tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18503807312203127352024-02-19T22:19:18.712-08:00Solitary ReflectionsPuneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-61388407286898658032013-06-24T05:26:00.000-07:002013-06-25T08:25:55.474-07:00Rupin Pass – A Total Himalayan Blockbuster<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZmkYk4gUhPa3e4CDg__0CS2xCyOkwXbtat6ZsPAhnI4vM2j-zxBPrCTloJ1Eq1Sf-GwFw0sSVhdizaCgmG3OHpCzU16E-hWG0cFqvmN7kejQfv0Dy678Tmi85LFTTmVDOSO0LpxI0Jc/s1600/Deep_awesome_pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZmkYk4gUhPa3e4CDg__0CS2xCyOkwXbtat6ZsPAhnI4vM2j-zxBPrCTloJ1Eq1Sf-GwFw0sSVhdizaCgmG3OHpCzU16E-hWG0cFqvmN7kejQfv0Dy678Tmi85LFTTmVDOSO0LpxI0Jc/s400/Deep_awesome_pic.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> Scenic View enroute to Rupin Pass (Picture Credits: Deepika) </i></div>
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</span><br />
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A Note to the Reader</span></b></i></span></span></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This piece of text has been written in fond recollection of the
experience of a trekking expedition to the Rupin Pass, that I was part of in
June 2013. The trek was organized by <a href="http://www.rupinpass.com/">Indiahikes</a> - a company that organizes
similar treks in various other Himalayan mountains. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A picture may speak a thousand words, but
sometimes I’d rather have the words.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Pictures may be verbose for a while, but we all know that with
time, they fall quiet. That is the reason why I painstakingly took up the task
of documenting in vivid detail an experience that all my trek mates would agree
is one-of-a-kind, and recommended for all the adventure enthusiasts out there.
I hope that you will be able to connect my experiences with your own and in the
process enjoy a mental journey back to the Himalayas - the land of great
mountains, sparkling streams and scenic beauty like no where else in the world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was one of the 17 people who participated in the expedition. The
team consisted of people from various walks of life, having different reasons
for choosing to trek the Rupin Pass. I must mention that there in an inherent
difficulty in threading together everyone’s experiences into a single essay
like this, both for want of space as well as due to the variety in the group.
So, I have written mostly on my own take of various details, while trying to be
faithful to the overall impression of the team on the trek. Finally, I’d like
to say that the pictures included have been clicked by me and my trek mates,
who have generously agreed to share them with me for the travelogue. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><<<<<OOO>>>>></span></div>
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">8<sup>th</sup>
June (Day 1)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">And…
We set off!!!</span></span></h4>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i>From Dehra Dun To Dhaula</i></b></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The pickup form Dehra Dun to
Dhaula was scheduled to leave at 6:30 AM. Due to a chain of unfortunate
incidents, I reached Dehra Dun pretty late – at 9 AM. Charan, the driver and
Soundar, another participant were waiting for me. All others had already left 2
hours ago. So, without further ado, we set off.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLGAVemRhoEOglaE5__ZmDqVXVeGnBTs12yxcJL5bjGEpKPvEzxyFuBbNGtwRTcUqnJE6eBkr6UGXj7db3A-km_hO3V0kq8LebJ2hPLhaZbKG5stebNm_ZCqCKuA7hkDhJQ5g_ImJlFg/s1600/Way_to_dhaula_deep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuLGAVemRhoEOglaE5__ZmDqVXVeGnBTs12yxcJL5bjGEpKPvEzxyFuBbNGtwRTcUqnJE6eBkr6UGXj7db3A-km_hO3V0kq8LebJ2hPLhaZbKG5stebNm_ZCqCKuA7hkDhJQ5g_ImJlFg/s400/Way_to_dhaula_deep.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<i>Pine Forest on the way to Dhaula (Picture Credits: Deepika)</i></div>
<br /></div>
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The ride to Dhaula would take
about 9 – 10 hours the driver said. The route was familiar to me, as I had
traveled it when I was going on a trek to Kedarkanth in 2010. At breakfast we
were joined by 2 other participants - Arul and Ashish, who stayed back in order
to travel in a more spacious vehicle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The driver was a cool guy. He’d
wave to lots of people along the way, and seemed to have a way with women as
well. But, soon we realized he was actually quite a hero. What happened was
this – <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Along the narrow ghat roads, a
Sumo broke its front axle, blocking the route. Within minutes, cars and trucks
got stuck, being unable to maneuver by the broken vehicle. People were abusing
the driver, and suggesting all sorts of solutions but no one could budge the
vehicle an inch. Charan silently filled up a small pit on the hillside of the
road with boulders, and amidst all skeptic criticism, pulled our vehicle free!
I’ll leave it to you to imagine the look on everyone’s face at that point. We
were plain amazed!<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCFIWYqQJHfleYa-3fJhyphenhyphengu9ZBjCBkqec8Q0wZi6TEs-MCIF1_4HyWAWFeQmRlJUZl-sF9WcCoO7HOTWI8TYJ38vTuJjTvnn4tWsE6g-pGdZ2657250k8Z_TF6ebEMv43uA3dtWiy3T8/s1600/confluence_harendra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCFIWYqQJHfleYa-3fJhyphenhyphengu9ZBjCBkqec8Q0wZi6TEs-MCIF1_4HyWAWFeQmRlJUZl-sF9WcCoO7HOTWI8TYJ38vTuJjTvnn4tWsE6g-pGdZ2657250k8Z_TF6ebEMv43uA3dtWiy3T8/s400/confluence_harendra.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>On the route to Dhaula we came across the confluence of the blue waters of Rupin rivers and the murky waters of the Supin river</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>It Starts At Dhaula</b></span></i></span></span></div>
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The Dhaula campsite is situated
at a height of about 5,000 ft. on the banks of river Rupin. We reached the
campsite by about 7 PM. It was still bright, owing to the long summer days. I
distinctly remember my disappointment with the climate – it was as hot as it
was in Delhi. And a variety of insects from the forest greeted us with their
buzz. Before long, the team leader, Vikrant introduced himself to us, and
conducted the first briefing. He was a new recruit, and had some trekking
experience. He seemed to be a cool guy, and I was looking forward for the trek.
We had instructions to leave the camp by 6 AM the next morning, so we retired
to bed early. <o:p></o:p></div>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">9<sup>th</sup>
June 2013 (Day 2)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">From
Dhaula to Sewa<o:p></o:p></span></span></h4>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b>The Trek Begins!</b></i></span></span></span></div>
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A shrill whistle woke us up at 5
AM. Breakfast was delicious. We had puris and chana sabzi. After mild
stretching and warm up exercises, we set off for the trek by about 6:30 AM. The
mules and some of the staff would start in about an hour or 2 and catch up on
the way. The trek was to be along a good 12 Km-long trail through the forest to
the small town of Sewa. If I remember anything about this trail, it is the fact
that it was an undulating path sometimes going up and otherwise going
down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We would go all the way down to
Rupin River, cross it, and then again climb up. One the way, we came came across numerous small waterfalls, that would all eventually end up in the gushing waters of Rupin River beneath. This happened several times,
till we finally reached the village of Sewa. We had hardly gained any altitude,
probably just around hundred feet. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipEi4JxyCttGHeZa5edN3Mkh29b57peXGQmdQNhVt8DAsFX4jmUAMF61C-XcR0GMCwN5IvDkqfpyiNg6fyWvEZECaKaIgtSvS9f3Z6k8QOORjBCLedRhKei1Er9gOoTvrDv2o0buo7tjE/s1600/IMG_0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipEi4JxyCttGHeZa5edN3Mkh29b57peXGQmdQNhVt8DAsFX4jmUAMF61C-XcR0GMCwN5IvDkqfpyiNg6fyWvEZECaKaIgtSvS9f3Z6k8QOORjBCLedRhKei1Er9gOoTvrDv2o0buo7tjE/s400/IMG_0021.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The beautiful Rupin River, which we followed on a large portion of the trek</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyh0D7-rJdeEXWxCQLXSGNRd33acDohCZZtThslh5LdiDT6oc0ZKZ_khq0vbTk1KH2U8n5V6KttGB1hVp7JIXHIWvbtNzptew59X4o4Ul0WTrrPWSTr04bGNA6qiGHnPLBQpuVjcTEzA/s1600/IMG_4477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLyh0D7-rJdeEXWxCQLXSGNRd33acDohCZZtThslh5LdiDT6oc0ZKZ_khq0vbTk1KH2U8n5V6KttGB1hVp7JIXHIWvbtNzptew59X4o4Ul0WTrrPWSTr04bGNA6qiGHnPLBQpuVjcTEzA/s400/IMG_4477.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<i>One of the many waterfalls we saw on the way to Sewa - the waters found their way to the Rupin River</i></div>
<i>(Picture credits: Kaustubh)</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvaUqPWzismWHQi7O6KfETIawvyIK8e2I88YWSCR590Tzwp9ddRR14f1WEQC_CBOrupRzUVOvX7_9DqiNSWjLAPhR4gbC4zyyU3J0Cda9PFPufPchxQkVv0-lth8YOM35sIUShOsqpLiQ/s1600/IMG_4404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvaUqPWzismWHQi7O6KfETIawvyIK8e2I88YWSCR590Tzwp9ddRR14f1WEQC_CBOrupRzUVOvX7_9DqiNSWjLAPhR4gbC4zyyU3J0Cda9PFPufPchxQkVv0-lth8YOM35sIUShOsqpLiQ/s400/IMG_4404.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<i>We hit the 'eagle line' on the way - beyond this, was the zone where "eagles don't dare"</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The Cricket Temple</b></span></i></span></span></div>
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If cricket can have a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">God </i>it ought to have a temple too. I
think I found one at Sewa. While walking through the village, the team halted
next to a temple for lunch. The temple seemed to have been closed a long time
ago – its gates were locked, and presently seemed to function as a vertical
playground for geckos. But what caught my attention was how the temple was
ostentatiously decked with numerous trophies, which, I came to know were won by
the village in local cricket tournaments. I don’t know if it was intentional,
but here I beheld the testimony of Indian love for cricket, which has pervaded
even to the remote villages in the Himalayas. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiyvYWuZ5tyhUxFW3jpGXbbakSyPnoVzd5XFe7QA6j074uS0DW4bASyofqS82qDR4oGQV7P2RHjiz3NwnUW3rFib3Huj5kuxGLKtKU_5i4ov4NmU8NH8NhqJ10heWLIq-LBscul1QF4Q/s1600/IMG_0042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaiyvYWuZ5tyhUxFW3jpGXbbakSyPnoVzd5XFe7QA6j074uS0DW4bASyofqS82qDR4oGQV7P2RHjiz3NwnUW3rFib3Huj5kuxGLKtKU_5i4ov4NmU8NH8NhqJ10heWLIq-LBscul1QF4Q/s400/IMG_0042.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Temple of cricket, trophies the shrines</i></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Innocent outside, poison inside</b></span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The forests had a good deal of
poison ivy, also referred to as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘Bicchu
Ki Kaat’</i>. For those who don’t know about it, it is an innocent looking
shrub whose leaves sting if you come in contact with them. The sting leaves a
characteristic itch, which can be quite annoying. I and many other trek mates
were stung several times, as we inadvertently came in contact with these shrubs
during the walk. The skin grew all itchy, and so I tried and suggested some of
the traditional treatments like rubbing marijuana leaves, metallic objects etc.
