amarnathpallathsblog

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[amarnathpallathsblog]

Switzerland

Travelogue - Leaf - 36

Last weekend, I observed an extremely natural object matching the landscape. Around that was a dry leaf and green grass. Look at the photo - a well designed creation of a butterfly in camouflage. Observations differ from seeing.

About 12 years ago, I observed an American lady, with her pet dog in the snowy Alps of Switzerland. As we were enjoying the snow clad mountains, taking every breath as special I observed that lady once again. Her dog pooped on the snow. In a minute she opened up her bag, took out a shovel and a container, scooped it away into her bag. The lady remains in thoughts and her interest in environment. We keep observing, learning in our journey.

As you age we learn about spending rather than saving, acquiring materials to enjoying experiences, from routines to unknown paths, back packing to travel places.

Plus 50 degree celsius temperature was what I enjoyed over 16 years living in desert lands. What a contrast on top of Alps? When you are into these extremes we appreciate, our bodies are conditioned to adapt and camouflaged to accept surroundings. Life after all, is an adjustment.

Like the difference between seeing and observing, between listening and hearing there is a theatre of difference. In the group we travelled together to Switzerland, there were people from world but Indians. Group travel enhances listening skills. Few days together, we celebrated birthdays and wedding anniversaries. We listened. Travel is an opportunity to observe, listen, adapt, understand life. One feels what went by was less significant in terms of the new found joy.

The tour took us to the fourth smallest country in Europe Liechtenstein. The area is 160 square Km and statistics says about 38000 people stay there. Meant a population density of about 235 per Sq. km. We got our passports stamped with the country seal as a souvenir.

Insignificant though, few things in our lives appears significant. If we apply this in our observations, life is a set of significant matters. If we track life, footprints we left behind are our memories. In dreams we make blue prints in plan, but blue prints and foot prints hardly concur.

We walk our journeys through the valleys of reality, enjoying the peaks like Alps. "Ideals are like stars, we never reach them; but like mariners of sea we can chart our course by them"

[amarnathpallathsblog]

A trip through Forts of India

Travelogue - Leaf - 35

We sat with hands full of froth that froze mist in the air from the sea shore to form dew drops. Our beer glasses left a trail of thoughts. We, friends over half a century, celebrated the change of calendar to 2020, at the Payyambalam beach, Kannur.

I listened to the waves reaching closer with a roar, leaving a pause to reflect.

New year has more to do with bridges we can build rather than the forts in isolation. This travelogue is about forts, that has only historic value.

Forts were built in India between 16th to 19th centuries. They were to fortress the strength and wealth of those who built. Palakkad fort had water passages with crocodiles to trap those who intrude.

We build forts called 'internal formations' within our minds. 'Intruders' are perceptions from sensory signals. These form negative emotions. We tend to react violently. Like what the crocodiles in the forts was supposed to do. In our mental territories we preserve negative thoughts as memories. Like the fort, we build defense mechanisms. We loose peace.

I have been to 1. Diu Fort built by Dutch; 2. St. George fort British in Chennai; 3. Galley (Sri Lanka) Dutch fort, 4. Golkonda Fort in Hyderabad, 5. Lal Khila in Delhi; 6. Kolkotha Fort, 7. Tipus fort at Devanahalli, Bengaluru; 8. Sagiriya Mountain Fort in Sri Lanka, 9. Gingee Fort in Pondy, 10. Portuguese Fort in Goa, 11. Worli Fort in Mumbai, 12. Fort in Trichy 13. fort near Allahabad 14. Humpy fort etc. across a period of time. Concepts of 'internal forts' are disturbing.

The very idea of observation of our feelings and fears may become less intense if the forts we build are made of love, cemented with smiles.

Just look at the architecture of forts that have buttresses. A mind addicted to acquiring, gets conditioned to retain power. Rebuilding 'Forts of Love' with bridges, pathways, steps in our relationships in fact make us reconnect. The three families of friendships over half a century rebuilt fondness on New Year eve.

