you may actually believe that as far as you see is all that there is...on earth. We were also privileged to see a few drops of the rain of kachchh. It lasted about 20 seconds. I'm told, the area is very rain deprived.

We reach our destination soon. Its been about 2.5 hours since we left Bhuj. We stayed there for about a week. One of the hallmarks of my trips was a late evening trek in the ruins of an old fort. Was an experience of a lifetime, though in the conventional sense, there is nothing to see. Snakes are plenty in this region. You see a lot of mongoose too- some dead, a lot more alive. I've shown some of you the video I shot there.

Incidentally, the water supply, food and other stuff comes to this village/ township from another village about 60 kms away.

One of the evenings, we also visited a lonely beach, an hour away from the last street light. Having a hot cup of tea on a lonely rocky beach, enjoying the night sky and the very strong breeze is a feeling I cannot describe in words. As an icing on the cake, we visited the Pingleswar temple (near the sea shore) during the evening Aarti with the temple bell tongs in full masti. Elevating experience.

The couple of nights I can never forget there were when the night sky was crystal clear- black, specked with stars all over. Stars, twinkling stars everywhere in the sky.

On the way back, we stopped over for a couple of hours at Bhuj- enjoying a Gujarati thali and visiting the under construction Swami Narayan temple. Also visited the Kachchh museum, which I'm told is Gujarat's oldest. An entry fee of Rs. 2 is all it takes for you to view Kachchhi artifacts and Harappan seals. There are some medieval inscripted stones and rocks as well on the display.

I'm back in Gurgaon now. I have fond memories of this exotic location. For the record, I went there for work- on a project.

I've shared with some of you some of the goods and not-so-goods of a consultant's life. If adventure and travel drives you, this is a career you can think of, as an alternative to a stint with National Geographic.

This one is dedicated to my friend Osho...who was just another colleague until a few weeks back.

Himalayan Days

Driving along a hilly-mountainous road on a rainy day, you see a huge tree uprooted and lying flat across the road- a Tata Indica and its driver saved the wrath of the falling tree by a whisker- call it God’s grace, call it fate or rationalize it by saying he was able to apply the brakes at the right time.

A group of villagers take turns to use the only axe they possess to cut the tree into two and maybe, try and push it over the cliff. It rains harder, and the men try harder too- to cut the tree.

Expectedly, the traffic on both sides of the tree comes to a standstill. Expectedly, a large group of onlookers gather around the fallen tree.

One can see traces of sand and stones having rolled down the mountain. One can see a trail about 20 feet up the mountain. The climb up appears treacherous- a broken beer bottle lying on the ground where the climb begins. No proper places to keep your feet either- anywhere on the climb-path.

What better opportunity for a consultant to indulge in some adventure. More so, when the consultant is wearing his slippers- not even his shoes. Thanks to an equally adventurous boss, the consultant, with the help of the shoe-wearing boss try and attempt the climb the height and walk the trail.

On a routine day in a routine place, the climb would be routine. But this is neither a routine day nor a routine place. Believe me, the Himalayas, near the Indo-Tibet/ China border in Himachal can be treacherous when it is raining. (We actually saw a calf literally slipping off the cliff and falling into the deep valley below. Can never forget the sight of the helpless mother-cow running here and there- pleading to nobody in particular to rescue her kid).

We attempted the climb- my boss slipped and almost fell off a few times. I almost emulated his frequency of slipping.

Half way through, we realized, it “wasn’t worth the effort”. Prudence prevailed and we just about managed to come back safely.

The last 4-5 days have been different. We were in the Kinnaur district of Himachal as a part of a project. The village where we stayed lay right in the middle of a beautiful valley- the river Satluj with all its youthful might flowing right through the village. It is an interesting sight. The river is gushing in with all its fury. On its way it encounters rocks, striking them with great speed and forcefully slowing down in its advent towards God-knows-where; changing routes, dancing against the mightier rocks- jumping, twisting and twirling, dancing again and gracefully flowing along. And while it flows, water from different streams join in the river’s quest- some water, milky from the fresh snow that has melted and some, muddied by the rains.

The river absorbs all of this as it flows along.

Standing atop a bridge across the river, I think of the similarity of this river and its path, and the lives we live.

My visits to this bridge happened regularly through the days we stayed there. My regularly companion during these times was the moon, shyly gazing at me from behind the dark clouds.

There is something about the sound of water (river flow/ sound of waves/ rain drops) that has a soothing influence on one’s mind. At least I have felt this often.

I go back now, to “my regular world”- back in Gurgaon. The music of the river, its twists and twirls are still fresh in my mind. As I write this, the moon is still gazing at me. I can see its face now- it no longer is hiding behind the clouds.

To those of you who are making a trip to the mountains anywhere near the river- ensure that your windows are rolled down as you drive, else you may miss out on the music. Also, don’t miss the Dal served in these villages. Doesn’t taste better anywhere else.

Next week I’m likely to Rann off to Kucch. Diametrically opposite to the terrains I’ve just been to.

Watch this space for more.