just for some psychological relief, for I knew from previous experience, that
only time could heal the itch. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To people who took my advice too seriously, I
am no <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘jadi booti wale baba’. :)</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Camp by the riverbanks</b></span></i></span></span></div>
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We reached the campsite by about
2.45 PM. It was located on the outskirts of the Sewa village, by the banks of
river Rupin. The weather was very sultry, and I felt hot and sticky so, I
decided to go and have a bath at the river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb-E9mGuN0o_Kgy_Qr-cRJlrQs0QbVW53V9CYSxU9OBp3Kss0Bq6Ng_fBu0mgIHlFA_7sQe9ObD-0EoCkG49bZ3QvMAfTNOXiK5nwsy9fEpDVf6JktvA8TiUddhyphenhyphentlQ6QVB8b9Rl6gKLM/s1600/IMG_0047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb-E9mGuN0o_Kgy_Qr-cRJlrQs0QbVW53V9CYSxU9OBp3Kss0Bq6Ng_fBu0mgIHlFA_7sQe9ObD-0EoCkG49bZ3QvMAfTNOXiK5nwsy9fEpDVf6JktvA8TiUddhyphenhyphentlQ6QVB8b9Rl6gKLM/s400/IMG_0047.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><i>Fresh waters of Rupin River at Sewa Camp </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><i><br /></i></span>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiceEddYYyuKuOLj-RbZ_AnTlfSVuaYf-N88vZ1DNuenP3bQZcuTqmd6qoje1tSXBsP56ATwmQpK_tzj8mqEb00MpiObvduzwdO5BSUmK4O0aFMSWJs59qzDo7RJyxzDiLEw0rkrLw007Y/s1600/IMG_4446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiceEddYYyuKuOLj-RbZ_AnTlfSVuaYf-N88vZ1DNuenP3bQZcuTqmd6qoje1tSXBsP56ATwmQpK_tzj8mqEb00MpiObvduzwdO5BSUmK4O0aFMSWJs59qzDo7RJyxzDiLEw0rkrLw007Y/s400/IMG_4446.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Sheer force - Couldn't even think of swimming here</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The setting was almost like that
of a beach. There was fine sand on the bank with large smooth rocks where we
left our clothes and entered the clear river water. Not just clear, but also so
cold! We had competitions about how many seconds could one stay immersed in the
water (just for the record: I did 28 seconds). The currents were very strong
and there were large rocks along the river so we refrained from swimming. But
the fresh cool water restored all the energy we lost during the tiring trek
from Dhaula. For anyone camping at Sewa a visit to the riverside is a must-try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32w5Rh0w8Yhu5p8kC1UX6OWD8iixS5a8VO_up3WcIfULQ8gv8vGti127sRlPSzASml9LNSaA-WBvsHr1V3_wlFV2yDeennBb6XyoV6FQxfnJ-ohOmsU8RT_NoIG_MeY_ZuuOGhBQiMLc/s1600/IMG_4427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32w5Rh0w8Yhu5p8kC1UX6OWD8iixS5a8VO_up3WcIfULQ8gv8vGti127sRlPSzASml9LNSaA-WBvsHr1V3_wlFV2yDeennBb6XyoV6FQxfnJ-ohOmsU8RT_NoIG_MeY_ZuuOGhBQiMLc/s400/IMG_4427.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>It only gets prettier at dusk: The Rupin River</i></div>
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<i>(Piture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Ice Breaking at Dusk</b></span></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Before we got to the real ice,
team leader Vikrant summoned a gathering to break the ‘social ice’. The team
consisted of an interesting mix of people who had a variety of interests in
outdoor activities, sports, travelling, music etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>among other things. We decided to keep
professional interests out of this, since the trip was in some sense an escape
from routine work-life. Among the interesting finds in the team were an amateur
horse rider, a cricket umpire, a lead guitarist, western singer, and an
economist. The trek promised to be loads of fun with these guys. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The session continued after
dinner when a campfire was lit, and everyone assembled around it. People were
still a little reticent, so there was awkwardness about what was to happen.
With some prodding from the junta, I started off with a song <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘Khilte Hain Gul Yahan’</i> and people
(thankfully) caught up and started a sequence of songs of their own choice. Of
particular notice were ‘Aladdin Song’ and ‘Kabhi Kabhi Mere Dil Mein’ that were
enjoyed by the audience, amongst several other songs that the group sang
together. Before long, everyone returned to his or her tent, with anticipation
for the next day, which was going to be one long, long day.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaPByd7gfZePrQSdD8QqpJfisJoIvtNp1xPMGAHyVwoeNZ1zpmCb55CFcLCp9RJOwOa8m6l7s4x7SCy4h8gz7Bsq667rZJMspDGEySUgC0pui1XVykUix-OgWE4-KKKot5y0MBAqVryM/s1600/IMG_4441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaPByd7gfZePrQSdD8QqpJfisJoIvtNp1xPMGAHyVwoeNZ1zpmCb55CFcLCp9RJOwOa8m6l7s4x7SCy4h8gz7Bsq667rZJMspDGEySUgC0pui1XVykUix-OgWE4-KKKot5y0MBAqVryM/s400/IMG_4441.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Good times by the campfire - At Sewa Camp</i></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b>Fitness at the Outset</b></i></span></span></span></div>
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I believe to some extent that
only those who are conscious and concerned about leading an active and healthy
lifestyle participate in treks, probably because others are too lazy to plan
out a trip that drains out their energy so much, as a trek. Our team had a good
level of fitness too, however there was no dearth of injuries to the team
members. Many people had histories of ligament tears, fractures, and ankle
twists. I also twisted my right knee at the Sewa campsite, where I slipped over
some damp grass and fell down. But we did not let the injuries damp our
spirits. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The team and the staff showed
exemplary teamwork qualities by supporting the injured/unwell members, so as to
facilitate speedy recovery to fitness. Even I had my backpack carried by some
friends upon my knee injury, and I owe it to them in some ways that I managed
to complete the trek in good condition. It fills my heart with joy, as I write
these lines, thinking of the warmth of the mutual friendships forged during the
short span of the trek. <span class="Heading1Char"><span style="color: windowtext; line-height: 110%; mso-ansi-font-size: 11.5pt; mso-ascii-font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; text-transform: none;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 110%;">10<sup>th</sup> June 2013 (Day 3)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Jaaka Kab Ayega?</span></span></h4>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Taking Off From Sewa</b></span></i></span></span><br />
The day started with a sharp pang of pain in my right knee - the sprained muscles had become stiff and sore at night. I somehow clambered out of the tent and freshened myself up. I could not imagine how i would be able to complete the trek with my disabled knee, and so was about to tell Vikrant that I wanted to quit the trek. But he came and told me that the pain would reduce if I kept exercising, and dressed my knee up with crepe bandage. Ashish and Arul offered to take turns to carry my backpack as one of them had offloaded his bag to the mules. had it not been for these guys, I might as well have been on my way back that day.<br />
<br />
Initially I made slow progress
along the trail, which moved through the forest on the hillsides. After a short
walk we reached a motor-able road, which took us on a gradual ascent for a
while. Apparently, the roads have to be closed for vehicular traffic from time to time due to
landslides. Even now, the road had been closed, we were told that we would have to cross the landslides on foot.<br />
<br />
Luckily, the sky was cloudy, and we did not have to face the
scorching sun as we walked. The road tortuously took us around the hill.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJ6gxsYdeQKCFCR7Irhf97GZGO5qX1FKpCzZmFq2CvYBFcgB-dBffmMvVSSKU4sFvvgbTOfWrbB3-JHzgMAfnu4N6A-lQpQl2TdhZbmN7Soq3zEvRvlLFW5Plty3-yf84J7fT8PK73CY/s1600/IMG_4466.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifJ6gxsYdeQKCFCR7Irhf97GZGO5qX1FKpCzZmFq2CvYBFcgB-dBffmMvVSSKU4sFvvgbTOfWrbB3-JHzgMAfnu4N6A-lQpQl2TdhZbmN7Soq3zEvRvlLFW5Plty3-yf84J7fT8PK73CY/s400/IMG_4466.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Walking on the motorable road - luckily the weather was pleasant</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="letter-spacing: 1pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Negotiating The Landslides</i></span></span></b></span></div>
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Presently, we came across a
landslide area. The soil was loose, and so were many large rocks around. They
suspiciously had jagged contours, which made me wonder if the landslides were
natural, or if they were caused by controlled explosions, used to chip away
mountainsides for construction purposes. We had to carefully step through these
parts, for any careless step could lead to slipping and falling off the steep
cliff. There were 3 such landslides, and Vikrant and Gajji motivated and even
helped us to cross certain difficult spots.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMBiqW-ZfntpqF9OaqR9ghr3XW9EsH4pURhD00jsMmbWKb_i1gfd560-oc7IrHhmIrvNJtRdoPfaxmvq_QB8myBvAveLkS7ZrqNOFdxmDeaCx8EpOc-ioL7Mh4OF5vuXyjlYrCEcbtzFM/s1600/landslides_harendra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMBiqW-ZfntpqF9OaqR9ghr3XW9EsH4pURhD00jsMmbWKb_i1gfd560-oc7IrHhmIrvNJtRdoPfaxmvq_QB8myBvAveLkS7ZrqNOFdxmDeaCx8EpOc-ioL7Mh4OF5vuXyjlYrCEcbtzFM/s400/landslides_harendra.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Carefully walking over the landslide areas</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: black;"><i>Where is this Jhaka?</i></span></b></span></div>
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The road ended again in a forest
trail, which would take us to the village of Jhaka, where our stay was
scheduled for the evening. The walk to Jhaka was, if anything very long. By the
afternoon, the sun was up and the heat was beginning to dehydrate me. My shirt
was completely damp due to perspiration.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My knee pain had miraculously
subsided (thank God!), and I now carried my own backpack. The trail revealed
more of itself at each bend, and this repeated again and again. It was rocky,
and strewn with mule dung – you can imagine it was not a very pleasant walking
experience. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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After what seemed like ages, I
reached Jhaka, where I enquired about the <a href="http://www.rupinpass.com/">Indiahikes</a> guesthouse. Someone
pointed me to a flight of steps and told me it was just upstairs. I don’t know
what I would think about it now, but at that time, after walking about 14 Km,
each step looked like a hurdle to cross. I dragged myself up the steep steps, stopping
several times for a breather. Once I reached the guesthouse, I unloaded my
backpack and sat down with the group of people that had already reached. We
were served cool Tang (mango flavor), and it made me feel a little more energetic.