As I walked within the walls of forts, I found bridges and steps. No wonder Isaac Newton said "We build too many walls and not enough bridges'.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

KRABI, Thailand

Travelogue - Leaf - 34)

It is easier to believe there was nothing before. Tough to believe something was there before. This dilemma, was cleared near Borra Caves, Visakhapatnam as we walked underneath the formation of caves. Gosthani river passes through this terrain. As river passes through the formation of rocks that contain limestones, water erodes mountains over a period of millions of years. Tough to believe.

As we had been to Thailand before, tour operator suggested to visit Krabi, for celebration of our 35th wedding anniversary (years ago). That was worth a place to be in quite solitude, and an island surrounded by many islands. After a typical Thai dinner we lighted a paper sky lantern and released the strings ... watched the 'light' fly high and vanish into skies. Years pass by into oblivion.

Thirty five years of living together and we passed through ups and downs. Like we did snorkeling under sea, and went high up on Viking caves in Phi Phi Islands. The formation of this cave is similar to Borra Caves or the Batu caves in Malayasia. A study in perspective...

In the Viking caves, I noticed a natural growth of a plant within the cave on the rocks. The photos shows that belief is real. A water drop fell on my head and I moved a bit to watch. In order for the seed to germinate it needed sand. There was a bit collected as dust. It needed air, was there. It needed moisture and the tiny drop that fell on my head, in fact was from the top of that mountain. Water passed through crevices slowly by the determined flow of tiny globules of moisture that condensed as droplets. The seed, thus germinated and showed life. Believe me, there is something beyond our belief systems.

The teacher called nature, silently provide lessons. Anything is possible. We need to believe in us.

The travel left our footprints on the white beach sands close to blue seas, that uphold mountains. Speed boats took us between the edges and gaps of colourful mountains. We took tuk-tuk auto-riksha as we went out late evenings to enjoy night life and dinners.

Sea, sea food and sea sport kept our nerves engaged. The swimming pool and drinks that floated kept our minds cool.

Disbelief kills us and inhibit human capabilities. Taking risks, rips open belief systems to possibilities. We tend to overthink and then 'order becomes chaos'. Let loose and float like those lanterns seeking skies...with own lights.

Remember the seed, that sprouted. It is possible. Why disbelieve and withdraw? To move on and on, just think our believes are based on intuitive intelligences. Trust them.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Bali

Travelogue - Leaf - 31

Columbus when he set sail from Spain in 1492; he had conviction that the world is not flat though majority believed it was. After 527 years we are able to understand the meaning conveyed in the book of Thomas Friedman the "World is Flat". We have shrunk in the globe.

As we go places, I find we live in a Flat world. Henosis, is a concept of Greek mysticism that talks about 'oneness'.

In Bali we spent a good time exploring the simple ways people live, eat, set their goals, the serene atmosphere and their culture. Set in a relaxed ambience, we were unable to push our accelerators and stillness influenced our heart beats. We became one with Bali culture.

The runway to Bali is extended into the sea at Denpasar Airport. The beaches, musicians around, the Balenese recipe with a variety in colors and textures was pleasing. The colorful costumes in dance, temple rituals, the entire attitude of those whom we met were simple and special.

After a tasty meal, we sat in front of Mount Agung the volcano and realised peace. Thoughts put me on a test. On one side the fear of eruption and on the other, desire for comforts. My view about life sharpened when we sat near volcano, oscillating between fear and desire.

Though we flew out of Bali in 2003, reflections from that trip keeps my mind wander in an attempt to change my attitude.

I sat today and thought about COMFORT that we often seek in physical form and the HAPPINESS quotient. These are two different things. Comfort is about a relaxed mind; happiness is derived from within us.

A pause, a stopover, a deviation, a serene atmosphere ignites to search happiness within.

I remember, long ago someone asked me what my aim was? I answered - to find meaning of happiness. Today I tend to WEAR Happiness and think Drew Barrymore is right - "Happiness is the best makeup".

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Sri Lanka - Galle Road

Travelogue - Leaf - 30

Of all the curio collections of tortoises from travel, that my wife has in her collection, the one in center (also in a separate picture) is interesting. This one is from Vietnam where my daughter and family visited in 2019.

Tortoises remind us of the old story of the race between the hare. It is in the Aesop's fables. The story talks about unequal partners, in conflicting concepts. In mathematical terms, this has been applied as Zeno's Paradox.

