An Indian On The Loose

A NIGHT IN THE CANAL

kayenne — Tue, 09 Apr 2013 05:53:43 -0400

The first thing to do on my list for Venice was to get lost. I did not want to see the Rialto or San Marco. So I took the map and kept it in my pocket and out I went exploring the city. Visiting free museums and churches, observing people and gazing at the shop windows once in a while. Venice is no doubt a very touristy place. Lined with souvenir shops or restaurants it is crowded with masks and beautiful blow glass memorabilia.

After getting lost and finding my way I went back to the hotel to get dressed as I was meeting a friend in the evening. Sadly Venice does not have any nightlife at all. There aren’t any clubs or bars that are open till late and if you don’t know where to go then all you can do is go and sleep. I went to Campo Santa Margarita where the young Venetian “parties”. Chit chatting, listening to live music and sipping spritz is what the college going Venetian describes as a party. Well as they say when in Venice do what the Venetians do…..or was it Rome.

The crowd at the Campo was not as bad as I thought it would be. Young, hip and chatty young Italians who are getting drunk by the hour with lovely music and tasty finger food, the evening was quite good. My friend turned out to be pretty popular at the university and so has good connections. This proved better when we were invited by a group of musicians to join them for appetizers and drinks. We also ran into a group of film students from United Kingdom shooting a film in Venice. The night got better as the spritz kept flowing. A few hippies joined us later and so did their dogs. Not just any dog but huge, tiger like dogs. Soon people started to disperse and by the time it was midnight most of the “party” goers had left. I had no intentions of calling it a night and requested Paolo to show me secrets of Venice. He loves Venice and is very well aware of some amazing places in the city that only locals know. After seeing some amazing sights we went to his favourite spot. Here the road ends into a cove like area with waterways on three sides and beautiful Venetian buildings. It was quiet and all you could hear was the sound of choppy water hitting the side walk and the boats parked there. The sky was clear and stars gleamed. No tourists no noise and no locals, this was Venice as it sleeps at night like a child in a cradle floating in calm waters.

We jumped on a boat tied to the pier and lay down facing the silver blue sky with strokes of magenta and dove into the sky. It was beautiful.

Masquerade

kayenne — Fri, 03 Aug 2012 14:40:48 -0400

Early 18th Century and the World had just started unravelling its artistic treasures. Imagine you are in a ship sailing in mystic waters towards your destination, a city only heard about from other sailors. They say that it rises like a jewel in the middle of the sea. Some call it the Queen some call it the land of the winged lion.

And one morning you wake up to the sounds of gulls and a chaotic but excited crew. Filled with mystery, your imagination is running wild and as your ship enters the Grand Canal you see the Bell Tower at Saint Mark Square rising with the Sun. Gleaming in the golden hour it is playing hide and seek with the fluttering mast. How awestruck you would have been with a sight that took your breath away. That is the kind of excitement I want every traveller to feel when they visit Venice. However now all you can see in Saint Mark Square are thousands of tourists moving like cattle following a guide holding up a stick with colourful flags. But all you need to do is change the rules of the book and pick your own path. I for instance choose to get lost in Venice to sample the flavors of this city and pick the mask that best suits my Casanova. It is when one get lost in Venice he finds himself truly appreciating the different characters of this magnificent Opus.

Stay tuned on the Venetian Balcony for the music of the night is yet to be played.

The ride just got bumpier.....

kayenne — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 04:45:44 -0500

What the Fuck!!!!!!!!! That was exactly what I screamed loudly in my mind. How could he say that? We had corresponded through emails and I had even messaged him confirming my seat. And now he says there is no place. I was not letting this go that easily and had no intentions of spending a night at the station. I was furious but also worried inside. What would I do if he takes the other guy (Who was being way too charming to his wife)? After a lot of debating and courtroom like scene, Benny decided to leave it all on the coin to decide. I did not agree for this movie like climax but eventually gave in cause agree or not Benny was the one with the keys. We were kind of now deciding which face to choose. We were close to going in for a toss when this lady who I had met comes out of the car, takes her bag and politely with all the care and kindness offers me her seat. I was floored. We had hardly met and here she is offering me her seat not thinking about what she will do, where she will go. I was so taken aback by this gesture from a stranger. I felt so small and humbled. As she was walking away I ran and hugged her tightly from behind, a drop of tear fell from my eye probably falling on her shoulder. She turned and with warmth in her eyes she sweetly smiled and wished me luck. We hugged again and I went and sat in the car feeling insignificant but also excited to go to Verona. As I pulled up the screen I could see her blue singlet fade away into memory and I smiled hoping to meet her again. The tyres rolled and as we were leaving Munich behind Benny asked me what her name was and I did not have an answer. In the haste I forgot to ask her name and I now felt being pushed further down into my seat. As we entered the Austrian Alps and were being overwhelmed by beauty, I realized we will never meet again, I don’t know her name and no social networking site can connect us. But the fact that we were part of this story this memory that we share the mystery that we coloured together will always connect us. At times I feel that I met her because she was assigned to take me to Benny. She was the medium connecting me to Benny, to Verona. Else I would never have made it to Benny and his wife (There is a wonderful story with them as well). I would not have reached Italy that day.

