Revisiting Leh

You ask me, friend, is Leh much different from when you saw it last? Does it look any different? Does it feel different to be there?

It is so, I answer. And yet not.

Hostel where I stayed as a student intern

When I was at Leh earlier, I was a student, seeking to understand the place and help. I had stayed there for two months; in minimal comfort but with conviction that what I was doing would help change the lives of the people there. (This was during my NGO stint during my MBA course with SPJIMR. I had done a primary survey, report and forecast of the energy needs of the Ladakh region with two of my course mates in the months from March to May 2006 with the Ladakh Ecological Development Group, that was to be given to the J&K govt.)

White magic: snowfall at Ladakh

It snowed on Sunday.

After my first encounter with snow, Spring seemed to be preparing to make itself at home in the valley. The air was getting warmer, and we even managed to take a couple of walks with just light sweaters on.

But Winter was not one to give up that easily. It let Spring claim the day, but under the cover of darkness, when least expected, it struck the earth with tons of snow.

The magic of the mountainside

As a rule, I desist from using superlatives.

There is a danger in strewing them around insouciantly. The reader encounters one, then the second superlative. By the time she reaches the third, a discontent starts brewing, like when one forces yet another sweet down though the tongue does not enjoy the taste as much as the earlier ones. If she encounters a fourth one, she starts questioning the credibility of the author’s narrative. Come on, she thinks, nothing can be that good. Now the author’s just trying to enliven reality. Another superlative, and the reader bids goodbye.

The Ladakh Survey begins

“Darling I love you, but not when you’re so fast.”

The Border Roads Association comes up with some innovative quips to make drivers aware of dangers of driving fast.

“It is better to be Mr. Late than Late Mr.” went another one.

A week’s perspective at Ladakh

Two whole buckets of hot water!

Today’s bath was a luxury.

At Leh, things taken for granted back at home seem to be an event of note. Simple things like having hot water to bathe, having running water in the house, drinking water with a glass – we usually drink using a mug or cup, straight from the bucket – feel like causes for celebration.

Leaving for Ladakh – part 2

Yeh kiske bus ki baat hai?

Three kinds of buses ply Delhi.

The Whiteline buses are the costliest, and also the fastest if you want to get anywhere in Delhi. The premium charged goes towards having lesser stops along the way and shorter routes.

The Delhi State Transport buses stop more frequently along the way, but achieve reasonable bursts of speed between them.

Every classification has the reader guessing about the last entity to be mentioned. If the first in the list is touted as the fastest, the second as the next best option, it is natural to assume that the third would be the slowest of the three.

Leaving for Ladakh – part 1

 Yatrigar krupya dhyaan de…

“Two days is a long time, na?” remarked my brother as we hauled my luggage up the subway to platform 6 of Bangalore station.

“Hmm, I’ll manage,” I grunted, struggling under the weight of all the woolens and thermals I was carrying.

Two days would be a long time. I did not remember when I made such a long train journey alone earlier.

I hoped I still had possession of my unique God-given gift – the ability to sleep for phenomenal amounts of time in the train.