Tortoises have been probably the oldest animal species dating back to 280 million years. We visited a tortoise hatchery in Sri Lanka. The place is Kosgoda Sea Turtle conservation project on Galle Road. Our tour guide Rushan Casseiere was so knowledgeable and helpful throughout. The efforts by the project is to return the grown up tortoises back into their natural habitat - the sea. They are so lovable, colourful species that balances our eco system. While going to sea, they use their natural GPS systems with enjoyment.

Human beings lack what tortoises exhibit. It is called True North. Believe me, the gift of my daughter to her mom has a magnet within and a direction finder to align magnetic or grid North. This put me to think about the direction a human being gets lost. Reference is about our Mental Compass. It is the internal compass that guides you successfully through life. It is a representation of the person you are at the deepest level. Your personal orientation in this fast changing world. The True North is the direction one chose, to identify the way forward in life's journey. This varies from the Magnetic North where the flocking mass choose to find easy paths. Unless the degree between the two is ascertained, the speeds at which we travel may lead us to wrong destinations. As a child I was told a story by my grandmother. The story relates to a 'wise' person who wanted speedier arrival at his destination and chose to run within the train.

We miss at times. We plan out everything. We carry our luggages and hopes. We plan to arrive in heaven, but find that the direction we chose was wrong. That's the True North the tortoises and migrating birds use in their journeys. Winners use their Internal Compass, others are 'hares' as in the fable of race between tortoise.

The way probably is to inquire the "YOU in you" by deep introspection and narrate your story so far. Anchor at that point, tilt and observe your Mental Compass to identify YOUR True North and move on to success. Be the one who wins the race.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Kozhikode, India

Travelogue - Leaf - 29

A term in Malayalam says the lavender growing in own courtyard has no smell. It appears so?

Recently we went through some by-lanes, close to our home. It was like the lavender in own garden. Never knew.

Belief is the second side of the coin. The other side is trust. To trust from a zillion choices of beliefs, is not easy.

This leaf of travelogue is about a journey into unknown in Kozhikode and reflects the lives being lived in those lanes.

Death is intrinsic to life. Life has no meaning without death. Recently Nalini, my wife's mother passed away. There was reason to search for what an end means.

The family chose to avoid functions that goes around death. Instead chose to be with those who anticipate death and those who want to see through life.

The "Poor Home" was founded in 1939. We met one who has no left eye, cannot speak or hear. His smile attracts life. He asked about my wellbeing. A grey haired lady of +80's lives with others. Her face reflects her story, though colour on her face is painted with silence. Nearly 30 of them define lives of 'poor' without differentiation of religion, family or beliefs. As we had lunch with them, they appeared to be thanking us. Life has different shapes and boundaries and thoughts are packed in shells. All these ideas crumble as death proclaims the end. The 'poor' home sounded the 'cry' of a new born, the laughter in happiness and the next moment phenomenon of silence in death.

That evening we shared time with children of age below five to eighteen, whose parents are unknown to them. Most of them arrive there through 'Child Help Line'. Their current home has framed photos of some of the successful people. Steve Jobs, born to unmarried college students and was given up for adoption. President Abdul Kalam who sold news papers as a boy but wrote "Wings of Fire". We engaged in conversation and I played a mimicry artist. For me it was like magic, the magic touch between 'one to the other'. Some of them have their dreams. Dreams that make them fly from their dwelling place titled "Free Birds". These kids can create success with the magic of human touch. They thrive on hopes.

One of the beliefs of Nalini Karunakar was to go to the 'Poor Home'. Her family trusted that her wish be fulfilled, in spite of her absence.

Death resurrects to showcase 'life and death are two sides of the same coin'. We went through bi-lanes, where ends were unknown. And none knows where it leads us to.

It may be to differentiate between 'being happy' and to 'feel others' happiness'. Truth at times is hidden under face-masks.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

French - Mahe ( India )

Travelogue - Leaf - 28

Dasan, the protagonist was involved in the freedom struggle and even removes French flag and hoists Indian flag in Mahe. That was his mission and in that process his love affair with Chandri could not end in wedlock. Chandri commits suicide and Dasan follows. As per the story of the magnum opus novel of M Mukundan "Mayyazhipuzhayude Theerangalil" translated both in English and French, the two becomes Dragon Flies (thumbi) and wander around the place where Mahe river meets the Arabian Sea.