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Hillside Cricket County</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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Even as I was recovering from the
long day’s trek, another event grabbed my attention – the inter village cricket
tournament finals, which was scheduled for that evening. And Tripan, who was
one of our guides, was playing on behalf of the village of Sankri in the
finals. All of us decided to go and cheer him in the match. We quickly finished
snacks (Maggi noodles!) and set off for the stadium. It may be more appropriate
to say, ‘trekked’ to the stadium, because that’s what you do when you have to
go from one place to another in Jhaka. We reached the stadium panting, to see
hundreds of men women, and children perched on the hillsides and rooftops
watching the gripping semi-final between Jhaka and Pandari. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEjd59qhzxloEL-GJ7siDqNsx-YDFoaKV_Ca4Rv8AUF7mGurRJvqmbAr4jS09clsSbA4li25svfhyphenhyphen81sifIKIOteCxCh-GuleOJFQMM-s1FAlgFOYAX01LXuK4e2bgWPixRt8GWtdBhho/s1600/IMG_0056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEjd59qhzxloEL-GJ7siDqNsx-YDFoaKV_Ca4Rv8AUF7mGurRJvqmbAr4jS09clsSbA4li25svfhyphenhyphen81sifIKIOteCxCh-GuleOJFQMM-s1FAlgFOYAX01LXuK4e2bgWPixRt8GWtdBhho/s400/IMG_0056.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<i>Hillside Cricket - notice how the offside was a no man zone</i></div>
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<i><br /></i>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJlRNqG0bUOw-PfNE1uvF-lcqmYLKAm6-s4hXfmK3aPq7_VWjA2EWLcod044aGba0UVUEsL3jiHG9tluhffh-385yRJKYQNP8IJ2hI1slqZPnuFLUqc-IPIpiRU9jhTiSQGK77ZNyWtk/s1600/crick_har.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOJlRNqG0bUOw-PfNE1uvF-lcqmYLKAm6-s4hXfmK3aPq7_VWjA2EWLcod044aGba0UVUEsL3jiHG9tluhffh-385yRJKYQNP8IJ2hI1slqZPnuFLUqc-IPIpiRU9jhTiSQGK77ZNyWtk/s400/crick_har.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>View from the box - the leg side was no open area either. Fielders were positioned on the steep slopes on the left side</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmncxg5mlaCKcDg-1M99aPilsSwOyEYT9obVGyRXGINnRJQpr_qJshNhKAJS0cZ7Jo_HvcP29EOvQEMRJZz8P2iCn03O0V3gKFU4GlO7FBTxLarK1L1gOOmHp30qX3uvb7F_K6qGQZC4/s1600/fielder_har.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmncxg5mlaCKcDg-1M99aPilsSwOyEYT9obVGyRXGINnRJQpr_qJshNhKAJS0cZ7Jo_HvcP29EOvQEMRJZz8P2iCn03O0V3gKFU4GlO7FBTxLarK1L1gOOmHp30qX3uvb7F_K6qGQZC4/s400/fielder_har.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Fielder on the hill slope - these guys actually chased the ball and took catches on such terrain</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
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I found some place among the
audience, and got involved with the match. There were runs only on the leg
side, and behind the stumps, since the offside of the ground had nothing but a
steep 20 feet fall. On the leg side, the fielders were positioned on the dangerously
steep hillsides, some parts of which were small cliffs, where careless footing
could lead to a fall and serious injury. The pitch was on a small piece of flat
land, on which there were the batsman, the bowler, 2 umpires, the wicket keeper
and a couple of fielders. But surely the kids of Jhaka were the unsung heroes
of the match – whenever the batsman hit the ball downhill on the offside (which
was very often) a troop of kids would trace it, run downhill and get the ball
back. The enthusiasm and energy level of the kids was impressive, for I would
have given up in no time (even if I were a kid) if asked to run downhill and
fetch the ball on every 3<sup>rd</sup> or 4<sup>th</sup> delivery. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbH3PB_pvo64HvM25ki9VMQDKEGvB8VEmzPJhdgEXsEJvDCYVFWHr57hN2T9sQfkX_Zg1qn2fwHEbT2LSCraz75FWFe1A-pDevntNhtNxNGqPS6y_d-wfgY58LuyGK3-e3GxnI24VWpc/s1600/Me+n+kids_deep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMbH3PB_pvo64HvM25ki9VMQDKEGvB8VEmzPJhdgEXsEJvDCYVFWHr57hN2T9sQfkX_Zg1qn2fwHEbT2LSCraz75FWFe1A-pDevntNhtNxNGqPS6y_d-wfgY58LuyGK3-e3GxnI24VWpc/s400/Me+n+kids_deep.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Unsung heroes - the kids brought the ball back whenever it went downhill (Picture Credits: Deepika)</i></div>
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Jhaka’s game was spectacular.
There were no misfields, no missed catches. The bowlers found their line and
length, and the batsmen were in good form. Before long, Jhaka had dominated and
defeated Pandari in the semi finals. The final was now scheduled between Sankri
and Jhaka.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Motivating the Guide</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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After the semi final, Tripan came
around to the place where we were seated. You could read from his face that he
was a little worried, and with good reason – the Jhaka team was in great form.
Pankaj ji encouraged him with gusto, our team shouted “Tirpan! Tirpan!” to
raise the morale of the Sankri team. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Presently the teams lined up
against each other, and were wished good luck by the village sarpanch. Jhaka
had won the toss and they elected to bat. Sankri arranged the fielders on the
uneven hillside playground while the Jhaka players sat down to cheer their batsmen
next to where we were sitting. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The bowlers put up a dismal show,
to start off with – most of their deliveries were short pitched, and the Jhaka
batsmen spared no loose ball. They hit six after six, while the crowd erupted
into periodic bursts of “We want … Sixer!” and also “Shabba-Shabba!” which is
what it sounds when you say “shabaash shabaash” continuously. By the end of
their innings, they had set a target of 70 odd runs to be made in 8 overs by
Sankri. <o:p></o:p><br />
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It was now Sankri’s turn to bat.
The batsmen reeled under the fierce bowling attack from the Jhaka bowlers. I
remember one of them had a typical Malinga-style bowling - he forced the
batsmen to play defensively. Tirpan went to bat, but was sent back to pavilion
with just a few runs to his credit. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I was supporting Sankri, but
before long, I realized they were fighting a losing battle. Jhaka’s team put up
an impressive show. Each of the players was young, stud-like, with all sorts of
funky accessories like chains, headphones, spikes and what not. Their fitness
was enviable – they were all lean, extremely agile, and muscular. I pit them up
against an obese city lad of the same age, leading a sedentary life, and could
easily see how the absence of McDonalds, KFC, and Pizza Hut could make people
so healthy. <span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VWy7sq6711E25yOgytId4LQKecc5cEv3FEK1oEytRTCZFdnRyIRsJ7q5JziwrL4CQ1iYHYTzYnhNza-SDLeAMu47lruJLAM6cHxBad_bJCh9SqSt7OxFjcEEqJhdvaUrwtLQnWfJ_wM/s1600/IMG_0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4VWy7sq6711E25yOgytId4LQKecc5cEv3FEK1oEytRTCZFdnRyIRsJ7q5JziwrL4CQ1iYHYTzYnhNza-SDLeAMu47lruJLAM6cHxBad_bJCh9SqSt7OxFjcEEqJhdvaUrwtLQnWfJ_wM/s400/IMG_0075.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<i>Posing with a Jhaka Cricket Player</i></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Next Time, Better Luck</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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A roar from the crowd and the
Jhaka team told me Jhaka won the match. Tripan looked really disappointed. He
came over to me and told me that Jhaka had an undue home ground advantage – <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Wo toh bachpan se yehi ground me khel rahe hai!”</i><o:p></o:p><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrj_DfSNoYsjUkHmfz9suZ1GfSogDSrdj8_YC6Qqe0nfkpr6oRXBYzK8GjztUyUbwHhGIEjTpd28-MpfSbsuqOsL9DyZ_9HmZdVncQLTjgByHCY6FHnaMMiy_LIHIyTAuSHacEKb9_V1g/s1600/970064_10201437838936981_819603831_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrj_DfSNoYsjUkHmfz9suZ1GfSogDSrdj8_YC6Qqe0nfkpr6oRXBYzK8GjztUyUbwHhGIEjTpd28-MpfSbsuqOsL9DyZ_9HmZdVncQLTjgByHCY6FHnaMMiy_LIHIyTAuSHacEKb9_V1g/s400/970064_10201437838936981_819603831_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>Jhaka did have home crowd support, after all!</i><br />
<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></div>
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I knew how he was feeling, and
kind of patted his back at that. Meanwhile, some local folk songs began to play
on the loud speaker and the kids assembled on the ground to dance, while the
Jhaka players proudly roamed around, being congratulated by people. We
requested some Punjabi songs, and Tanmayi came over to the center and danced
while everyone watched. The graceful dancer that she is, she sure did receive
many compliments, especially from the guys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We returned to our guesthouse chatting about the match and how it was
such a unique experience on the trek. I had an early dinner, put my batteries
to charge (electricity is available at Jhaka) and retired to my sleeping bag. <span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoTitle">
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">11<sup>th</sup>
June 2013 (Day 4)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">Ahead
We March, To Saruwas Thach...<o:p></o:p></span></span></h4>
</div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Belated Beginning</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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It rained all night in Jhaka, and so our departure was
delayed. It was not so much of a concern, since the scheduled walk for this day
was just about 8 Km long. As we waited for the rain to subside, I noticed 2
tawny mountain dogs, ambling playfully around the guesthouse. I played with
them for a while, till it was time to leave. We set off for Saruwas Thach at
about 8:30 AM.<br />
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lENGY35g2wrFJfDnVP6OblvOdLy4_mQ-vWeYn2qCL-4K8HidLQXjtiz2Pe1vCgg1f0Xz2OovZYY08G55qKUfkNTKyFX7AnxBN9UTE-TqnXcQLXX9UNjq-i74cxTzAPMJlz7h7lfADLI/s1600/IMG_4522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1lENGY35g2wrFJfDnVP6OblvOdLy4_mQ-vWeYn2qCL-4K8HidLQXjtiz2Pe1vCgg1f0Xz2OovZYY08G55qKUfkNTKyFX7AnxBN9UTE-TqnXcQLXX9UNjq-i74cxTzAPMJlz7h7lfADLI/s400/IMG_4522.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<i>One of the tawny mountain dogs - they were so playful and jovial!</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
<i><br /></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">First Encounters with Ice Patches</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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After about an hour, we reached the first ice patch. The ice
patch had broken at different points due to melting. It was not possible to
walk over the ice patch without risking further breaking, so the only course we
could take was to cross it from beneath. Gajji cleared up the route with his
ice axe and then we entered the cave-like underside of the ice patch. I can
only say - experience it to know how it feels! <o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijs18nmLGtsWc0igK1nGax7YMxOZ1yQDnUgeY4K0E0G5rtewvx_0zcxnZKtmfCzdXjxWl3cRzh9MJtCDXXPQe9u0tsGRtFGU079GA23BlznPcJgJjXu2Wmmx3YFMIOg-u-N0UHBdlCrdk/s1600/under_ice_harish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijs18nmLGtsWc0igK1nGax7YMxOZ1yQDnUgeY4K0E0G5rtewvx_0zcxnZKtmfCzdXjxWl3cRzh9MJtCDXXPQe9u0tsGRtFGU079GA23BlznPcJgJjXu2Wmmx3YFMIOg-u-N0UHBdlCrdk/s400/under_ice_harish.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Crossing the ice patch from beneath!</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harish)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujGgV4KeklM0piUu0HTyYOs4Tvywkp5s6ivjC0x2Aft7bTmGiHr5DMTD1-D8mFBnig5qQB2Eh_aluyASK73FOgFSkckEZciqMAIVtBCclMjrgGEdBYFSJ_Q8BXkHMrq2V85y86FIK0G0/s1600/Under+ice+Patch_har.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujGgV4KeklM0piUu0HTyYOs4Tvywkp5s6ivjC0x2Aft7bTmGiHr5DMTD1-D8mFBnig5qQB2Eh_aluyASK73FOgFSkckEZciqMAIVtBCclMjrgGEdBYFSJ_Q8BXkHMrq2V85y86FIK0G0/s400/Under+ice+Patch_har.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Under the Ice Patch!</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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We crossed 2-3 other ice patches after this part and
progressed towards the campsite. The weather was beginning to close, so we
walked faster. We reached the campsite by about 2:30 PM. The campsite area had
a large number of rhododendron (buras) shrubs, with a bloom of white
rhododendrons. The first thing that crossed my mind was that the shrub cover
would provide good privacy for morning ablutions. Even as the tents were being
pitched, cold wind accompanied by rain started blowing. I pulled out my poncho
to escape the rain, and waited for the tents to be fixed so that I could occupy
one.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9c2cPcH85dPK3dZPbZy439cSOFtD2_svRcqNKDJ5ZM7qafjKuhqk3VjI1RCR3HmVqyeIALe9pG0fh_vKJ3VQwrLpq3asBMmoohlBHPmdT64lHuyeFfSDrZG6rd6XgjZRzvAFao0c-750/s1600/IMG_0093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9c2cPcH85dPK3dZPbZy439cSOFtD2_svRcqNKDJ5ZM7qafjKuhqk3VjI1RCR3HmVqyeIALe9pG0fh_vKJ3VQwrLpq3asBMmoohlBHPmdT64lHuyeFfSDrZG6rd6XgjZRzvAFao0c-750/s400/IMG_0093.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> One of the several Ice patches on the way up</i><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6FpyNnIgQf784PWWTM-QtVVjlEMNtlyB1KGxF0CTHrK38-sL32RC2cBP76Hd8O_su5x9tecj0yHt5nq7SZm_M9rAQ1VJFoFqp-GMy9bY0dTFXH1prGz1EMSuDpgFz8xX3ExZWzUbyes/s1600/IMG_4598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6FpyNnIgQf784PWWTM-QtVVjlEMNtlyB1KGxF0CTHrK38-sL32RC2cBP76Hd8O_su5x9tecj0yHt5nq7SZm_M9rAQ1VJFoFqp-GMy9bY0dTFXH1prGz1EMSuDpgFz8xX3ExZWzUbyes/s400/IMG_4598.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Misty surroundings of the Saruwas Thach Campsite</i></div>
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<i>(Photo Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB24hyphenhyphen4etr6pXh6caT06iy7tuf35wuPP6BoTGhUXXJQQQ1zlpPcplfKR8D0NPnGdfo9jWroccbi0NDvK1I_LYxawUIPiHMVLnVcOYbptqmH8j_QXMt_nO4fYHJGMzdiZa8EjeJmF1b6bA/s1600/Rhodo_har.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB24hyphenhyphen4etr6pXh6caT06iy7tuf35wuPP6BoTGhUXXJQQQ1zlpPcplfKR8D0NPnGdfo9jWroccbi0NDvK1I_LYxawUIPiHMVLnVcOYbptqmH8j_QXMt_nO4fYHJGMzdiZa8EjeJmF1b6bA/s400/Rhodo_har.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Rhododendron or Buras - The squash prepared from these flowers is healthy and tasty</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
<i><br /></i></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Evening Pastimes</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even though it was raining, the weather was fine indeed –
people wanted to be outside, rather than inside their tents. Tripan pulled out
a smiley ball, and 4 of us started playing handball with it. Soon, more people
joined, and what started out to be a fun game turned into a serious game with
teams, score and matches. The ball would some times go downhill, so special
fielders were in place to stop the ball in case it was hit too hard. After a
while, we started playing 1-tup-1-hand cricket with the same ball, using a tree
branch as a bat. We had a lot of fun playing.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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All the players were so engrossed with the game that no one
realized how cold the weather was. After the game was suspended, I suddenly
realized that I was shivering all over and that my fingers had gone all numb
due to the biting cold winds. I ran up to my tent, and put on my some warm
clothes, cap and gloves and sat there for a while, rubbing my hands together,
before I felt a little warm.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN1M0VveCzuHdzcyDc0J_crvvD1pEnbWnmxbc4n9TTDMDeqVILUx_QV9D7c7Dee3nFScgKyQ9TvRJhh_bvYwiJpkxMQdylpWXvsgh8rNnJaIUdqmMFQ7uuDw-EXsH4f-Mvc6FxsoYI2A/s1600/gully_harish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN1M0VveCzuHdzcyDc0J_crvvD1pEnbWnmxbc4n9TTDMDeqVILUx_QV9D7c7Dee3nFScgKyQ9TvRJhh_bvYwiJpkxMQdylpWXvsgh8rNnJaIUdqmMFQ7uuDw-EXsH4f-Mvc6FxsoYI2A/s400/gully_harish.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>1 tup 1 hand cricket with a branch</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits : Harish)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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Meanwhile, a campfire was being readied, and people
assembled around it to keep warm and even to dry some of their wet clothes.
