A Day in the mountains

As the ascent to Meghalaya started, so did my fight to keep my eyes open. I had woken up at 3:00 am, brahmamuhurat as per the ever-graceful grandfather figure or in my language an unearthly hour, and it was now close to mid-day. Post landing and beautiful darshans, we were enroute to Cherrapunji and I wanted to be awake not just for the sights but to be able to sleep early. My driver saw my struggle and suggested that I nap till we reach a viewing point where we could also have a cup of tea. That was all that I needed and my eyes closed shut. 
The next thing I know is being asked to wake up as we were nearing Shillong and the viewing point. My body slowly got into the first gear but as the views of Bara Pani or lake Umiam came to fore there was a sudden shift to the fourth gear. I got off the car soaking in the clean, misty, and dreamy mountain air. Camera forgotten in the car the phone came to life and I was smiling. This trip had been a good decision.
 
But so was the thought of having tea, which was nowhere in sight! The driver I realised had woken me up earlier as this was a clear day and a not to miss view. The tea point was ahead. Knowing that I was now nestling in the mountains, all sleep vanished into the floating clouds. 
 
As we continued to Cherrapunji, the driver informed me that I could synch my phone to the car's audio system and play my music. So came Abhijeet Pohankar from my airpods on to the car stereo. The combination of the landscape, the weather and the music was ethereal. A viewing stop and a couple of waterfalls later we reached our destination, and I was smiling. It had been a great day and good start to the holiday. 
 
Bright and early the next morning I woke up, ready to trek up and down 3500 stairs to see the double root bridge. Not on my original itinerary, I had brought about the change at the last minute. Caves seemed lame. This trek was the adventure that I sought. As we continued our journey through the clouds to the trek point, my driver gave me basic inputs on the history and culture of Meghalaya. It was interesting to note that while from clothes to food their habits are close to their customs (an admirable fact), the script of the language has moved to English alphabet. And yet most locals are more comfortable in Hindi as opposed to English. 
 

Drive to the trek in the morning

At the trek point I craved a cup of tea, which given the morning hour and the weather was more of an indulgence than a need. My guide (one who was going to help me get to the bridge and back) insisted that we have it “down”. I was not sure what “down” meant but I went along. Just as we started our descent, a young girl called out to me. She requested if she could join me and as two solo travellers we split the guide cost. The more the merrier and so we went down the rabbit hole not knowing what lay ahead. 
 

See the white huts, that was our destination

Enthusiasm and excitement took over and we were skipping steps, literally, even those that were let us say about fifteen inches high. By the time we reached "down" which was a small settlement, our legs were shaking or vibrating as Michael Star, our guide, insisted on addressing the phenomenon. Now I realised why he had insisted on tea "down". This was the halfway point and a resting spot. 
 
As a vegetarian, travelling globally has taught me to be food ready. My remedy is to carry methi paranthas for which the flour is kneaded with milk. This makes them need less oil. As the tea came out so did my paranthas. My companion, let us call her Akira, initially hesitant also shared them and we had a breakfast of paranthas dipped in tea. Simple pleasures are indeed the most heartening. 
 
Climbing down had been fun and filled with Akira and I getting to know one another. Two things struck me, first the same path had to be climbed back up and second this was quarter of the way only. I decided to pace myself. As we crossed the swinging iron bridge I was reciting Hanuman Chalisa. Fun it indeed was but with a single file of multiple people of different ages, shapes and sizes, the swing was a bit discomforting. Let me be honest, I was more than a tad nervous and so came the Chalisa to give me strength. On the other side, the view was stunning. The gush of the water that reverberated was a white foam gliding over the rocks. I was now keen to get to the double root bridge and the waterfall there. 

The iron bridge pre crossing

The view below the iron bridge - post the fact

 
Not spectacular in size, the falls were mesmerising for their clarity, white foam and easy access. What took me in was the double decker bridge, made of roots whose strength has survived and strengthened over centuries. The marvel of nature made my entire being smile and I took of my shoes so that I could dip my feet in water and sit in the tranquillity of nature. Of course, there was a crowd of tourists around but imagining the engineering of mother nature obscured all those present and I sat soaking in the unique architecture, the soothing cool water and the fresh smell of the air. 