We met M Mukundan recently at Villa De - 1945 on Buluward Road, Mahe accompanied with Sajith Narayanan and N Krishnan. We enjoyed an exemplary literary discussion over a cup of chai.

Though Mahe was released from the French occupation in the year 1954 along with Pondicherry, Yanam (in AP) and Karikal (in TN) it was in 1962 when French Government ratified the treaty that it became a UT. Some names of roads, the feelings and culture in this just about 9 square kilometers of area still breathes aroma of French cakes, perfumes and wines. As we walked on the pathway on the banks of Mahe river that merges with the sea, a dreamy, creamy, sweet and sour mix passed through the nerve bundles that excited emotions and for one to enjoy it, he/she need to really walk through. We were at Mahe church, built in 1736, that is historically famous and has links to St. Theresa of Avila in Spain.

The Dragon Fly enclosed in my photo-feature was clicked from the not-so-far-away Mridangasaileswary Temple. This temple is ages old and has stories in history. One need to explore. Pazhassi Raja who fought the British and gave his life used to pray at this temple before he embarked on war with the British. Known as 'Lion of Kerala" Pazhassi Raja gave tough times to Lord Wellesley, who had defeated Napolean.

Dragon flies are colourful creatures. Dragon flies symbolises change, transformation and self realisation in a purpose to define meaning of lives. If you watch this fly it is as free as free spirit. Reason to this, probably is due to an extended larval stage where it changes and ultimately emerges as one with colorful wings. The wings refract the colours like the rainbow. The symbolic nature of fly is like an illusion, like you and me; where I and you want others to see us the way you and I see us, the individuals. If dragon fly can, transform - we CAN. We need to...

The art work about the Novel of M Mukundan including dragon flies are depicted on the wall as you walk on the pathway. Along with friends, we spent a beautiful evening at the estuary where river sweet water surrenders and merges with salty sea water - their "union of love". We in this group formed its linkages in late eighties and still wander together as a flock of birds.

What we occasionally discuss and debate are what N Krishnan summed up - Our Bond Factors BINDS, in spite of BENDS in respective journeys.

... "It is not what you ARE that holds you back; it is who you think you ARE NOT". .. . Change, transform -> like dragon flies.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Itali

Travelogue - Leaf - 27

A travel, the thought behid a travel, in today's world is so varied. Adventure Tourism, Spiritual tourism, health tourism, Cutural tourism and so on.

About few days ago in a Malayalam paper, I read about a travel in a way different. A travel with a purpose of enquiry. Navya Sophia Dorigati, daughter of Silvana and Thesiana Dorigati lives in Itali, married. Ms. Dorigati started enquiring why she did not have the skin color of her parents at the young age of 9. Her parents narrated the episode that she was in an orphanage till the age of two, in Calicut, Kerala and she was adopted by Dorigati's.

Nine months ago, Navya Dorigati came to Kerala looking up for her mother but was in vain. Her enquiry continued on Social Media. One from Kerala helped Navya to spot her mother. Thirty five years ago, her mother left her in an orphanage and got married and bore two children. When Navya finally spoke to her mom, she appeared to have told - "I will not by any way harm you or your current relationships; because whatever Dorigati is today are due to her mother". Enduring RELATIONSHIPs.

This was the reason for Dorigati's visit from Itali to Calicut. My travel with my wife, from Kerala to Itali in the year 2007 was different. While at work, I travelled for work to Europe. With family we made it to places, but a trip to Itali was part of a promise to my wife that on retitement we go to Europe and we made it before.

Itali is a store house of history. A place of fashion designers. My wife, a fashion designer herself, was fascinated to go around the city of fashion. Itali is a place where the trendy ethnic architecture stand testimony of the happenings.

The colosseum built in the year 70-73 CE by Emperor Vespasion is an amphitheater where 80000 Romans could sit and watch killing of animals and people in the games of gladiators. They called it the 'funeral games' to honour the Pegan Gods, held by wealthy Roman Aristocrats to 'avert Italy from disaster'. This sport was one of 'blood and death' for the fancy of the rulers. Brutality was deiberate. Over 390 years when the amphitheater witnessed these games, over 400,000 people died and more than 10 lakh animals. Thirst for the gladiatorial games in Colosseums and the walls remain as a mute witness. Life!