After a while everyone assembled around the campfire to play a cheerful game of
antakshari. Not just cheerful, but also sporty and spirited. Both teams
displayed good teamwork while shouting “bhendi – bhendi”, “gana phoda” etc.
(inspired by Pankaj ji) to each other, but while singing songs, sometimes, just
as low as a hum. Before long, it became evident who was winning, and the
whistle inviting us for dinner blew, the game was suspended for having dinner.
I had some Jeera Rice, and dal, and followed it up with delicious gulab jamuns,
as dessert. I’ve come to appreciate the efforts made by <a href="http://www.rupinpass.com/">Indiahikes</a> to maintain
quality as well as variety in the food they offer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After dinner we continued the game of antakshari for a while
before getting back to our tents to retire for the day. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<div class="MsoTitle">
<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<i><span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">12<sup>th</sup>
June 2013 (Day 5)|</span></span></i><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; font-size: 11.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;"><i>Camp
That Seemed Not Too Far...</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></h4>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Get Set, Go!</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Light rain hit our tent top, as the morning whistle sounded.
It is daunting to get out of the tent when it is raining outside – your body
just wont cooperate. Somehow I got out of the tent, washed my face freshened
up, when I heard the breakfast call. And what was for breakfast? Pasta and
Pancakes – now who would have expected that! We had a quick breakfast and set
off for the next camp – Upper Waterfall. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><o:p></o:p></span></b><br />
<br /></div>
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About 15-20 minutes into our walk, Tripan showed me the
upper waterfall, at a distance, and told me that is where we would be camping
for the night. At first sight, the Upper waterfall was a magnificent cascade of
what looked like pristine milk pouring down the auburn cliffs in the
background. I remember Kaustubh’s cryptic humor at this – <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(Waterfall toh mil gaya) “Ab gai dhoondhni padegi” <o:p></o:p></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
One thing I remember vividly is,
that the waterfall looked quite close by. The small rock on the top where our
campsite was to be was also clearly visible. As if he read my mind, Tripan told
me, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Dikhne me toh paas lagta hai, lekin yeh toh bohut door padega”<o:p></o:p></i><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Indeed, the day’s scheduled trek
was over 10 Km long. It became even more evident after I noticed that the
undulating trail tortuously took us towards the destination ever so slowly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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At the first halt point, I came
to know that 2 of our teammates had opted out of the trek, as one of them was
unwell. They were a very friendly and energetic couple, and we missed their
company to the top. I hope they will be back one day to scale the summit. <span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<br />
The trek on this day was marked with a sudden change in the background setting – the forest line was replaced by a grassy and rocky riverside terrain. A variety of himalayan floral vegetation added tints of bright color to the otherwise dull green texture of the ground. The waters of the river were of a brilliant blue color – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘Cerulean blue’</i>, I remember telling one friend. We took a short break at this point, and filled up our bottles. I tried throwing stones into the river at a skew angle, so as to make them bounce on the surface of the water (my best was 4 bounces, throwing downstream).<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMBq4JRVzlgTJ8ZisxEdIMLSH4Zvr2uZlFefUE8_wKyL_riYswyt-uPGhlgis9Mf1Z5ZDiucT51WbVMcrgq36KObRx2itwrRiNJIekHiRqVww2blTtl1ufk6-BfuQqCQLTaecG-G2-v8/s1600/flowers_kaustubh.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMBq4JRVzlgTJ8ZisxEdIMLSH4Zvr2uZlFefUE8_wKyL_riYswyt-uPGhlgis9Mf1Z5ZDiucT51WbVMcrgq36KObRx2itwrRiNJIekHiRqVww2blTtl1ufk6-BfuQqCQLTaecG-G2-v8/s400/flowers_kaustubh.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Small shrubs now replaced the large trees as we walked ahead</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM77xUzkNOUZYydk8Jhh5_LMA39DswB4B4cHhT9FU-Q-GIYhv_ImuSP_f9iQG3NESHwnKf61DQNkhMX69C3RAoCJ-Jef51UfeQPoQuN_j2BmXb4If3MtUW1UdB3zyeezF4NerAV5Qtqyk/s1600/IMG_4648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM77xUzkNOUZYydk8Jhh5_LMA39DswB4B4cHhT9FU-Q-GIYhv_ImuSP_f9iQG3NESHwnKf61DQNkhMX69C3RAoCJ-Jef51UfeQPoQuN_j2BmXb4If3MtUW1UdB3zyeezF4NerAV5Qtqyk/s400/IMG_4648.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>"Cerulean Blue Waters"</i></div>
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<i>(Pitcture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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The walk led us straight into the scenic Rupin Valley, a long U-shaped alley sealed by mountains on either side. The Rupin River flowed down the Rupin valley, as we walked up. On the far end, facing us squarely was the Upper Waterfall. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TBi9JVt2GvSU4XuY47hyphenhyphenx-LT4bAC-PZsjxZJVeHcY6LZ8gPNjZmFIZyZ4OqIcn80gso_9YN77Vfi9T3Qvnb4fnFmmHbi9cZxRKM9_kVwZ0RsCeGw8I5kRkUihWViwyiKlMZh5GvgD6I/s1600/IMG_4686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_TBi9JVt2GvSU4XuY47hyphenhyphenx-LT4bAC-PZsjxZJVeHcY6LZ8gPNjZmFIZyZ4OqIcn80gso_9YN77Vfi9T3Qvnb4fnFmmHbi9cZxRKM9_kVwZ0RsCeGw8I5kRkUihWViwyiKlMZh5GvgD6I/s400/IMG_4686.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>The scenic U-Shaped Rupin Valley</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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After about 2 hours walk, we
reached the first of the series of ice patches we were to cross for the day’s
trek. The ice patch, I noticed, had broken up, leading to a deep chasm, a fall
into which would mean cold, helpless death for man or beast. We actually saw an
unfortunate cow that met this fate, as it lay lifeless in the crevasse. It
warned us once again, that any careless step could lead to a fall, bringing the
curtain down, in a rather unpleasant manner.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9DjFlEImbLDVN4fKjLJYld-LpSgy73nCvohWoNzI0T-C9T7jbAUSMHRRMNi5rXWCCDhK1jtbk3T_U_2cBGMzFTf6Zla2CtXpZEOrlRs5X2nAa3NyTfEHSGRsgkH6rOxRU_lwDVLmC5Q/s1600/IMG_0099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9DjFlEImbLDVN4fKjLJYld-LpSgy73nCvohWoNzI0T-C9T7jbAUSMHRRMNi5rXWCCDhK1jtbk3T_U_2cBGMzFTf6Zla2CtXpZEOrlRs5X2nAa3NyTfEHSGRsgkH6rOxRU_lwDVLmC5Q/s640/IMG_0099.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<i>The unfortunate cow, takes a little effort to spot it</i></div>
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Presently, we reached a vast ice
patch. It looked daunting, especially because it was so steep – I’d put it o be
over 60º. We were given crampons and crash helmets for this part. The steep
climb lasted for a memorable 20 minutes. The reduction in oxygen levels due to
the altitude gain was evident now, as we ran out of breath every few steps. As
we struggled overt the ice cap, a ram joined us along and happily trotted up
the ice patch, as if it were just walking over flat land. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“4 feet, better control”</i>, I thought. <o:p></o:p><br />
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The crampons gave us very good
grip on the ice – all we had to do was to dig our feet right into the ice, and
they would stay secure. The leading members dug footholds, while the trailing
ones had to carefully walk over these, making sure they did not obliterate the
footholds while walking.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The ice patches along the trail
were interrupted by intermittent stretches of steep, rocky trails. Putting on
and removing crampons is a cumbersome task, so we would walk on the rocks with
the crampons on. I remember this being a little tricky – the steel teeth of the
crampons hardly gave any grip on the rocky turf. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6oEGhdjauHgJIQI12IjY1Zj87KLjHKBz7ALbydluLQjDfehJV_i2-ycIJ8zVtNYj7xzM1_55nH3ZuIldz2fokFIdaYNip2zn9_a-5abBSdirSqv8K33EO-Ok6SutFROvP7zBk6_epCTM/s1600/IMG_4704.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6oEGhdjauHgJIQI12IjY1Zj87KLjHKBz7ALbydluLQjDfehJV_i2-ycIJ8zVtNYj7xzM1_55nH3ZuIldz2fokFIdaYNip2zn9_a-5abBSdirSqv8K33EO-Ok6SutFROvP7zBk6_epCTM/s400/IMG_4704.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<i>Our 4 legged friend has no difficulty walking on ice</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJQGVg8Q31YTD1v0F1U3aGzyBFgYh_w-ucY7GkMYZiy0l1RobTI11zG5wGE7ojtjqZ6p93E_tQpZgF2NIEV41PUicmuLKiaYxT6FjVOOH0tbDDdFr332McutgyTU0ODLmoxSZGXQ3VslA/s1600/IMG_4706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJQGVg8Q31YTD1v0F1U3aGzyBFgYh_w-ucY7GkMYZiy0l1RobTI11zG5wGE7ojtjqZ6p93E_tQpZgF2NIEV41PUicmuLKiaYxT6FjVOOH0tbDDdFr332McutgyTU0ODLmoxSZGXQ3VslA/s400/IMG_4706.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<i>Our 2 legged friend also has no difficulty walking on ice: presenting - team leader Vikrant</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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By about 1 PM in the afternoon we had reached the lower
waterfall. It was a spectacular sight. I saw how water vigorously rushed down
the steep hillsides and moved subcutaneously to the ice patch, eventually
finding its way to the main Rupin River, that we had been following. The
colossal Upper Waterfall stood right in front of us, with all its magnificence.