Many will disagree with me on this but by thinking this way I find answer to various mysteries and realize how magical and grand the world and its ways are. On the lighter side, whenever I see Helen Mirren it will remind me of this kind woman who gave me her seat. But I will have to add a prominent layer of moustache on Helen’s upper lip for that.

Bumpy Ride to Italy

kayenne — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 08:07:48 -0500

To travel is to wilfully leap into the unknown - to give up the assured security of home for the exigencies of the world. This is true whether one journeys from home to a nearby town to see a mela, or to another continent in search of work. Over time, the world and its mores seep, imperceptibly, into our lives and into our minds. We inch closer, howsoever marginally, to becoming - as the Greek philosopher Diogenes first called himself - a “citizen of the world”.

I was getting a little paranoid as I had been waiting for almost an hour for Benny to arrive. I contacted Benny online; he was driving from Munich through Bavaria into Austria and towards Verona (my first destination in Italy). I was so anxious that I inhaled my king-sized Kebab within minutes. I had missed the only train to Verona and my friend (who I was staying with in Munich) had gone to Heidelberg to visit his parents. So basically this was my only chance to get to Verona that day. As I had kept all my eggs in the basket called “Benny” I would have had to sleep at the station if he never showed up.

My uneasiness had reached critical levels as I tried calling Benny who was not picking up his phone. One can easily get to know when a person is uneasy; the cops are especially trained for this. They can smell the slightest whiff of tension in a person. So here I am all worked up standing at the Munich Hbf swallowing my Kebab with no place to go. I was like meat for a hungry cop. I was once in Munich before and was about to board a train to Bamberg when a cop stopped and interrogated me as I was about to board. I missed that train and ended up going to Augsburg, which somehow was not very interesting.

So as I hoped to see Benny (who I hadn’t even met), I also did not want to be frisked again this time. As per Benny’s email, he was driving a black Audi A4 and his wife was accompanying him. I arrived an hour before time at the place he was suppose to pick me up from. I strained my neck because of the constant “left to right” sway, watching every black Audi (there were many) that zoomed past me hoping for it to stop. My hope was swinging like the wave I use to draw in my physics class. Benny and every single Audi driver were toying with my anxiety. Amongst all this chaos I noticed a woman standing two-arms length away doing the same head and neck movement like myself.

I thought the weird reactions in my head were creating this illusion. How could that be, in Europe, in Germany’s second largest city and amongst millions of people, how could that be. Was it possible that of all the people in Germany in Munich I would go and stand next to a woman who is looking for not only the same car but also the same person? Nah…….this is unreal.

Realizing that, I got back to my neck “exercise”. Two cigarettes later (She smoked like a chimney) as I was still observing her and her anxiety at intervals, my mind was probably not playing tricks on me. It’s not easy to approach a woman and ask her whom she is waiting for. There are so many apprehensions and a battle going on in the head. Constantly fighting notions and consequences. It’s more like a crazy war when you are a guy and Indian. One always feels neglected and fears rejection and racism (Which is more in our heads than actually present). These silly ideas kept me from talking to her but I was so desperate and did not want to spend the night at the station I went and asked her if she too was waiting for Benny.

And OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Is this scary or what. When she said yes I burped loudly and out with the sound went all the anxiety. The wind was not cold but felt cool and my neck relaxed as though it was never strained. We started talking and wondering about Benny’s whereabouts or if he will ever show up. I was still a little excited not believing the coincidence. After several calls to Benny and thirty minutes later we managed to locate him and his wife.

I got really excited and was thanking everyone around me the police, the Kebab I ate, the beer I drank last night and the city. Benny and his wife were sweet and apologized for the delay but they soon became mean when they said that the car was full and they had place for just one person.