The waterfall at the Double Decker root bridge

The double decker root bridge itself - yes you walk across

 Akira too was taken in by the place but two decades younger and with twenty tonnes more frenzy, she slipped into my thoughts. Happy having her photographs taken, she wanted to ensure I had mine clicked too. While she took some, she insisted Michael Star also took a few, just to be sure they were worthy. Pictures taken from all vantages we had another cup of tea. There was Maggi going around as well but neither one of us wanted it. Which place in India can say that Maggi is unavailable? 
 
As we were sipping on the cup of tea Akira spoke about the Blue Lagoon which was another 30-40min of trek ahead. Apparently the waters were clear blue, and she was quite keen to see it. I was not sure if I was up for it but I was persuaded. And we embarked on another trek down another rabbit hole. This one did not have steps through the tricky terrain but instead had wooden ladders loosely tied at places. Michael Star showed us how to navigate these. As if these were not enough, there was yet another iron bridge. But this time there were only the three of us, so the swing was within limits. 

As we descended the last ladder to the blue lagoon I was glad I came. There was no other human being but the three of us in this lush pool surrounded by rocks that were overseen by green trees. Clear blue skies smiled from above, little butterflies flew across and the water danced to its own tune as it waved over the rocks. This was truly serene and totally divine. I could have stayed for longer had Michael Star not warned me that it was a climb up that awaited us. 
 

The last ladder at the Blue Lagoon

The Blue Lagoon

Michael Star at the Blue Lagoon

The way back was a test of pacing, stamina and will power. As we got to the double decker bridge we took a break, hydrated again and this time ate the local pineapple. They were just delicious; sweet, tangy and refreshing all at once. A couple of pineapple slices, a few back stretches and throwing the waste in a dust bin was all that was needed to start the ascent. Let’s just say that after crossing the iron bridge it seemed that the swing was probably a lullaby! 

A view enroute 

 
As we halted to rest every time I wondered how the villagers living in the valley traversed this path the three times a week, every week. I was wondering about this when I saw a local pass by. He put one foot on a step and then the other on the same step before proceeding to the next. As he did this he inhaled via his nose and exhaled via his mouth. I decided to deploy this and viola, I could climb 3x as many steps without having to rest and even when I did it was not because I was out of breath but to pace. Within three hours and twenty minutes we had reached up. This was a total climb of 90+ floors and close to 12km taking about 20000 steps according to my app. 

See the enless steps?

 
Once at the top my driver waited to greet me, more to see if I made it myself or had to be carried. Seeing me walking and fit he was so elated that he treated Akira and I to tea. Akira decided to grab a bite as well, but I guess I was just delighted to have completed a spontaneous adventure. It was a little over 6.5 hours but it was worth it!
 
The sun that shone in the valley was now calm as this was the playground for the clouds. I wanted to start the journey back to the hotel and drive through the clouds before darkness set in. (Sunrise is at about 4:45am and sunset at about 5:45pm) The drive back, though with aching muscles was equally beautiful. We even stopped at another point where I saw the clouds setting the blanket over Cherrapunji for a tranquil, misty night. After yet some more photographs we were finally on our way to the hotel.

A beautiful end to a wonderful day

 
As I entered the room I was elated. Spontaneous decision making had brought about yes some adventure, some fun, a new acquaintance but most importantly a soul satisfying day in the mountains.  
 

Prakash - Truly a gift for the taste buds

There are some things in life that do not change and what a blessing that is. That was exactly my emotion as I walked out of today's team lunch. 

We had a morning filled with meetings and my colleagues were clear from the word go. Today's lunch had to be simple and authentic local cuisine. Now, the outsiders may not realise it, but Mumbaikars will. Authentic local cuisine in this city is Maharashtrian, Gujarati and even Sindhi. Then comes the street food which is a mix of the two former cuisines. So I was not sure what to pick. However, given that we were in Prabhadevi, I took the decision to satisfy my own nostalgia and cravings and take them to Prakash - Shakahari Upahar Kendra at Sena Bhavan.