Much closer that we were to it, I was able to understand and appreciate its
dimensions, and why it looked so close from Saruwas Thach, and still took so
much time to reach. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOxWF0_ZrZs7vPh1OdbsStnvrWuUvZLsHj254JCoM54mM0_OC0KKlzy4i3PoCyCEm5SsE7m6iopoYxsoucVTWB2HLpT6g1kklWdYB-PgjH9DILjNwjJ1wz8gz7jVwCnJm74X8tUgA0t0/s1600/IMG_0116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAOxWF0_ZrZs7vPh1OdbsStnvrWuUvZLsHj254JCoM54mM0_OC0KKlzy4i3PoCyCEm5SsE7m6iopoYxsoucVTWB2HLpT6g1kklWdYB-PgjH9DILjNwjJ1wz8gz7jVwCnJm74X8tUgA0t0/s400/IMG_0116.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>The magnificent upper waterfall</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvX1j0DEvlRsPyCVKWWAS-3zcFblhyphenhyphenN8sQBlHhPnlTt1JNchrdOb_TQFNrVB27mCoZkXoleMsO09Ie5QvonNvw56Cq3zyu-pMtBfdI7f_4g5t2Ddjh_GG3Gz0uBTQ-FwHVVXXucm9JZUo/s1600/IMG_4713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvX1j0DEvlRsPyCVKWWAS-3zcFblhyphenhyphenN8sQBlHhPnlTt1JNchrdOb_TQFNrVB27mCoZkXoleMsO09Ie5QvonNvw56Cq3zyu-pMtBfdI7f_4g5t2Ddjh_GG3Gz0uBTQ-FwHVVXXucm9JZUo/s400/IMG_4713.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Ashish and the Upper Waterfall</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkhy9k2EU-OzgchKlfxmVFPX6ZDekzMgxvtzxFy1Tc6KhV6O_dcfu7YgtozP77nc58wRqlADbUHyJdYO1pF6hRP0WMj96PmwsYHgvNjOsVZR2y4DS2fzVbG2GEqzdwPrl9xqBpK14AUw/s1600/Upper_water_har.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSkhy9k2EU-OzgchKlfxmVFPX6ZDekzMgxvtzxFy1Tc6KhV6O_dcfu7YgtozP77nc58wRqlADbUHyJdYO1pF6hRP0WMj96PmwsYHgvNjOsVZR2y4DS2fzVbG2GEqzdwPrl9xqBpK14AUw/s320/Upper_water_har.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Upper Waterfall up close</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
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We kept climbing, gaining altitude quickly, in this portion.
After about an hours climb, we reached the campsite. It was situated by the top
of the Upper Waterfall, on a flat area, with soft grass and spots having bright
purple, blue and yellow flowers. The DSLR guys pulled out their cameras, eager
to capture the scenic beauty abound. The background was studded with views of
steep rocky mountains sides covered with ice patches. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Nature’s Own Kaleidoscope</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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The title in a way signifies how the scenes at the Himalayas
keep changing from time to time, sometimes surprising and throwing the beholder
into awe, at how nature achieves these feats. You can’t help, but be
exhilarated by the entire sensory overload - the beautiful sceneries, the balmy
mountain breeze, the refreshing taste of flowing water from streams, and the
gush of the waters flowing that still rings in my ears. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGncDLIF_ez-_KhB1KIMM3uPFmGM0ud-ZlPgcGFDS0G03emEkfk-o1mr89PLwhNlbLor4UuBUwKY5hMPZucEvoUPo3y_nc6tnXjs6j0WGjFgkSelKe_-MC69tVy09HiGfqGP39E3z9n4g/s1600/deep_rainbow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGncDLIF_ez-_KhB1KIMM3uPFmGM0ud-ZlPgcGFDS0G03emEkfk-o1mr89PLwhNlbLor4UuBUwKY5hMPZucEvoUPo3y_nc6tnXjs6j0WGjFgkSelKe_-MC69tVy09HiGfqGP39E3z9n4g/s400/deep_rainbow.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Spotting a rainbow! (Picture credits: Deepika)</i></div>
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Sorry about the digression, but I thought it made sense
here. It was beginning to get a little cold there, so people decided to play
volleyball. The local camp guide took charge of the whistle and did some
pro-quality umpiring of the volleyball matches that ensued. The matches went on
till snacks time, when we were served Act – II popcorn. By this time, it had
started raining, and the sun shone bright ant clear on the western front.
Everyone searched the skies for a rainbow, and there it was – strung up across
the mountains in a vivid patch of colors. <o:p></o:p><br />
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At dusk, the rain had stopped. The setting sun's rays now caressed just the mountain tops, leaving the lower regions gradually growing darker. The mountains wore a glazed look due to the interplay of diffuse sunlight, ice cover and the mist. Some of these moments were captured in some brilliant shots by my friends.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSGqxeUrivcpKEE5_4UfMqD_4qrYCXcEnmD8oSUdJx2KW_6DljZmbTIdpXBli0h-4wU0V8yEztuegZlqUvElPOEnUkpex91bAf0kaRUcaeT1WlVTbeMaQ66iLjAYoHQCRy3jKoO-2HVQ/s1600/IMG_4768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxSGqxeUrivcpKEE5_4UfMqD_4qrYCXcEnmD8oSUdJx2KW_6DljZmbTIdpXBli0h-4wU0V8yEztuegZlqUvElPOEnUkpex91bAf0kaRUcaeT1WlVTbeMaQ66iLjAYoHQCRy3jKoO-2HVQ/s400/IMG_4768.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<i>Spectacular photo taken from the top of the upper waterfall</i></div>
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<i>(Picture credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYmmDOT3vCMgbtIWnGvnxmTcAmZvq_Gs-U2NY88be-b7LObTQ9oyS490_qxzSt0pYEWmNgPC5B5IcnY2zLqcVLDvsMaj7RlIwxeSQRyw7HVqzeY2b4GX19wD2EoMOdwxUmWSooNYwSi8/s1600/IMG_4808.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYmmDOT3vCMgbtIWnGvnxmTcAmZvq_Gs-U2NY88be-b7LObTQ9oyS490_qxzSt0pYEWmNgPC5B5IcnY2zLqcVLDvsMaj7RlIwxeSQRyw7HVqzeY2b4GX19wD2EoMOdwxUmWSooNYwSi8/s400/IMG_4808.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<i>Sun rays caressing the mountain tops at dusk</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrXMxQubkehlmV9avpX8XeLjwbDoRrVdcNeeXdp9SFOoyiK0XqW5FSnSxbWGRgMcSC6Zv79LPDt02aVE8xbBXVAx_8Qas46UOQrrxDwPrMLEznKY5iPMELMbyiiuPdMI5_287RyJl1iBU/s1600/IMG_4819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrXMxQubkehlmV9avpX8XeLjwbDoRrVdcNeeXdp9SFOoyiK0XqW5FSnSxbWGRgMcSC6Zv79LPDt02aVE8xbBXVAx_8Qas46UOQrrxDwPrMLEznKY5iPMELMbyiiuPdMI5_287RyJl1iBU/s400/IMG_4819.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Dusk at Upper Waterfall</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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After sundown, the Himalayas look different. Wont say more, I'll just show you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2X4sm-qdiRPxZLZXRCItDRPkJbMLQ_LGKdcSkCTfYxjbfvK7JnRnknT7BD-MoXvZnEMxfjaB0150_4HAewO7DqTz-pkLCFUKUMgNr5Qo9ZCHx9wQDtV9fXzyYzwVuh_kTYj-yeaGU7E/s1600/IMG_4846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2X4sm-qdiRPxZLZXRCItDRPkJbMLQ_LGKdcSkCTfYxjbfvK7JnRnknT7BD-MoXvZnEMxfjaB0150_4HAewO7DqTz-pkLCFUKUMgNr5Qo9ZCHx9wQDtV9fXzyYzwVuh_kTYj-yeaGU7E/s400/IMG_4846.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Reddish Sky after sundown</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfV4TMhn4fWz4mkvdxsOYbuOSWfbg50K-28pGBd65Q5x6-gPPP_hSS2q7HOUwuPme_Wjs-O_6NJEiqXB1s6EO9JKmOWwt8Qbki05GWeXFRbLfZJ6iErT9LJRSzZ6giEACAMcYyUAaSdN0/s1600/IMG_4868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfV4TMhn4fWz4mkvdxsOYbuOSWfbg50K-28pGBd65Q5x6-gPPP_hSS2q7HOUwuPme_Wjs-O_6NJEiqXB1s6EO9JKmOWwt8Qbki05GWeXFRbLfZJ6iErT9LJRSzZ6giEACAMcYyUAaSdN0/s400/IMG_4868.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Star studded skies from Upper Waterfall Camp</i></div>
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<i>(Picture credits: Kaustubh)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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At Upper Waterfall camp, we were at a height of about 13,000
ft. The following day, we were scheduled to touch the summit (15,250 ft.) and
then race down to Ronti Gad, situated at a height of about 12,000 ft. After
sundown, I had a quick dinner, spent some time singing songs and retired for
the day.</div>
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<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 110%;">13<sup>th</sup> June 2013 (Day 6)|</span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Passing the Pass<o:p></o:p></span></span></h4>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Set to Summit</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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I got up to the sound of mild rain on the top of my tent. I
got up with anticipation, excitement and a little pain in my knee. Rain delayed
our departure by about an hour – started off from the camp at 7.30 PM.
Initially, the trail took us through grassy hillsides, and then lead us on to
the first ice patch for the day. We crossed it easily without crampons, as it
had a mild upward slope. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Rupin Pass – A Total Himalayan Blockbuster</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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We trekked for 2 more hours, before we reached left with the
last 3 patches of ice – The Rupin Pass. The pass was, if anything, a little
disappointment in the beginning for me. It was just a narrow tract of ice
between two brownish mountain cliffs. But that’s what passes are supposed to
be, anyway. So I put on my crampons, and started walking on the ice patch, like
all other ice patches I had done earlier. I had no idea of the surprises the
Rupin pass had in store for us.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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As we slowly walked up the ice, a small rock rolled down
towards us from the cliffs. It did not hit anyone, but sent a wave of
apprehension through the junta. There were some shouts in warning, and the next
moment I noticed a number of rocks rolling towards us down the slope. Being
struck by any such rock could be fatal, due to sheer momentum the rocks had as
well as the fact that they could knock you off balance, sending you tumbling
hundreds of feet down into a fatal fall. People ducked and dodged the rocks,
but now there was an air of panic. Even the staff seemed worried about it.