Weekend in Thimphu.

kayenne — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 08:17:00 -0400

I was back in Thimphu to spend the last two days of my trip and to party through the weekend. I went around seeing a few interesting places and lazed at the Ambient (You will forget a Barista or a CCD). This is where I met some amazing people working at a NGOs here. And they turned out to a great company to party through the night. A day before I planned to leave, I ran into Michael. He forced me to stay another night in Thimphu and took me for a small trek the other day. And OMG! The trek was immensely beautiful, winding through woods and fog we reached an old monastery that has been ignored by the tourist. With the smell of teak and wet grass infusing to compliment the architecture, it was beautiful. The view of the entire city, the palace and the Buddha Point was spectacular. We walked back to the city and gorged on vegetable thukpa that energized us for the night long sessions of party. The best place to let your hair down is Space 34 here I met up with Michael’s friends who too just like him were great and made sure I had an amazing night. This turned out to be a great way to end my trip in Bhutan and a great week of introspection. This was the first time I successfully backpacked alone……the first time I tried doing that, it was eventful and I ended up lost in Eastern Europe. Lets keep that story for the next time we meet.

Beer...Wai Wai...Aces...and lots of fun.

kayenne — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 08:23:52 -0400

After spending another night of partying in Thimphu I got my permit to go to Punakha. The permit system in Bhutan is a little turnoff but thank goodness that we don’t have to cough a $250 (all inclusive) duty per night like other nationals do. Punakha is a small town nestled in the valley high up but it is hot down here. The only place in Bhutan where I saw ceiling fans being used. The room this time around was cheaper but way better than the one I stayed in Paro. Not only was it clean, mosquito free and had an attached bathroom. The hotel owner and his family was super friendly. Having the entire afternoon to myself I joined a few locals at the bar. They taught me a game of cards (very similar to rummy) and after a few trial rounds we started to gamble. Soon half a dozen spectators and more willing pockets to play joined us. I somehow became popular because not only was I loosing but also acting like a total nerd. They were offering me drinks, food and being more than sweet by helping me at times. This went on till several hours before I decided to head out and see the town.

Just like my room in Paro, Punakha ends before it even starts. It’s a very small town with a monastery cum temple being the centre of all activities. I was exploring the monastery when the head monk saw me and invited me over for a private tour. He showed me around the place but only spoke in Dzongkha. He even invited me over to his house for tea. It was really interesting to see how monks actually live. His house rather a room was very simple and he had appointed several young monks to help him keep the place intact. Back to my room, I am surprised to see a group of four guys lined outside my room with beer, wai wai packets and a pack of cards. I was like “What the f**k” are you guys crazy. But it is so hard to say no to a little fun especially one that you can talk about. We happened to play cards all night long even when there was a load shedding. We continued playing in torchlight and I ended up winning my hotel expenses for three nights. Not bad for or a novice like me. The next morning when I was ready to leave the motel owner offers a complimentary night if I stayed back for another session of cards. Imagine that!

The Zong (Fortress cum monastery) in Punakha is said to be the biggest and the most beautiful in Bhutan. And it actually is. Built besides a river, it has several courtyards that house pigeons that keep fluttering everytime and is also the head quarter of the legal body. A running monastery and a house of worship, this Zong does not disappoint photographers at all. Bhutan is a strict country and works very hard (and is successful) to keep its cultural heritage intact. Unlike most Indian they are actually very proud of their cultural heritage, national dress and language. A Bhutanese can only enter these Zongs in their national uniform. Lets try and apply this rule in India and turn headlines.

The other impressive thing about Bhutan is their strict law (that some people do break). Smoking and chewing tobacco is a criminal offence and can land you in prison for three years. The traffic rules are strict and there is a ticket for opening the door from the wrong side or even putting your head out of the car window. People simply don’t like bargaining here (Attention to all Indians) and people here just don’t fight or get angry. I guess its something to do with the pork here. The pigs here nurture on the marijuana plants and the people here eat a lot of pork. So I guess that what keeps them so happy and chirpy. So to be on the brighter side don’t use marijuana. Just eat pigs.

Glory of the Sun, escaping the clouds to spread the light.

kayenne — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 08:06:37 -0400

Glory of the Sun, escaping the clouds to spread the light.

Somewhere in Bhutan.

kayenne — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 07:13:18 -0400

Traveling alone is interesting, good scary but it also gets into you and makes you reach out to strangers for comfort and company and hence making it a great way to make friends. I would never go and strike up a conversation with strangers or tag along with a group of soldiers. But traveling alone made me do that and I am happy about it. There is this sudden burst of confidence that pushes me to reach out. Anyway that night I also met a group of guys from Mumbai (who were baffled to hear that I was backpacking alone and how my parents allowed me to do that) and we ended up having dinner in the bar at the hotel that I was staying at. Well that makes it clear how the food tasted. They made space for me in their prepaid Hyundai Tucson the next day to the Tiger’s Nest (Tatseng Monastery).

