Magical Mystery Tour

Yes, I was there.



The Exploration & Production Team (North), Shell Gourami 2008.

Three Men on a Boat....of Death.

I have nothing against near death experiences. I have them every four months. As long as they are not too near, I am cool. But I get a little pissed if I am informed in advance that extinction hovered in the vicinity without me being able to do anything about it. Hence the events of last Wednesday left me a little peeved.

Ever since my intern prof mysteriously disappeared and kept in touch through monosyllabic mails, life has been good. In our grief, my lab mate John and me though it would be a good idea if we went fishing Wednesday afternoon. Now when you are fishing in the middle of the week you know your intern has finally taken the right turn. So I readily agreed. So we went off to Douglas lake some miles north of Fort Collins. Offering a soothing view of the Rockies and surrounded by open fields, Douglas lake was the idyllic angler's paradise. When we reached there was just one boat on the lake with the fisherman seemingly asleep. We were to go out on a canoe belonging to John's friend Matt. So it was around 5 in the afternoon when we pushed the tiny canoe into the lake with all of us a little worried about the gathering wind and whether it was a little too strong.

Before things got tough

The next three hours were one of the laziest ever. We slowly rowed around the huge lake enjoying the slowly setting sun. We also happened to catch two huge rainbow trouts too. Now Matt who was pretty good at this told us that its when the sun actually starts setting that we get the best catch. Now during this whole time we had seen not one but two storms slowly approaching from the west and the east. As the whole area was completely open, we could see brilliant flashes of lightning regularly striking somewhere on the western and eastern horizons. By eight when the sun was finally setting both the storms had finally drifted our side. But we were oblivious to the whole thing, excited as we were by the impending deluge of aquatic creatures. As we were admiring a rainbow very close to the shore, a bolt of lightning struck pretty close to where we were. Never a big fan of things which doesn't give me at least a minute to prepare for it, I nonchalantly asked Matt what were the chances of us getting struck by a bolt or two. Both Matt and John laughed and said they have lived in Colorado long enough to know when to be wary of a thunderstorm. I went back to my fishing rod. It started drizzling. Just two minutes later Matt shouted, “get down! Go low!”. Now when one is in the middle of the lake, it is difficult to imagine what we should get low from. Flying fishes? Bullets from the near-by shooting range? I confess I was confused with Matt's exclamations. I looked back to see an equally confused John. We both looked towards Matt who was now lying down at the canoe floor. He whispered, “ I felt static. A lot of it. Didn't you guys hear it?” Simultaneously we noticed his hair were standing kind of erect. Now those of you with a scientific bent of mend will appreciate this. We know that we sometimes get signs where lightning is about to strike. Hair standing on our head, feeling a lot of static energy around you etc etc. Oh wait, thats a coincidence! It took me ten seconds to realize that Uncle Yamraj was near. Another ten seconds of reflection confirmed why. All three of us had these upmarket graphite reinforced fishing rods. Now as luck would have it, graphite conducts electricity pretty well. (Where is a diamond fishing rod when you need one!) So there we were, three idiots, in the middle of a huge lake, during a thunderstorm, pointing three perfect conductors towards the sky. What could possibly go wrong?

Now getting struck by lightning is fine. But being informed a few moments before that you are going to be struck by lightning, is a very different affair indeed. I am sure all of you know that feeling of imminent vaporization. I felt like that piece of sodium which the eight grade chemistry teacher shows around to the class before plunging it in water. The phrase 'sitting ducks' was never more clear to me. Though one part of felt maybe the strike would end up giving me supernatural powers and I could be the next character in Heroes. The worst part was no one knew I was fishing that afternoon. I would undergo a change of state and no one would ever know of it. And even if I survived I would still be in the middle of the damn lake.