Gajji ran up and secured a rope at a point with his ice axe to speed up the
progress of the people. The ice had started melting, making it slippery, and
difficult to walk. It was a particularly scary situation, where rocks could
launch themselves at you at any time, and your footing does not cooperate with
you for balance. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHEG1g2kic0r_Pnmqwwv_zj-fEdQ9vNp53Ha0M1eS1qCYnbImWjEk57Rxy1OW3KRqggPBc-DO-D84HpXtU69L_kt7jR8zyN-dLSYebKfJCM4iQwDo0J3KwjubA6s0s_k7NxSLxUwEw9E/s1600/Rupin_pass_har.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHEG1g2kic0r_Pnmqwwv_zj-fEdQ9vNp53Ha0M1eS1qCYnbImWjEk57Rxy1OW3KRqggPBc-DO-D84HpXtU69L_kt7jR8zyN-dLSYebKfJCM4iQwDo0J3KwjubA6s0s_k7NxSLxUwEw9E/s400/Rupin_pass_har.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Climbing to the Rupin Pass - The rocks on the left cliff were could roll down on us any moment</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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And then, I saw Varun slip. He was about 6-8 meters ahead of
me. He skidded downwards, right towards Ankit and me. People around me were
shouting something but I had no idea what. My mind was filled with some sort of
buzz – I had to stop Varun. I turned myself on the spot, dug my pole as hard as
I could into the ice and stood squarely to his progress arms stretched to stop
him. In normal situations, turning around on the spot on a foothold in the ice
usually makes you skid downwards, but somehow none of that happened. Varun
collided right on to me and Ankit and we took impact with resilience. His
crampons hit my fingers, which started bleeding, but I was unaware. Gajji
rushed to the spot and helped Varun up. Varun was totally freaked out. Even I
was scared. We put each step cautiously, on each foothold. It was becoming more
and more important to reach quickly as more rocks began rolling down the
slopes. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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The weather was now bitingly cold – anyone now walking could
feel the chill getting to his deep insides. We used the rope to reach a secure
spot on the ice patch and then scurried ahead into the pass. As we climbed
along the mountainsides, I noticed how the wet sand was unstable, and was
basically being eroded by the melting snow and winds, causing loose rocks to
tumble down the steep slope. Climbing over the slipping earth with crampons was
a different challenge altogether. I remember how I’d put my foot over a certain
rock, and it would immediately start skidding along the slope, leaving just a
couple of seconds for me to either pull my leg off or clamber over the flowing
earth. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Despite all the adversities, we made steady progress up the
acclivity, and after negotiating a couple of relatively smaller ice patches,
finally reached the top, which was marked by numerous stone columns, built by
people who visited the place. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">On Top of the World</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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I ran up with some sort of wild energy at finally making it
up to the summit. 15,360 ft. – that was the altitude I was at. I left my
backpack on a rock and sat down, gasping for breath. After a few minutes, I
started observing my surroundings. Besides the din and cheering (“shabba
shabba”) at every person who made it to the summit, there wasn’t really much to
see here – a dense fog surrounded us on all fours, pretty much blocking our
view of all the surrounding scenery. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAcbmSrji1WYFuLGq_nfi-NbW1-YvC4T7N3hJpKAdzk8YulPP3iuigEWEbTu2vubpuhOOHeyRkDQur2vZfXH-1jTMI_Gc3Kf2RY8B0eACc062DMI9kSrLmkyX5rIvlW7lwHwbF8ae2XeQ/s1600/Rupin+Top.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAcbmSrji1WYFuLGq_nfi-NbW1-YvC4T7N3hJpKAdzk8YulPP3iuigEWEbTu2vubpuhOOHeyRkDQur2vZfXH-1jTMI_Gc3Kf2RY8B0eACc062DMI9kSrLmkyX5rIvlW7lwHwbF8ae2XeQ/s400/Rupin+Top.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Introducing to you, our team at the summit! (Picture courtesy: Harish)</i></div>
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<i>Front Row Left to Right: Pratyush (aka Gillete Man), Tanmayi, Puneeth (me!), Rajveer (newbie guide), Shashi (Local guide)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Second Row L to R: Gajji (covered up), Harish (aka Brand ambassador for Volini), Deepika, Raaj (aka gujju bhai), Harendra (aka repeater), Pankaj (aka Umpire sahab), Sourabh(aka most eligible bachelor), Ashish K, Tripan (aka 53), Soundar (aka Heart Break Kid)</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Third row L to R: Arul (aka legal guy) , Siddharth (aka Iron Man), Varun (aka Gudsawaar), Ashish V, Kaustubh (aka Silent Killer)</i></div>
<br /></div>
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The staff members broke a coconut and lit some incense
sticks at the summit as a form of prayer. Many photographs were clicked, and
before long, we were ready to ‘pass the pass’.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">No Theme Park Got a Slide Like This</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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It was time to take a course down from the summit. We walked
a little on the snow with our crampons. Presently, we reached our first
glissading spot. Basically, you get down on your backside, and slide away to
glory on these steep icy slopes. Initially, I was a little skeptical because I
was worried that I would get my tracks wet and that I would feel cold, but
seeing others go for it, I decided to give it a shot. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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So I sat down on the ice, and looked down steep slope. I
could not see where the track went, for it vanished into the dense mist that
covered the hillside. I was still thinking about all this when Vikrant
brusquely pushed me down the slope. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1850380731220312735" name="_GoBack"></a>I experienced sudden
thrilling acceleration down the icy track, which was far from being smooth and
frictionless like in physics problems. I had expected there to be a lot of pain
in the backside due to the rough ride, but in contrast, there was hardly any
pain. There was only numbness. I knew my back would take its own sweet revenge
for manhandling it, in due course of time. There was little I could do about it
at the moment. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdhZPZbRSVRTLqjBhx54FMNyEDzOVOJhMgcr1aE-mPmZa5kdHjtYznKEIYWfKJEszai4dReNDgfvKLnjMMk3QJBv3SwkxgzHTd6-Zhzixu70jGsetRMkRyXJnHIOWowJfcNlTcIdx3i8I/s1600/Glissading_har.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdhZPZbRSVRTLqjBhx54FMNyEDzOVOJhMgcr1aE-mPmZa5kdHjtYznKEIYWfKJEszai4dReNDgfvKLnjMMk3QJBv3SwkxgzHTd6-Zhzixu70jGsetRMkRyXJnHIOWowJfcNlTcIdx3i8I/s400/Glissading_har.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>No theme park got a slide like this!</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harendra)</i></div>
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<br /></div>
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The ride ended in a blazing 20 seconds, and I stood up and
dusted my tracks of the ice. It was fun, I must admit. I walked a few meters,
and then saw another steep slide. I was a little more ready this time. But the
ride was a little crazier this time – half way down, I noticed that I was
sliding towards a large rock jutting out along my way. I managed to evade it,
but in the process completely distorted my posture, and began sliding on my
side rather than bottom. I stopped about three quarters down the way, in a
rather awkward position. Even as I was straightening up, I noticed another
person emerging out of the fog sliding fast right towards me. His crampons
could rip my clothes, at the speed at which he was moving. I instinctively
lunged to one side, and the weight of my bag pulled me down further, and I
rolled further down the slope. Glissading is pure adrenaline rush!<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Rapid Descent</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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After this, we were back on our feet and continued our
progress downhill. For once, I felt desperate to get back to the camp and relax
my tired body, but the trek for the day was far from getting over. We walked
down ice patch after ice patch, going around mountain after mountain. After
about an hour, the ice patches disappeared. I remember asking the staff how far
the camp is, and they’d say “just around the corner”. But every corner crossed
for about 2 hours was a disappointment. There was light rain, so I had my
poncho on, and walked as fast as my feet would carry me along the rocky trail. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Finally, after what felt like hours, finally the campsite
came into view. I ran again wildly for it, reached a tent, put my backpack
away, and sprawled into the tent. It was all over. I had successfully scaled
Rupin Pass. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Post Summit Siesta</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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Most people stayed in the confines of their tent. Some of my
friends had fallen asleep and I was in no mood to fall asleep so I loitered
around for a while and went into a nearby tent where people were discussing the
events of the day. We had a nice long conversation about the trek, the whole
experience and spirit(s). The weather was still quite cold, and by my memory
very foggy. I would like to cite Pratyush for his characteristic brand of humor
here:<o:p></o:p></div>
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‘Why is Ronti Gad so
‘Misterious’?”<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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After dinner I again got together with some friends and we
sang songs from a variety of genres ranging from melodramatic musical romances
like “<i>didi tera dewar deewana</i>” to Indie pop like “pari hoon main” to cheesy Anu
Malik numbers like “<i>yeh kaali kaali aankhen</i>” and also the choicest “<i>GMD</i>” and
“<i>BC Sutta</i>” on popular demand. I retired to my tent by about 10.30 PM.</div>
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<h4 style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 110%;">14<sup>th</sup> June 2013 (Day 7)|</span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">Anti-Climaxing to Sangla<o:p></o:p></span></span></h4>
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<span class="NoSpacingChar"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-family: "Tw Cen MT"; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Journey back to Civilization</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got up a little late the following morning. We purchased
T-shirts as memorabilia for the trek. We set off for the day’s walk by about
8.30 AM. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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The day’s walk had 3 distinct parts: one above tree line,
one through the forest, and last through the village of Sangla. As we walked
down the rocky trail, we came across numerous streams, which we had to cross.
At many points, the trail forked into 2 different routes and we used arrows on
the ground as indicators for the correct route. It was quite a task to ensure
people did not stray away from the trail in their enthusiasm to reach Sangla
soon.<br />
<br /></div>
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It was a long monotonous walk. The stream crossings, the
long rocky trails, murky paths, and at times even the stray cows tested our
patience. Once we hit tree line, the trail changed into a forest path, which
took us on a course of rapid descent. The quick descent was strenuous to the
knees and toes, which throbbed in pain with every step.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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As we approached Sangla, we saw more and more signs of
civilization – a pipeline, a JCB, and even a school. Some of the trees in this
region were huge, both height wise and girth wise. A quick estimation on a
particularly thick tree revealed the circumference of its trunk to be round 22
feet! <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">That huge! </i><o:p></o:p><br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></div>
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Rajveer joined me here, and handed me some wild berries,
which tasted sharp. Our reaching the village of Sangla was marked by crossing
the roaring waters of river Baspa, that flows through the village. I found from
Vikrant that the water was murky due to rains, and it is fit for consumption in
the months of November and December when the rains subside. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkPDSf-GsbyXXb89pkfOq9IPaFO1uFnVtYkGsXHF2v-vmHqC6GMLuXw4EeBKBhaxGI4shsD1TjWV0VRcFUDXZq-1FcnFsdqT_uJv1q8Ypo6VRcsa-vGISF_bOtELR1JPsf0ZkNvTWgc8/s1600/IMG_0150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkPDSf-GsbyXXb89pkfOq9IPaFO1uFnVtYkGsXHF2v-vmHqC6GMLuXw4EeBKBhaxGI4shsD1TjWV0VRcFUDXZq-1FcnFsdqT_uJv1q8Ypo6VRcsa-vGISF_bOtELR1JPsf0ZkNvTWgc8/s400/IMG_0150.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<i>Back to civilization - Reaching the town of Sangla</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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The town of Sangla had all features of civilization –
plastic and litter all around, dust and noise due to construction work etc. The
day’s trek as one friend put it, brought us from heaven back to hell: <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>“Jannat se Jahannum
tak” </i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once in Sangla, we had to climb from the River to the
guesthouse. We reached the guesthouse by 2.30 PM and got into well-furnished
rooms with pucca bathrooms. So much for my experience trekking Rupin Pass, with
<a href="http://www.rupinpass.com/">Indiahikes</a>!<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgef6O_6hvnOOcSUO6eUnAF30JV7CgMYPB_RYGS7VN4bxcVR14KaCVcRxgtXL6tmZflnJdetjz6uCIzmT6QNit4tAQm3ueR_VJ5AZefdiyemK6FIsibHxNx9gZ6oX7B7qzHG02rA7_WmRo/s1600/team_back_harish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgef6O_6hvnOOcSUO6eUnAF30JV7CgMYPB_RYGS7VN4bxcVR14KaCVcRxgtXL6tmZflnJdetjz6uCIzmT6QNit4tAQm3ueR_VJ5AZefdiyemK6FIsibHxNx9gZ6oX7B7qzHG02rA7_WmRo/s400/team_back_harish.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Our team after the trek - Energy levels still going high!</i></div>
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<i>(Picture Credits: Harish)</i></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6;">Retrospect</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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In retrospect, I feel that the trekking expedition at the
Himalayas is somewhat a humbling experience. The trek brings out nature’s vibrancy
and beauty in a different dimension all together. What we miss out in our daily
hustle and bustle at homes is probably priceless and can never be created or
purchased, whatever be the amount of progress in technology or economy. I
realized that with all my education, and qualification, I was may be a little
more than an illiterate in those mountain trails. The knowledge of the local
guides and the people living there and their intuitions about the weather and
other things were as accurate as precise scientific judgments. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What kind of textbooks have they studied? None! I guess
that’s nature’s own way of teaching her sons to sustain in this beautiful
creation. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I shall sign off here with a bow to Bholenath ji (lord
Shiva), for letting my teammates and me finish the trek successfully, without
any hassles and a note of congratulations to all my companions for making it to
the top.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment--></div>
Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-20649429636185252382012-10-26T06:13:00.001-07:002013-08-24T03:24:01.121-07:00Chronicles of Roopkund<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
Chronicles of Roopkund Trek<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(October 2012)</div>
<div class="MsoSubtitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt;">“A peek into one of the most intriguing Himalayan treks”</span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0TMR6pKLUldx4wnF1Dvo1kG_SgluFcKuumaeMSBgM3uWyhuxgWlQMABY3HvVtX0o9os6RTM-L_XYPVThyphenhyphenJowlKk2GV0GRe-jP7jQd7ipjNHEsRxSdwAWDBBuqr1OoUoNLFwSUtIIUGh8/s1600/Himalaya.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0TMR6pKLUldx4wnF1Dvo1kG_SgluFcKuumaeMSBgM3uWyhuxgWlQMABY3HvVtX0o9os6RTM-L_XYPVThyphenhyphenJowlKk2GV0GRe-jP7jQd7ipjNHEsRxSdwAWDBBuqr1OoUoNLFwSUtIIUGh8/s1600/Himalaya.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Team At Roopkund!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h2 style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;">A Note to the Reader</span></span></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar">This piece
of text is a personal recollection of the experience of the trekking expedition
to Roopkund (13th October 2012<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- 19th
October 2012) with <a href="http://www.roopkund.com/">Indiahikes</a>, an enterprise that conducts similar expeditions
in the Himalayas. A total of 18 people (including me) were a part of the team.