Human mind is one that changes and transforms in thought forms. Our travel together in a group of Indians from India and abroad was by itself a different trip of inquiry. Our guide even organised a birthday cake cutting ceremony. We understood individuals a bit better before we parted. Lessons!

In the journey of our lives, destinations take a back seat. More important is to understand the 'being' behind; the human being. If we understand yet another human being, somewhere, someplace, sometime - travel means much more.

Travelling turns you a Story Teller, because it is such trips that give shapes and meanings to our innerspace. Walk, Wander and Wonder.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Itali

Travelogue - Leaf - 27

A travel, the thought behid a travel, in today's world is so varied. Adventure Tourism, Spiritual tourism, health tourism, Cutural tourism and so on.

About few days ago in a Malayalam paper, I read about a travel in a way different. A travel with a purpose of enquiry. Navya Sophia Dorigati, daughter of Silvana and Thesiana Dorigati lives in Itali, married. Ms. Dorigati started enquiring why she did not have the skin color of her parents at the young age of 9. Her parents narrated the episode that she was in an orphanage till the age of two, in Calicut, Kerala and she was adopted by Dorigati's.

Nine months ago, Navya Dorigati came to Kerala looking up for her mother but was in vain. Her enquiry continued on Social Media. One from Kerala helped Navya to spot her mother. Thirty five years ago, her mother left her in an orphanage and got married and bore two children. When Navya finally spoke to her mom, she appeared to have told - "I will not by any way harm you or your current relationships; because whatever Dorigati is today are due to her mother". Enduring RELATIONSHIPs.

This was the reason for Dorigati's visit from Itali to Calicut. My travel with my wife, from Kerala to Itali in the year 2007 was different. While at work, I travelled for work to Europe. With family we made it to places, but a trip to Itali was part of a promise to my wife that on retitement we go to Europe and we made it before.

Itali is a store house of history. A place of fashion designers. My wife, a fashion designer herself, was fascinated to go around the city of fashion. Itali is a place where the trendy ethnic architecture stand testimony of the happenings.

The colosseum built in the year 70-73 CE by Emperor Vespasion is an amphitheater where 80000 Romans could sit and watch killing of animals and people in the games of gladiators. They called it the 'funeral games' to honour the Pegan Gods, held by wealthy Roman Aristocrats to 'avert Italy from disaster'. This sport was one of 'blood and death' for the fancy of the rulers. Brutality was deiberate. Over 390 years when the amphitheater witnessed these games, over 400,000 people died and more than 10 lakh animals. Thirst for the gladiatorial games in Colosseums and the walls remain as a mute witness. Life!

Human mind is one that changes and transforms in thought forms. Our travel together in a group of Indians from India and abroad was by itself a different trip of inquiry. Our guide even organised a birthday cake cutting ceremony. We understood individuals a bit better before we parted. Lessons!

In the journey of our lives, destinations take a back seat. More important is to understand the 'being' behind; the human being. If we understand yet another human being, somewhere, someplace, sometime - travel means much more.

Travelling turns you a Story Teller, because it is such trips that give shapes and meanings to our innerspace. Walk, Wander and Wonder.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Ramnagara Karnataka

Travelogue - Leaf - 26

A retreat turned out to be a treat. A plan by our daughters and we chose to be a part.

Last week end for Deepavali, also ended up in celebrating our wedding anniversary.

In about an hour +, from the outskirts of Bengaluru, we were in Ramanagara.

It was in this village that the epic Hindi film was shot, based on a real life story of Gabbar Singh a dacoit who lived in the hills of Gwaliyor. We remember Gabbar Singh as enacted by Amjad Khan in the film SHOLAY shot at Ramnagara. Imagine Amitabh's salary was ₹1 lakh and Amjad Khan's ₹ 50000/. and Hemamalini received ₹75000/.

We stayed overnight in a camp, no cell phone signal disturbances, no TV, news papers or rooms with air conditioners. We had tents, at a height, surrounded by silence, occassionally 'disturbed' by peacocks cry, sounding 'may-AWE'. Wake up calls were by different species of birds, signed in with the chirp of breeze whisling through the woods.