That very moment, a bolt of lightning struck right near the shore. Simultaneously our boat swayed sharply to the left. Matt's fishing line was being pulled strongly and it was evident that in the middle of all this melee, we had just caught our biggest fish. Matt, now presented with this conundrum of rowing for his life or getting hold of his fishing line took a quick decision. He chose fish over life. He pulled with all his might and drew the fish close. But then tragedy struck again, the fish turned out to be a huge trout which unnerved Matt further and he let go of the line for a few seconds which was enough for the fish to make its escape. So now we didn't have the fish either and gazillions of electrons could hit us any moment. First thing we did was to stop pointing our fishing rods out and get our wooden oars out. Then the next ten minutes would have done any Onam boatman proud.

On the run

We made it to the shore without getting zapped and packed up the boat in record time and made our way out of there. And we lived to fish another day. Most probably this Wednesday again.

The days final tally

This post is dedicated to Roy Sullivan who survived after being struck by lightning seven times during his career as a park ranger. He finally died after he shot himself over a failed love affair. So the moral of the whole story is you have a better chance with 7 lightning strikes than a woman. May Roy rest in peace. There is another school of thought who believes that a man who could handle seven lightnings but not a woman deserved to die anyway. The reader is free to choose their side.

Try Believing This.

Date: 15th June
Time: Sometime in the afternoon
Place: Pine View Falls, Poudre River, Colorado

People screaming: Sayan,Shantanu,Abhay,Narayan,Vikram.
People not screaming: Melissa, the guide.

TEUTONS FOR DUMMIES.

The lonely planet is a great thing to have when you are in a new place. It’s very difficult to say what is wrong with the book. It lists basically everything. For example who knew that’s its impolite to ask for tap water in a German restaurant. Or Germans when angry lower their voices. Pearls of wisdom indeed. Information one won’t get in the run-of-the-mill travel guides.

But as I soon discovered in the last few days, LP doesn’t give you everything. There are valuable lessons which one learns only when he is finally in the new place. Most of them are learnt through unfortunate personal experiences. So I thought wouldn’t it be a great philanthropic gesture if I took out time from my insanely busy schedule of checking mails and reading news, and wrote down some Do’s and Don’ts for a novice resident in Deutschland.

So here goes.

1. Beer is NOT cheaper than water. All of you who plan to save a buck by having Becks or König-Pilsener after your meals instead of Adam’s Ale, kindly go back to your drawing board. Cheap beer is the greatest myth about Germany. If you want cheap beer, stay in India (which by the way is the greatest country in the world as I now realize. I will never complain about the costs there EVER)
   

2. Nothing is free here. Nothing. My first visit to the supermarket entailed that I didn’t have any carry-bags. I saw a heap of them lying in one corner of the store apparently there to be taken. True to our great heritage, on spotting something apparently free, I grabbed as many as possible and happily progressed towards the cash counter with my trolley. What followed was the unhappy situation of trying to explain to the lady at the counter why I had 6 bags with me while I had just bough sausages and egg. When I was unable to give a coherent reply thanks to my vintage skills in the German language, an unhappier situation followed. I shelled out 6 cents for each of the polythene bags. From then on, I have never touched anything in this country without looking for the price tag.
   

3. Know your football. To be more precise, know your Bundesliga. It’s the easiest way to start a conversation here. First thing I did after I reached here was to mug the current standings of teams. I assure you it will be very helpful. Knowing the players is obviously an added advantage. But be very careful about what you say about teams. Always discreetly find out whom the person you are talking to supports and then base your further statements on that fact. Nothing fuels more passion – and fights than soccer. For example shouting ‘Schalke sucks!’ anywhere near Gelsenkirchen might make things uncomfortable while proclaiming the same thing loudly in Dortmund a few miles away might get you a free beer.
   

4. It’s a bad idea to eat in trams. You might get thrown out. Trust me. I know.
   

5. It’s a very bad idea to travel ticket less in any public conveyance. German police normally don’t see much action and this is the only instance they can assert some authority. So don’t be surprised when you get surrounded by a mini army the moment you are apprehended. In case one does get caught, best line of defence is ‘I just came from India! I don’t know where to get a ticket.’ It always works. But don’t over-do it. There is a high probability you might be saying the thing to the same person twice.
   