The rich experience of going on such a high altitude trek inspired me to
document the various details of the trek for the benefit of others who wish to
trek to Roopkund and also as a fond recollection of the trek for those who
already had an opportunity to be there. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar">With a group
as a large as the one I was in, there is an inherent difficulty threading up
everyone’s experience to create an over all description, since there is a lot
of variation in what each of us got to see and the way we reacted. So, I have
written mostly about my own take on various details, and I hope you will be
able to associate with my writing. Finally, I’d like to mention that none of
the pictures included have been clicked by me. I conveniently left my camera at
home for this trek. I have mentioned the source of the photograph wherever
required. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar">The cover
photo shows our team at the summit. The names of people in the order they
appear in the photograph are:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="NoSpacingChar">Back Row:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar">(L to R):
Deep Satyawali (a.k.a. Shortcut Man), Shakti Suryavanshi (a.ka. Hyderabadi),
Vipul Vasistha (Team Leader), Gautam Deshpande, Chirag Anand (a.ka. CA), Arvind
MA, Rajesh Parmar (a.k.a Commanderji),<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="NoSpacingChar">Front Row:</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar">(L to R):
Nitin Joshi (a.k.a. Panditwa), Saikat Adak (a.k.a. Ustad), Rahul Negi,
(standing; a.k.a. Photographer), Utpal Yadav (a.k.a. Gabbar Singh), Dhanijee
(local guide), Vikas Parte (a.k.a. munni badnam hui?), N.C. Puneeth (standing; that’s
me!), Priyamvada R (standing; a.k.a. tiger lady) and Sujith S.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><<<<<OOO>>>></span></div>
<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">13<sup>th</sup>
October 2012 (Day 1)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">And…
We set off!!!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<h2 style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%;">From Katgodam to Lohajung</span></span></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
I had arrived at Katgodam at midnight on 12<sup>th</sup>
October. After a good night’s sleep at the KMVN hotel near the railway station,
I checked and re-checked my bag and set off to the railway station where the
team was supposed to gather at 7.30 A.M. Some of the team members had already
assembled there. In half hour’s time the whole team had assembled at the
railway station. 18 people from different walks of life and different regions
of the country… an interesting team up. A tempo and sumo were booked to take us
to Lohajung. The journey would take about 8-12 hours, the driver said. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The ride to Lohajung was long and tortuous, if anything. If
you are prone to motion sickness, I’d advise you to keep <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Avomine </i>tablets with you on this journey. We stopped at a
restaurant named Hotel Hill View for breakfast. Then we moved along the path to
Bhim Tal, where there was a magnificent lake. Then came Almora, Kasauni, and
then Deval. The man behind the transport vehicles was Mr. Raju Shah. We changed
to a car at Deval and proceeded to Lohajung. It was about 8.30 P.M by the time
we reached the <a href="http://www.roopkund.com/">Indiahikes</a> base camp at Lohajung. It is located at a height of
about 8,000 ft. </div>
<h2 style="font-family: inherit;">
Lohajung and Gearing up for the Trek:</h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The first thing I noticed back at Lohajung was the black sky
studded with thousand of stars. We city dwellers certainly miss this spectacle
every evening owing to all the pollution and lighting. In the backdrop appeared
a bleak, yet majestic sight of Nanda Ghunti, a virgin peak. Before dinner, we
had a briefing session by Mr. Ayan Brahma, who was the camp leader. The talk
kind of cautioned us against the various possibilities that could occur during
the trek. We were advised to purchase requisite gear in case we did not get it
already. The temperature at the camp was about 10ºC that evening. The weather
was very pleasant. </div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniNgbu9UynUN3vDKNnqsb_pq2YoEFl1CbGePRiDqUTJLS8G41FTgUs6bUuQUU_wQOWNna9qdJo445wiQwetpmXUufCzqIEInZOmH-4xLvAXxQuZEqxNUj7mU7mNrBe-_kj2hyphenhyphen1KQlIRI/s1600/DSC00846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgniNgbu9UynUN3vDKNnqsb_pq2YoEFl1CbGePRiDqUTJLS8G41FTgUs6bUuQUU_wQOWNna9qdJo445wiQwetpmXUufCzqIEInZOmH-4xLvAXxQuZEqxNUj7mU7mNrBe-_kj2hyphenhyphen1KQlIRI/s1600/DSC00846.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Base Camp, Lohajung (Photo Credits: Rahul Negi)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16pt;">14<sup>th</sup>
October 2012 (Day 2)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">March
to DIDINA…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">The Trek Begins!</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The next morning we were woken up at 6.30 A.M. Breakfast was
delicious. We had puris and jeera alu. After another briefing about AMS and
mild stretching and warm up exercises, we set off for the trek by about 8.30
AM. The team leader Vipul is an energetic guy, and he takes control
immediately. Some of us had our rucksacks on the mules while the others were
carrying them. The destination for the day’s trek was a small village named
Didina, which was located at almost the same altitude (8,050 ft.), but on a
neighboring mountain. To reach there, we had to go down about 4 kilometers into
the intervening valley and then climb up to Didina which was about 5 Km long.
We could see the place but it seemed so far away. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Short Halt at Culling</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The initial walk was along a rocky path, and it presented us
with picturesque views of various mountains at a distance – we could spot Mt.
Trisul, Nanda Ghunti and some other hills around. From time to time we had to cross
several streams of flowing water along our path. After walking about an hour we
reached a small village called Culling. This was our first halt point for the
day. I raced up the steep steps of a temple there to catch a glimpse of the
mountains and valleys around. One can take fine photographs of the step farming
along hillsides from this spot. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Fill Up Your Bottles at Neel Ganga</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The rocky road gradually took us on a mild descent as we
entered the woods. We were told that the next stop would be at Neel Ganga,
which would be the lowest point of our entire trek, which is about 3 Km form
Culling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
On the route, we were shown a particular shrub and warned of
its sting. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Ye dekha? Ise Bicchu
ki kaat Kehte hain! Isse sambhal ke rehna, ye kat leta hai to 2 din tak khujli
hoti rahegi…”</i> I distinctly remember our team leader instructing us. I guess
I remember this so well because no later than a minute that he warned us, I
felt a sharp sting at the back of my left hand. And it seemed he had described
the effects pretty well. I was advised to protect the portion (stung) form
moisture. People started experimenting all sorts of traditional methods like
rubbing metallic iron, marijuana leaves (yes, the same weed… and they’re found
in plenty over there!) and what not to no avail. I guess it simply needed its 2
days to heal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The walk lead us down to a large iron bridge (called Raun
Bagad) where people stopped to take pictures of the surrounding
woods. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
As we descended along the trail, the sound of flowing water
got louder and louder and we finally caught a sight of the clear waters of Neel
Ganga. The sight of water certainly boosted my energy levels. We filled up our
bottles and crossed the stream.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHl2NdqIpUowOcsP7Du6Vrl2EfnHHOCQzNbQuGUiC5DdWAe4eX3mmyH_ALm81uMivefenYIazSmSmYUbCF3uYp17rjGuWlE1CsRF96uZFv6_-nvWmmWhl1tfmr-P2pAhCC1Amz5kizIY8/s1600/DSC00878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHl2NdqIpUowOcsP7Du6Vrl2EfnHHOCQzNbQuGUiC5DdWAe4eX3mmyH_ALm81uMivefenYIazSmSmYUbCF3uYp17rjGuWlE1CsRF96uZFv6_-nvWmmWhl1tfmr-P2pAhCC1Amz5kizIY8/s1600/DSC00878.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sparkling waters of Neel Ganga (Picture Credits: Rahul Negi)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Ascent to Didina – The Teaser</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then we began a
gradual ascent towards Didina. The walk was supposed to be around 3 Km long… <span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis">just 3 Kilometers. May be I was out of touch, or may be
I was simply not up to it, but found the climb very tiring. In an hour’s time,
I was literally panting and out of breath. I’d ask the guide, how much more,
and he’d say just one more kilometer. </span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis">“Ek kilometer sir, bas pouch
gaye!” in Dhani-ji’s own words. </span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis">But that single kilometer
seemed to never end. The route was steep and rocky through the woods. After what
seemed like hours, we reached a small village. A yellow poster there read</span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis">“Loved Roopkund? Try Rupin pass”</span><span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="MsoSubtleEmphasis">What Irony.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Didina – Camping in a Village</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
As soon as we reached Didina, Maipat Singh-ji, who owned a
guesthouse where we were staying for the night welcomed us. They served us with
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Buras </i>or Rhododendron flower squash,
a brilliant red liquid that was refreshingly energizing after the trek. Some
one pulled out a cricket bat and a ball and we played the typical gully <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">one-tip-one-hand </i>cricket on the hill
slopes till the ball was lost in some bushes yonder. In the evening, there were
some ice-breaking sessions, where we got to know each other better after a
round of introductions from every one. Every one seemed to have his own reason,
his own passion that pushed him to take on this trek. Most of the people turned
out to be IT professionals or finance people. I guess the IT guys really need
some time off for themselves anyway. And, what can be a better way to spend a
break than in nature’s own lap in the Himalayas!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7BQrbPXpupJQNNCSTDuqx5P4b3S0vJrSdmHWfFKV1LJu8uj1mHuK-neXIA523ptI2MSVWDqdvXtxFycJ9A3wsORdTl75PF_t0c0k3XZoaqYKgRRpM7qgA_8bjt88ITyneoRb5EgPqVY/s1600/CSC_0023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_7BQrbPXpupJQNNCSTDuqx5P4b3S0vJrSdmHWfFKV1LJu8uj1mHuK-neXIA523ptI2MSVWDqdvXtxFycJ9A3wsORdTl75PF_t0c0k3XZoaqYKgRRpM7qgA_8bjt88ITyneoRb5EgPqVY/s1600/CSC_0023.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Didina, at 2500 meters This was the first Camp site. (Photo Credits: Shakti Suryawanshi)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
This was the last point where electricity was available
(they used a generator set) and so, there was light in the evening as well. The
guide showed us the hill right behind Didina village where we were supposed to
climb the next day. I had to look almost skywards to spot the top of the
mountain that was just the mid point of the trek schedule for the following
day. It would be a nice little hike tomorrow, I thought. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
Some people were busy clicking pictures, while I chose to
play UNO cards with some of the others. Dinner was served at about 8 PM. It was
the birthday of one of our team members, and she was made to cut a special suzi
cake on that occasion. Man… I’d kill to have such a birthday celebration! By 9
PM we were all in our beds.</div>
<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">15<sup>th</sup>
October 2012 (Day 3)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">A Stroll in the Meadows...</span></span></div>
<span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 15.0pt;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Taking Off From Didina</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The next morning, I woke up by 6.30 AM and freshened up. I
brushed my teeth with salt, because it was hard to wash off toothpaste froth, as
there is no sewage facility. After a quick breakfast we set off for the day by
about 7.30 A.M. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The trek started off with a steep climb up a rocky trail
through the village leading us gradually to the hillside. I clearly remember
this day’s trek having two distinct parts. The first part was the trek till Ali
Top, which was mainly through the woods, where we followed a course with
moderately steep ascent. This part of the trek left us gasping for breath due
to continual ascent. The trek leader had to literally motivate us by saying
that food will be served at Ali Top. By about 11 A.M. the woody forests
vanished suddenly, and all around me was a vast meadowland that seemed to
stretch all around me. The climb seemed to get steeper and steeper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is convenient to keep walking diagonally
along steep hillsides to reduce the gradient so that you don’t get burned out.