We drove about an hour in the early morning looking out how clouds descend on the mountains and the mist forming water globules that were channelised as rivulets that led to the river. On our way through the forest land, deers, monkeys and parrots had just woken up to greet us on the two sides. A row of cows were being led by farmers and one came close, to have her share of banana skin through my car window.

River Cauvery in Karnataka was to brim. We were close to a whirlpool in the river and a few watched, aligators raising their neck to greet the "animal" in us.

Previous evening we had a treck up the hill, surrounding the SHOLAY movie site of huge rocky mountains that carried the smell of Hemamalini's Basanthy and Dharmendra's Veeru. The entire scenario that we watched from atop the hill ended up with limitless colours on the horizon, with the setting Sun.

With ages from 5 years to 75, like the shades that merged in sky, each one was amidst nature. Children picked up from around what they felt was precious to each one of them and Sukaina trying to assess, whose treasure was the best, found it difficult to judge.

Few of the takeaways, were a list of amazing a to z list and included touching silk worms with silk threads kept on sale (silk worms to silk saree is a STORY by itself), sleeping in the hammock hung under the tree, the night's barbeque with the bonfire, the difficult treck up the hillocks, viewing the mountains with binoculars, spending valuable shared time, the music from the guitar and co-inhabitants of nature, the turbulence of the whirlpool of aligators and the list was endless.

Say "yes" to life. We have so much to explore, exchange, expand and to listen to the music from our hearts.

By the time I unpacked haversack, my mind's paint brush was ready to colour my day for storing in the chest of memories.

A lesson I learnt: I was able to WALK and CLIMB UP THE HILL, though I was the last in the group. Because I gained energy by not using Cell Phone, TV and did not read newspapers. I gained energy by being with nature.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Shimla, India

Travelogue - Leaf - 25

In 1864, British declared this place as Summer Capital of India, a place carved out of seven hills. It was in 2013, to celebrate our 40th wedding anniversary we drove up the hills from Chandigarh with our friends; courtesy Babli and Ravinder Singh. The return trip we took the two feet six inches wide rail track 96 kM in length that mesmerized and soaked our experiences in Shimla.

From day one, we moved out into the captivities, enclosed within the forests, unknown tracks and hidden treasures of nature. One eve, we attempted to walk with a full moon above. I did recollect the words of Oscar Wilde: "a dreamer is one who can find the way by moon light, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world". That eve, of course, we returned from the 'moon walk' to take part in the bonfire dinner set at the resort. Dream of course continues.

Our walk around the Indian Institute of Advanced Study in Shimla, built in 1884 to 1886 to house the then Viceroy Lord Duffein, now turned IIAS Building was beautiful. History was etched in this building – like decision to make Pakistan and East Pakistan in 1947.

Mall Street, is a place where one can do shopping. We posed near the 1857 Neolithic style built Christ Church close by the Ridge. "3 Idiots" film was shot in Shimla, Mall Street and in the woods.

What we missed was the snow clad Shimla. Two days after our departure it snowed and the staff from resort sent us some pictures. Himalayas impose on us a variety of moods and mood swings to feel free.

One great experience we had was a kind of adventure in the Sutlej River, starting its origins from Mount Kailash. A guide did the course direction during our kayaking in the row boat. After Kayaking we arrived at Tatapani with the extremely chill water that sprayed on our faces from river, as we tilted in the boat, hitting rocks and waves. A lesson to handle fear and to try out a new thing, we never ventured earlier.

As we alighted and sat on the beautiful stone mounts on the shore of Sutlej river, we were guided to touch the hot water flowing up from just 2 feet away from the very cold river water. That spring water was so hot we saw the cold water steaming.

These two extreme temperatures in close proximity was another lesson. Co-exist, Co-operate, Appreciate. The paradox theories inhibit reasoning. In reality two uncompromising people or situations can co-exist. Then a fusion of the two contradictions evolves. That poets say is Love!

The people living in hilly areas are different and as usual we walk the talk as we used to enjoy a hot chai prepared for the two of us and ended up with hugs. Life it looked not at all complicated as was visible from their smiles.