6. Always carry your passport. Thanks to out jihadist cousins, there have been too many cases of ‘over-zealous’ officers just doing their ‘job’. This point can be further discussed with Prof V Sundar of the Ocean Dept who had an officer holding a gun to his head.
   

7. In the work-place never claim to know something you don’t. Germans verify everything. I will paste a certain conversation which took place.
   

Prof: Do you know how to use the TEM?

Certain Person we know: of course. I have used it many times before.

Prof: Oh good. Come with me.

Enter a TEM room.

Prof: ok, show me. Use this machine.

Certain Person we know: Hmmmm. Well I meant I have seen people using it many

times before.

8. I was informed by my well-meaning friends that German girls are supposedly easy to score. At this point of my stay, I may grudgingly agree. But what I have realized is that language forms a very important part of the scoring process. You might be at your Sunday best with your Indian charm (!) oozing out but much advancement will be difficult if you are unacquainted with the intricacies of the Teutonic tongue (I refer to the language here. The literal aspect comes in later in stage 3.) English will not get you anywhere. The whole rendezvous will end up looking like the first lessons of the local Helen Keller Society chapter.
   

Lot remains to be told. Especially about the all-important Byzantine Factor. I hope these pointers are of some help to some unfortunate fellow traveller who remains perplexed by the bizarre oddities of this nation.

DARJEELING.

here's something i came across about the queen of hills on the net.

Only in Darjeeling...
...people sit in the dense fog and watch an entire
soccer match, without knowing what the hell is going
on in the field

Only in darjeeling...
...people go to buy laangshyaa and end up watching
carrom for hours

Only in Darjeeling...
..do you walk through the town once, and meet the same
people ten times

Only in Darjeeling....
....do doodhwalas sell milk with less fat than skim
milk

Only in Darjeeling....
....do the unemployed dress up better than the
employed

Only in Darjeeling...
....the best dishes on the menu in any restaurant are
thukpa and momo

Only in Darjeeling....
.....do you find distance in Kilometres and places in
Miles....Chha mile, Dus mile, Baarah mile, Biis mile

Only in Darjeeling...
...can you jump off a train...take a leak.. and catch
the train again...

Only in Darjeeling...
..the prettiest girl always eloped with a driver

Only in Darjeeling...
Boys carry two different love letters in their back
pockets. Nepali and English written

Only in Darjeeling …
Mann mann mai love mann mann mai break

Only in Darjeeling …
a train gets caught in a traffic jam

Only in Darjeeling...
...do you go to sleep with a bottle of hot water for
warmth in winter....and wake up in the morning and
”daant moluus" with the same water.

Only in Darjeeling...
.....people eat iskus ko munta and jara everyday and not get fed up.

Only in Darjeeling...
.....people go to watch the same movie as many as 15 times.

Only in Darjeeling...
....people will spend all day leaning against the paan dokan, chew pan and
exchange humjayga jokes.

Only in Darjeeling...
....jobless playboys manage to keep 3 girlfriends at the same time.

Only in darjeeling...
...people can sit around the "angaiti" the whole night.

Only in Darjeeling...
.... every teenaged student is attending either the Government College or
North Point.


Only in Darjeeling...
.....can a jeep carry twenty passengers.

only in Darjeeling...
... you can take your date for ek rupee ko aloo bhooja wit tittiri ko jhool at bhola...and make her squeal with delight

only in Darjeeling
...a bawoon and a lama sit together at dara
...and pray for the same god

only in Darjeeling
....at hashel hushel
u will find muslims, nepalis, tibetans, biharis
....beating the same drums

only in Darjeeling
......Singamari taxis carry 8 passengers..4 in the front and four at the back
...driver being the 9th gets to drive on half seat....

sevoke........

Sevoke. Will I ever be able to actually grasp the aura of the place? The place beckons me again. And the beckoning brings back all those wonderful memories I have of that place.

The forests.
The river.
The mountains.

The road.
The bridge.
The army trucks.