For the uninitiated I must say you have missed out on life! If you have lived in Mumbai or been here and not been to Prakash and Aswad, then well make sure your next visit has these two eateries factored into your plans. I got introduced to Prakash twenty five years ago. Yes, you read that right. 

Let me start at the beginning. These were the days of engineering. Chembur to town (as where I reside in Mumbai is and was addressed) was a long journey that started at a college where the canteen only served Vada pav or pav Vada if you wanted variety. It was absolutely not an option to eat there unless one was starving of hunger. I had a large group of friends and a bunch of us stayed after the mid point between Chembur and town. So this bhookad ("forever hungry") lot of us would stop at a few places over the course of four years. 

In the order that the destinations  enroute, the first one was Matunga circle. Of course we would get off here for a dosa. Mumbaikars will know that any of the udipi restaurants here are worth entering into blindly. Some people have their own preferred ones, and rightfully so, but you cannot go wrong with any. I for one am a dosa fan. Given that I was born in the south, I guess I acquired that taste in the womb itself. So these are stops that I liked.

The next stop is the one where I cringed. A lot of this "gang" hailed from a junior college aka high school called Ruia College. For them, Chinaman was next to heaven. As the name suggests, it served Chinese albeit Indo Chinese, one cuisine that my taste buds have never taken to. The twisty oil soaked noodles and the chewy Manchurian made my stomach roll even before I saw the food. Yet, pretending to be a part of the crowd I would follow the enthusiasts to this place, to which I also had to walk a lot from the bus stop. It just seemed unfair! Go to eat food I don't enjoy and that too after walking more than I needed to. 

That is where the third and final stop came - Prakash. It was just behind the bus stop and it had the most lip smacking sabudana Vada, sabudana khichdi, piyush, Thalipeeth, misal etc. Now if I acquired the taste for idlis and dosas in the womb, the taste for sabudana khichdi was no younger. My very first memory of eating sabudana khichdi, sabudana Vada and Kanda poha is when my father's younger brother took a toddler me to pick up his car. At Panshikar (another famous Maharashtrian food place at Opera House), I still remember, standing on the table and gobbling the three snacks. Chacha and I both enjoy these snacks and probably he gave this taste to me. So for me Prakash was divine - no walk, all scrumptious food and taking me back to childhood. 

After I graduated, I still went to Prakash. Then I moved to Europe. But as Mr Pea's parents stay close by, when I went to visit them I stopped to get my fix - the sabudana vada or the khichdi. Once I moved back to Mumbai, I followed Prakash. It was covered by New York Times (https://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/21/travel/21bites1.html). I commended their taste buds. I knew when re-construction of the building started the place moved across the road. But going there for a meal did not happen. So today I grabbed the opportunity literally with both hands. 

I warned my colleagues that there would be no air conditioning (Mumbai recorded 38 C today), we would have "some random people" share the table with us and it would be a small space. They were game for it and I was super excited. One colleague asked if there would be a thali. I did not recall one there and I looked at him saying I don't know but thinking why would one want a thali at Prakash and off we went to locate the relocated Prakash. 

As expected we had to wait. Thankfully we stood in the blistering sun for only 10 min when we got a full table for four. So no random folks joining us. The waiters still wore the same pink coats. How familiar! How nostalgic! There was no AC. Yet another box ticked. Felt like coming home! Now even before I looked at the menu I ordered two Sabudana vadas. My colleagues were a bit surprised but I was the local. Then I glanced at the menu and saw a thali. So I ordered that. Next came Piyush. A cousin of the north Indian lassi, it definitely is the one I am partial to. Ok let me.just  out and say it. Lassi literally pales in comparison to Piyush. And finally Solkadhi which was for me and I was not sharing it. This is a cousin of the masala chaas and well they both get my attention but cannot be shared. 

Before I move on let me tell you the reaction to the Sabudana Vada in the words of my colleague. " I had gone to Chennai to meet a friend and he took me to a place where we had to wait for 10 min to eat idlis. I was wondering what the fuss was all about. They eat idlis daily at home. It is an idli. But once I ate there I could stand in the queue again. That is what this Sabudana vada is about." Well that is how you create fan following people! 