Himalayan heights excite! It gives a feeling of effervescence. It makes you feel happy. We wondered why the heart beats did not go up. May be we were immersed in the beauty of blue mountains that merged with clouds.

The rest of descriptions are in some photographs; tributes to those who clicked ours, including wayside people, hotel staff and our car drivers and horse chieftains who took us to some wonderful and beautiful locales.

Shimla gave us a chance to listen. We could listen to our own heart beats, in those silent vallies. That was the best music we heard; because those beats were composed by God Himself.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

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[amarnathpallathsblog]

Mahabalipuram, India

Travelogue - Leaf - 24

We saw and heard of China routes to Mahabalipuram, the beautifully lit rock carved pillers, artisans work, panjrathas, the shore temple and the sea close to the legendary World Heritage Sites that Pallava kings built way back in 700 AD.

Amazing, the heritage of India is getting attention that it deserves. As a traveller, me my wife and daughters had been to sites that tell stories from across lands. Momories are treasures. Age old Indian stories (avoided the word hiSTORIES) are mind capturing, whoever built those mammoth stand alone architectures, we are proud of what we are, including the images that India developed across countries.

The China connection and Mahabalipuram, reminds me, in our family, we have a Chinese link. Phalgun (who passed away) was living in Bombay and got a penfriend (this was before WhatsAp and Face Book started) with whom he commenced a pen and letter journey. The two decided to meet, and they did. One happened to be from Tellicherry and the other a Chinese girl. In the language of love, smile does the talk. mind appreciates. Slowly hearts take over, in a delicate balance. The two are symbols of merged cultures. Phalgu and Anu taught me over a period of 45 odd years that China or Telicherry, dimension of love is a synergy between two individuals falling in love. Cultures melt in cruscibles to shape an affair of love.

My connection to the shore temple town in Mahabalipuram, is way back from 1971 as a bachelor. We used to take week end retreats on my Lambretta scooter MDA 1651, bought (second hand one) for ₹2500/-. Petrol used to cost about ₹2.80 per liter. Time is a non-stop machine.

Four families with whom we share an affair of friendship and love used to spend week ends with "Johny' and "Walk"ed around in Mahabalipuram. Times meant escapades from professional routines, just to be in grip of fun.

Black and White are the photos attached to this leaf. Nostalgia is a priceless treasure. Look at the different kinds of stone art, a single stone carved from inside; carved from a single stone outside; on side walls and fourth where different stones are assembled into one. Amazing!

"The most beautiful things are not associated with money; they are memories and moments" says Alek Wek. Truely the many visits to Mahabalipuram over a period from 1971 till a couple of years ago, only enhanced curiosity on our treasures and traditions.

These photos are ticklers to a huge bundle of memories. Not colourful though, some touched my heart, as few in the photos chose to travel to alien destinations. I too have changed colour of my hair, like the black and whilte photos from black to white.

Let me unload my memories so that you reload your bundle of nostalgia to enjoy moments, that add joy to your lives.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Varanasi

Travelogue - Leaf - 23

On 28 September, 2019 she woke up; healthy. 29 September, 2019 at about 2 a.m. she breathed her last. By 3 p.m. same day she was cremated in electric crematorium. Seconds later, I asked my grandson, 10 years old, and he stood silent. Asked him again about his great grandmother and where she had gone. He was trying to find an answer. I told him to look up to the chimney to see the smoke from the crematorium. My wife's mom passed away, silently.

Life ls a limited edition book. Breaths choose time "in" and "out", to end the story. All scripted images then are memories. Rest swallowed into time and space. Neither right or wrong, or for that matter truth or lies link anymore, everything becomes smoke.

Two years ago, three families decided and boarded a train to visit Varanasi. Kashi is the other name. One thing that provoked my thoughts, after watching the funeral pyres on the banks of Ganga river, Kashi; was about the "null and void" that is celebrated as death. A truth that dents and denies all lies!

It was my school friend who prompted us to take that trip to Varanasi. Watching the evening Arathy (puja) on first day from the banks and the second evening from the Ganges, seated in boat, I prayed. First for that little girl who sold us the floating lamp with one wick and few flowers. A while later, the Ganges had innumerable star like lamps that glittered as we watched realities.