The tea.
The plate of steaming momos.
The bhutta.

The chatter of friends.
The speeding car.

The sense of solitude and company together.


And me....

Everyone has a place, where when they visit, experience something which inspires them and gives them a sense of peace with oneself. Growing up in a place like Siliguri enables one to view Mother Nature in her full splendor. Whether it is the mighty Himalayas or the enchanting Terai forests or even the fickle rivers, it’s a place which entices the human mind and body. Every time you go, you discover something new. Something more beautiful. For the umpteenth time your convinced that this will be the most beautiful thing you will ever see, only to be proved wrong on your next visit.

Sevoke will always hold a special place in my heart. It might not be the most beautiful place I have been to, but it has some strange stranglehold over my senses. When I am there it seems my life has come to a still. I never want the moment to end. It seems as eternity has set in and nothing can go wrong now…

The drive to Sevoke takes about thirty to forty minutes depending on how fast one drives. Negotiating with the impossible traffic of Siliguri is a challenge I always enjoy. The traffic in the city, like in most Indian cities has absolutely no regard for rules. Yet there is an amazing sense of order in the chaos. As soon as we begin to leave the city limits, one begins to notice the drastic changes in the immediate environment. Houses made of wood on high stilts. Traditional Nepali attire replacing the otherwise predominantly Bengali clothes one sees in Siliguri. More Buddhists monasteries than Hindu temples. This sudden change within a few kilometers make one seem as if he has crossed over in to some other country. But it’s just the suburbs of Siliguri, filled mainly by Tibetan refugees, Nepali laborers and Bhutia immigrants. The nature of siliguri and its surrounding areas is truly very cosmopolitan. Inspite of being the second largest city of Bengal, the city is not predominantly Bengali. Nepalis, Marwaris and Bengalis are the main communities with healthy percentages of Sikhs, Sikkimese and Bihari. All these diverse cultures give the place a unique feel.

As soon as we are out of the city, the omnipresent army camp comes. Siliguri, thanks to its strategic location is surrounded by army camps. It is impossible to leave the city without going through any one of these camps. By the time one weaves through the camps, he will realize that the redoubtable Terai forest has engulfed the area.

The Terai truly is a standing proof of the axiom that the most dangerous things in the world are also among the most beautiful. Driving along the empty road with towering Sal trees on your either side, dense foliage hiding the secrets of the jungle is an experience one has to go through to realize the sense of thrill. On most of my visits I stop the car at one side and listen to the sounds emanating. The pregnant silence interspaced with the clamor of the cicadas. A silence so full of imminent possibilities that you feel like waiting there for ever for something to happen. After a spending a few moments I embark again toward sevoke.

The drive through the forest is a long one. Surprisingly, the road here is always in an excellent condition irrespective of the time of the year. So it makes the drive all the more enthralling. Just when you begin to think that the forest will never end, there emerges a sudden downward slope, the forests clear away as if magically, the Himalayas till then hidden behind the high trees emerge from nowhere and before you lies the most enchanted river you will ever see- the Tista. The sight springs up so suddenly that for the first few minutes a first-time visitor will be struck dumb. Even for a regular visitor it’s not something unattractive. This was the place which we call Sevoke.

Sevoke is placed in an amazing setting. It’s the point where the Himalayas end and the tista makes her first foray into the great plains of north Bengal. There is a railway line running right along the mountain edge and an exquisite steel girder bridge running over the river and connecting the Terai to the Dooars region. A little behind the railway bridge, someway off is the road bridge, also popularly called the coronation bridge. It was considered an architectural wonder when it was first built in 1930 because of the single arch holding the bridge together.

Now something about the great Tista. The Tista is undoubtedly the biggest and most fearsome river in north Bengal. Having its origins in the formidable glaciers on the Sikkim-China border, it winds its way through narrow gorges and valleys in Sikkim before emerging in the plains at sevoke. From their on its gathers in size and goes on to Bangladesh to join the brahamputra.

to be continued.......