Next I ordered a Thalipeeth for the table. This spicy and scrumptious flat bread is made of multigrain flour. I have always loved Thalipeeth and Zeitgeist probably knows how much the best. His mother makes some excellent Thalipeeth. In fact the day I landed in Canada for his wedding, his mother asked me what I felt like eating. And there, in the foreign land, I had said Thalipeeth and she made this not so easy to make flat bread. The two pieces served today were over even before they came. 

The misal met with the same fate. Made with sprouts and legumes, this snack in a gravy, topped with curd was washed away. I was smiling. And as I was seeing food being eaten faster than it could be served, I also saw people digging into the Bhindi in the thali with gusto. The one with the thali did not mind. In fact I think he encouraged it so that he could try the other stuff as well. So he took the dal out as he supposedly does not like dal. I tried to explain how delicious Varan bhat is and so another one just took it on his plate while scooping some rice from the Thali. Everyone was just enjoying this indulgence. 

By then I had probably had half a Sabudana vada and saved a small portion of the thali peeth as I savoured my Solkadhi. To see what I wanted to eat, I turned to the menu and knew what I wanted - Pithala Bhakri. Made of gram flour, the Pithala is a spicy and delicious thick curry. The Bhakri served is soft and mouth melting. When the portion came, I called dibs. Took one bhakri and some Pithala and then left the others to decide how they wanted to split the balance. I was a happy trooper. As I ate mine, taking time with each bite, the others had demolished this too! 

Finally came time for dessert. And while the menu has options, I had decided as I had entered that the sweet would be kesar Shrikhand. Hung sour curd, churned with saffron and sugar, it's thick, it's aromatic and it lightens the palate with all of the above along with a satiating cooling sensation. If I go on describing this, I would need to restrict the audience and so will stop. The proof however is, people ordered individual portions after having shared the one originally ordered. 

After such a hearty lunch it was difficult to get up. It was after two thirty pm and the lunch rush had subsided as well. To give the food time to settle we discussed a legal agremeent and a P&L issue. After no excuse was left we called for the bill. That is when the final tradition of Prakash was unveiled. Please pay in cash only. I think this is one bill that everyone on the table wanted to pay! Wholesome, authentic and delicious; my colleagues walked away thinking we got away scott free with a menial initial ten minute wait and a bill that was lighter than the Bhakri we ate.  

Fortunately, some things in life don't change. And food at Prakash is one of those! 

Bithoor to Lucknow - My thoughts and my drive

This is a fairly random post; random because it's a compilation of the many thoughts that went through my mind as I drove from Bithoor to Lucknow. If ten years ago I would have suggested to the family that I will drive from Bithoor to Lucknow, even with a driver with me in the vehicle there would have been an uproar. I had lived, worked and traveled overseas all by myself. I drove past mid night in Mumbai. Even Mumbai to Pune through the ghats was acceptable. But driving through rural UP, as a woman, it was not to be. So the last few years have been a great relief. This is not thanks to a political party but largely to the citizens and the family who have started to see things from a wider lens now. 

While I was driving there was a driver with me who would get the car back. All of 20 years, I learnt as I started a conversation, he stopped studying after the fifth standard as he did not enjoy studies. So he learnt how to drive and now earns a livelihood with that. But he should study is what I tried to reason and he smiled, signalling that my rationalisation was falling on deaf years. So I stopped and I switched on my play list. What amazed me how this youngster was mimicing the tabla on the dashboard. He was enjoying the music and I realised that maybe while there was progress for women, overall we need the education system to progress too. Maybe Chintu would have stayed in school if music was a part of his education? 

As I was mulling over this and watching him enjoy my play list I also noticed how civic sense was absent in those who were driving the private cars. These were the people who were not just speeding but also overtaking from the wrong side. This included me on a couple of occassions as well. It struck me how we, the educated, forget that we have the responsibility to set an example and this hit me hard as one SUV swerved fast and hard to get in front of my vehicle at a toll plaza. It irked me to no end that the driver had made such a dangerous manoeuvre risking his own life and ours too. So I honked hard and Chintu said, "jaane do didi, pagal hai" ("let it go, he is mad"). He was more sensible in that moment than I was and I was humbled. I apologised and drove on. 