During day, we travelled by boat rowed by a young boy, to the Sangam (confluence) where the three rivers Ganga, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswathy met. Each river water had a distinct colour (Saraswathy flows occasionaly though) but at the sangam, colours merged. I dipped at Sangam and prayed for blessings for the one who rowed our boat. He is the third generation boy (?) who has carried pilgrims to the Sangam. He and the little girl who sold lamps are products of a belief system. They are unlike the urbanised category like me who cannot understand their language of love at work. I felt, after about 45 years of professional life - their passion, underlines their smiles at work.

I was clicking my camera capturing the migratory Siberian birds that flew around us in the boat. This picture and that of the burning ghats where Westerners walk around and cows eat rugs are retained in my memory frames. The migratory birds are not bothered to make a holy dip like me in Ganges. Neither the cows are aware what burns in the pyres. Those birds and cows realised in me, one meaning: Live life while living. Sooner or later bodies are in flames or be part of earth. Between 'falsehood and lies' I tried to shape a meaning of the 'genuine truth', from the cry of birth to celebration of death. It is just an entertainment of joy and sharing.

My friend from 1962, as collegemates, met after 16 years in Jeddah, Indian School. We used to meet often there. Later when both retired we met for his son's wedding. He, Kunhahmmad, passed away three and a half years ago. In between the silence we used to have, he narrated his story: He held a dry length of a leaf in his hand as he entered the burial ground and the person at the gate asked him where he was going? Ahmad replied: to pray for the departed friend. The person asked him about the dry leaf, Ahmad told: to keep near the buried body. He asked him if Ahmad did good to his departed friend when he was alive. Ahmad told: "Yes". That person took away the leaf and told Ahmad: all what you did matters! This dry leaf has no meaning or relevance!

On 7th October 2019, a Mumbai begger meets an accidental death on rail tracks. Police traced and in his slum they found FD documents worth lakhs, PAN, Adhar etc and coins and cash over lakhs. He now represents just smoke. Probably his life was driven with a purpose but met with his last breath, all of a sudden. Now there are many claimants for his left over wealth, none when he lived. It's like that; like a cell phone loosing battery charge, life conks off.

We can SHARE what we can. This is a possibility. One day as I become smoke; I know for sure, people would only remember what I did for others. Rest is just smoke ... that vanishes in thin air.

[amarnathpallathsblog]

Konark - Puri - Chilka (India)

Travelogue - Leaf - 22

Obscure, it may look, but some places lie in the backyard of our minds, hidden and silent. From Kolkotha, during 1998, we chose three places to go to. We were excited we chose the path.

History books states the two temples as “Black Pagoda” and “White Pagoda” and these were landmarks for sailors in the Bay of Bengal. There exists a story of two powerful magnets guiding ships to anchor; that British rulers took away. Built in the 13th Century by King Narasingha, what remains in Konark are detailed artwork with stories.

Puri temple had the ritual of Ratha Yathra on 4th July. This is a UNESCO declared world heritage center and we visited these places from Bhubaneswar; to spent moments, understanding the superb architectures at Konark where Sun rays fall within the centre of the temple. Konark temple is also known for its erotic sculptures.

We had the opportunity to meet Vineetha Mishra, friend of our daughter, who hails from Bhubaneswar. She narrated the Puri festivities and about Konark. My limited knowledge of history linked me to what we heard and saw.

Our boat ride on the 3500 square kilometers of Chilka lake watching migratory birds flying along side was breath taking. That ride, appeared a never ending one till we touched banks of Kalijai temple. Chilka lake by area is second largest brackish lagoon in the world.

Like seasons change life calls out for a change, a transition. Travel also tells how small a place we are occupying in this world. Our trip to these places made us aware that whatever we heard was not what we saw. If you need to believe, you need to see.

Collective memories leave a trail of footprints of places. In sum and substance the Bhubaneswar - Puri - Konark - Chilka round trip remain an explorative journey.

Life is about exploration. Achieving a fixed state of balance is a limitation. With the limited period on earth, do what you can. Experiencing life with family, understanding limitations we view, and squeezing the minutes in minute ways. This is the way we need to live.