The nest is a breath taking sight. Built on a cliff with rooms tugged into the hill. How did they even build such a thing? Phew! It was baffling. I guess the monks used birds as slaves to do it. The trek was steep and long but the “adventurous” me took half the time, thanks to the short cuts and steeper paths through the bushes. On my way up I met this scientist from Australia who was here with his wife and a guide (who was talking and explaining me more stuff than to the ones who hired him for his services). The monastery is as beautiful from the inside as awe inspiring it is from the outside. With winding alleys and windows, it’s got this small hamlet like feel to it. Monks dressed in their red-yellow robes running everywhere and the smell of incense detoxcating the body. It is so good. The sanctum is so overpowering, huge golden colored statues amidst reliefs that tell tales, high up at the edge of the cliff is something that is hard to put words to. This was the only thing about Paro that lives upto all the hype.

Paro has somehow overshadowed what the rest of Bhutan has to offer. It is a beautiful town and mind it not a city. It hardly has anything to call it a city. Things close down at around 8:30 pm. The lanes go off and silent. People like me who like big cities, lights, people, some kind of movement will hate Paro for it has none of these things. All you get here is huge superbly over priced souvenir shops and open sky to capture excellent shots of dramatic clouds. I for instance love Thimphu because not only it is a friendly city but also it has some great places to party all night long and simply walk around without feeling like a stranger. You are bound to run into familiar faces every now and then and its like every one in Thimphu knows everyone. Well its time for me to dance the night away….so see you tomorrow after the hangover.

The Tiger’s Nest…..Well to build this one I am sure...

kayenne — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 06:51:35 -0400

The Tiger’s Nest…..Well to build this one I am sure the tiger had to grow wings or maybe it was a griffin.

Still.....Backpacking in Bhutan..

kayenne — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 07:23:00 -0400

I was Couchsurfing for the first time and my host Lars was extremely accommodating and helpful in every possible way. In short please try Couchsurfing once. You will simply love it. Bhutan is a great place to hitchhike. People here are extremely friendly and love striking up a conversation. It’s easier for “chillups” (that’s what they call foreigners in Bhutan) to get a transport and the mountains somehow look better when viewed from top of a truck. Two days later I hitchhiked my way to Paro.

Paro is where the actual wild part of the trip began. I pitched up in this crazy hotel where the room ends before it even begins. Although it overlooks the Zong it was delightfully uncomfortable. The mattress was a third bigger than the bed and the shared basin never had a tap. But the “best” part was the bee-sized mosquitoes in the bathroom. Before I could use the loo, It took me several minutes to kill the pest otherwise “Sting” help me. Upon arrival I joined a group of friendly army guys to there camp in Haa Valley and feasted on local beer and “pahadi” maggi. Maggi in the hills taste so much better than the one cooked at home.

Paddy fields surrounding Paro.

kayenne — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 13:44:10 -0400

Paddy fields surrounding Paro.

Backpacking in Bhutan.

kayenne — Sun, 03 Jul 2011 13:19:00 -0400

Having planned this entire adventure for and with my cousin, I found myself stranded without any plan and my cousin, who cancelled on me in the last minute. Anyway although disappointed I decided to carry on and took my seat only to be troubled by a family of four that kept me awake till late midnight. There was hardly any place left for me on my berth thanks to the “wholesome” family and their numerous Bijoli Grill food packets. The NRI dad reminded me of a dandy scout teacher from school, he kept shouting in his “British” accent and the kids kept passing “subtle” remarks on my backpack and me. Too subtle for me to notice and hard enough to control my nerve.

The next morning things kind of got better when I woke up to see the train almost empty and meandering its way through acres of tea gardens and lush green forests like a serpent. It would be unfair for me to expect the Indian Railway’s train to be on time. I reached Hasimara about two hours late and immediately made my way to Jaigaon and then onto Phuentsholing (Bhutan) in a rickety bus that could not hurt my back less. Getting into Bhutan is fairly easy especially for Indians. Entering Phuentsholing is like taking a walk in the park. The actual trouble starts when you want to penetrate further in. It is a herculean task for single travelers. And with Bhutan having expanses of wild marijuana plants growing in almost every corner its gets worse. After hours of “jugad”, with my track record of visas and a return ticket, I somehow manage to convince the senior officer to give me a permit till Thimphu and Paro.

As the Sun was going down my anxiety level was peaking. The horrible cabbie and his “khatara” were making it worse. I just wanted to get away from the grey Phuentsholing and to the bright and lively Thimphu. There was a summer party that was awaiting me and all I wanted to do was just dance. After seven hours, several wrong diversions the smoke-puffing car (which by the way could stop any time), I reached Thimphu around midnight. I straightaway headed to the party in my shorts and tee and with my luggage. The best part about clubs in Thimphu, apart from the hip crowd is that they are really casual about how people turn up. My Couchsurfing friend cum host was there to make sure I had a great time. We went to an after party and then to an after-after party that kept us awake till 4 am. The party scene in the capital exceeded my expectations by miles. One could go to Thimphu just to party.