As we entered Lucknow and I drove through the city, I witnessed close to twenty or thirty fruit hawkers with stalls side by side. On the road side, as they awaited customers, these hawkers were laughing, playing and having a good time. Not one was trying to shun the other or did I sense any hostility. The traffic was terrible and so I could observe this closely. Wanting to see if my sense was accurate I parked on the side and got off to buy some oranges. As I approached one vendor and negotiated with him, the others kept quiet. Not one pitched in with a lower offer, maybe one said I have better quality but they wanted their neighbour to conclude the sale. I bought a kilo, gave it to Chintu and my mind went to my days as a banker. One of the reasons I quit banking in India was that all compete on price and only that. Unlike the hawkers, we bankers did not differentiate with quality or experience or expertise, but won mandates by undercutting. What if we all held out prices firm but developed our expertise, would the world of banking in India have more depth? 

As I was thinking this I blindly followed my Google maps to meet a friend and customer of my current organization. He was keen to give me feedback and I had some time before my flight. Plus we had last met in 2018 so I guess it made sense to make the stop. I was driving to the location he had shared but should have realised that the narrow road was not the intended route. After a kilometre it struck me what an idiot I had been. So I decided to make a u-turn. Now I was driving a Xylo which is a manual mammoth of an SUV. So it was not the easiest u-turn in that narrow lane that had shops and hawkers on either side. I decided to give it a try anyway and suddenly there was a good Samaritan who emerged to discipline the two wheeler traffic that was adamant on going their way without giving me even thirty seconds. As soon as I had turned he walked away, even before I could say a thank you. This happens only in a few cities in the country, cities where we value human interaction and have empathy. Try thinking of this is in a Delhi or Bangalore and I am sure it's just a fantasy. In Bombay while on a daily basis this may be a sweet dream, when times are tough the citizens can forget all their differences and  rescue strangers at cost of their own material and physical comfort. "Muskuraiye Aap Lucknow mein hain" (Smile, you are in Lucknow) has a new meaning for me. 

A good meeting and some Lucknow delicacies later, I was on my way to the airport. Let us just say that this city is beautiful and a must visit for those who have not been here. I drove slowly to navigate the unruly traffic yes, but also to soak in the city that is so untravelled. Where the past and current governments have created public spaces, invested in upkeep and good infrastructure, those areas beat the best locales of the Indian metros. But where the city has been neglected it's sad to see dilapidated architecture and the chaos that exists. Like most Indian cities the so called metro construction only adds to the mayhem. The only hope is that this election will bring in the older government, only so that the policy continuation happens and there is no more disharmony created. But the truth is that this is reality for most Indian cities and the only exception I can think of is Jaipur. Not only is the historic architecture preserved, the development had been more systematic and the traffic rule observation is stellar. 

Once at the airport, I had to keep my cool to deal with the breaking of the queues and the confusion. But one respite from all this travel related irritation was my customary shopping of the Chikan salwar kurta material at the airport. I have always been very partial to this embroidery that originated during the Mughal rule and own multiple Chikan work salwar kameez and sarees. The shop at the airport in particular has cotton that lasts years and some of their work is fabulous so if I land up liking something I usually buy it. And like all times the two men at the counter were patient and generous as I went through different patterns. Ultimately I bought two pieces and this time I got a ten percent discount; courtesy CoVid they have not had sale and so want to lure customers. 

Hands full, bags checked and with a grateful heart I boarded my flight. Every trip to Bithoor is special and makes me count my blessings but today I am recounting my learnings. Hopefully I will remember to be more forgiving on highways and roads, set the right example whenever I can, work with the aim to grow the pie for all and lastly hold myself and leaders I select accountable. With this thought I am signing off hoping to catch some zzzs on the flight. 

Have a great weekend ahead.