I did just that, and finally, after what seemed like ages, I arrived at Ali
Top.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Ali
Top</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
May be I should rephrase that – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I hobbled into Ali Top.</i> And what I get to see filled me with awe. I
forgot all my exhaustion and gaped at the pristine beauty of Mt. Trishul right
in front of me, with all its magnificence. I reached Ali Top much ahead of the
others, and was able to witness it against the bright and clear skies. I pulled
off my shoes and walked barefoot on the soft grass. No brand of carpet grass
ever feels like what I felt while I trampled over the soft dew laden grass
there. Experience it to know what it feels like. That’s all I can say!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
Mountains certainly seem to have a mood of their own. Even
as I was watching, swirling dark clouds appeared and covered up Trishul,
quickly obscuring the view. They covered up the Sun as well and chilly winds
started blowing over the meadows. We had finished the climb for the day, and
the trek to Bedni Bugyal from Ali Top was simply a 5 Km walk without
significant height gain. The weather was closing, so the team leader ushered us
to move ahead as quickly as we could. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifIjKjJYI1tWjLToh7SBaikWWH6ZLizqsQ2Z4jCYxK-wcFcO-5iE_YlqDFyX1HPwyN7IwruVhACHarv2lEcfIyCbN3KdjbBOFVgPu-Kxc5VNHkMQZttU1g3RMwyD64GkVw0ShRyGu0YT8/s1600/DSC00903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifIjKjJYI1tWjLToh7SBaikWWH6ZLizqsQ2Z4jCYxK-wcFcO-5iE_YlqDFyX1HPwyN7IwruVhACHarv2lEcfIyCbN3KdjbBOFVgPu-Kxc5VNHkMQZttU1g3RMwyD64GkVw0ShRyGu0YT8/s1600/DSC00903.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Ali Top! The Meadows start here! (Picture Credits: Rahul Negi)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Ali to Bedni (Bugyals!)</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
In this part of the trek we had to move along a trail set
across mountain ridges. The trail actually moves through Ali Bugyal that is one
of the largest high altitude meadowlands in Asia. Together Ali Bugyal and Bedni
Bugyal form a pair of twin meadowlands, which stretch over several acres of
land. As we walked I saw numerous sheep, grazing at the hillsides. The sounds
made by these grazing animals are still fresh in my mind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
Even as we were walking, the weather seemed to get worse.
The chilly winds continued and out of nowhere, suddenly small hailstones
started falling from the sky. We stopped at a point and put on our ponchos. The
walk to Bedni Bugyal may not have a lot of ups and downs, but it surely is one
long walk across the mountain ridges, and it took us a good 2 and half hours to
complete. It was during this walk that Dhani-ji told us the story of Roopkund.
I guess it’s a good idea to take a detour here and give away some details of
the legends and stories that the locals believe in. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">The Legend Of Roopkund </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
Like many other mountains in the Himalayas, Roopkund is also
treated as a very holy place by the locals of Gharwal. Legend has it that Ma
Durga killed the demon Mahishasur at Bedni Kund, which is a lake in Bedni.
After killing him, she rode her tiger and up to Bhagwabasa (which is a further
up the trail) and walked bare foot till another lake where she took a bath as
she was feeling very dirty after killing the demons. The lake has come to be
known as Roopkund from the fact that while bathing she saw her divinely
beautiful reflection on the clear lake waters. From there she walked up to
Mount Khailas to join her consort, Lord Shiva. Thus, the people of Gharwal have
treated Roopkund as a very holy place since ages. <br />
There is however a more recent and rather dramatic incident that the locals
here believe has occurred. They cite this to explain the large number of human
and animal skeletons and bones lying around Roopkund, which can be seen even
today. Radio Carbon dating reveals that these belong to around 850 <span style="font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 110%; position: relative; top: 4pt;"><img height="17" id="_x0000_i1025" src="file://localhost/Users/puneethnc/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0/clip_image001.png" width="11" /></span><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: HGPゴシックE; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>30 AD. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: HGPゴシックE; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">So Dhani-ji tells us this story as we walk towards the Bedni
campsite. I shall write a few lines in his own words, in fond recollection of
his unique way of narration of stories – </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: HGPゴシックE; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">“Hazaron
sow saal pehle ki baat hai jab Kanauj ka ek raja hua karta tha. Wo bohut
ghamandi tha. Apne saare sena, biwi, bacche lekar wo yahan pe devi ka darshan
karne aa gaya. Par who bohut ghamandi tha sir-jee….”</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: HGPゴシックE; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Long ago, apparently there was a proud king of the Kanauj
province who conducted an<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>expedition
to Roopkund to please Goddess Nanda Devi (Parvati). He traveled along with his
army, his courtiers his wife (who was pregnant then) along the same path we
were supposed to take, to Roopkund. In all his arrogance, the king was very
careless in upholding the sacredness of the place. Despite of repeatedly facing
bad omens, he continued his journey to Roopkund. Legend has it that he forgot
to offer his evening prayers enticed by his three royal danseuses. This
infuriated the Goddess and she burned three holes under the feet of these
dancers to bring the king back to his senses. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: HGPゴシックE; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">In another incident, the queen gave birth to a baby in one of
the caves near Roopkund. In Hindu mythology, birth is an unclean event, and the
King had been arrogant by bringing his wife to deliver the baby in the Goddess
Nanda Devi’s holy abode. The pregnancy ended in a miscarriage taking the lives
of both the queen and the baby. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: HGPゴシックE; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Even after all these warnings, the adamant king continued his
trek to Roopkund with his army. Finally, when he reached the lake, the weather
changed abruptly and there was a hailstorm with hailstones of the size of
cricket balls. The unprotected army of the king perished under the impact of
the hailstones, which an be seen even today, as the bones appear broken due to
strong impact of some hard substance. Apparently, the king was the only person
who survived the hailstorm, and Goddess Parvati appeared before him and cursed
him that people of his race would have to visit the lake once in every 12
years, barefoot, clad in rags and with inadequate food supplies. Ever since, it
has been a tradition to conduct the Nanda Raj Jat Yatra once in every 12 years.
It will be conducted in 2013 next. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: HGPゴシックE; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">This is a broad outline o the story of Roopkund. More tidbits
will be added to these tales at relevant points. Now lets get back to the walk
to Bedni Bugyal.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Camping at Bedni Bugyal </span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
As we descended towards Bedni Bugyal, the hail stopped,
revealing clear skies once again. We reached Bedni base camp at about 2.00 P.M.
in the afternoon. The camp was a pretty sight with colorful tents pitched at
various spots. There were 3 huts, one of which was used for kitchen and cooking
while the other two were available to us for stay. As we arrived we could see
the staff playing cricket and volleyball on the slopes. I’d have joined them,
had I not been so exhausted from the walk. Lunch was served soon, and after
lunch we started exploring the surroundings.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw0HE1FbLdc-_A9XnScEiAfmFKTJKZwB-odtrkgn99ZAdv2hDcMed4gVWMgIRvohxeSh1n8Qq_DnhXYA3u1pW_iZEfLXzR1y8vCHfAKfUYZGrVvL9Xk10anQ-RQv4QTExquwTiZloBVpw/s1600/DSC00946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw0HE1FbLdc-_A9XnScEiAfmFKTJKZwB-odtrkgn99ZAdv2hDcMed4gVWMgIRvohxeSh1n8Qq_DnhXYA3u1pW_iZEfLXzR1y8vCHfAKfUYZGrVvL9Xk10anQ-RQv4QTExquwTiZloBVpw/s1600/DSC00946.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture of the Camp at Bedni Bugyal (Courtesy: Rahul Negi)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
Being in a high altitude meadow was a unique experience in
itself. You’ll find acres and acres of area under grass cover all around and
mules with bells tied around their necks keep grazing the grass there. The
bells were literally chiming all the time. One could capture spectacular
photographs of several snow-capped mountains from Bedni Bugyal. On one side was
Mount Trishul, and Kali Daak. Then you can spot a small part of Nanda Ghunti.
Farther apart were other splendid mountains like Bandar Poonch, Hathi Parbat,
Mrig Toli etc. In the evening, mixing hues in the sky produced a brilliant
purple tinge, which was reflected by these mountains at the horizon. Lasted
just a few minutes, but was certainly a treat to the eyes!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
In the evening we walked up to Bedni Kund, which was on a
nearby hillock. What I saw there was one of the best views in the whole trek.
The clear waters of the kund reflected the magnificent Mount Trishul, which
shone resplendently in the sunlight. This is a must-see for everyone who camps
at Bedni Bugyal.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6kMHncfI0w0N02fO1UMvUt2qRkIUoMC5RJDrcSY5FTsGh0Xp3HkllfteLSZipyVLg4X2opOpT767wsXjSro1CLCLDhf4K__ViwrqO260X1TUTNxkT5Vc5bOiTy7Luaf-hhcDSEpkmcOo/s1600/DSC00999.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6kMHncfI0w0N02fO1UMvUt2qRkIUoMC5RJDrcSY5FTsGh0Xp3HkllfteLSZipyVLg4X2opOpT767wsXjSro1CLCLDhf4K__ViwrqO260X1TUTNxkT5Vc5bOiTy7Luaf-hhcDSEpkmcOo/s1600/DSC00999.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The eye catching scene of Bedni Kund Reflecting Mount Trishul. Thanks Rahul Negi For this one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We played UNO till there was some light and had our dinner
when it was served. People were beginning to know each other better, and the
evenings were the best time to discuss various interesting topics. The sight of
the distant mountains raised up my spirits and I looked forward to the next
day’s trek. </div>
<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">16<sup>th</sup>
October 2012 (Day 4)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">From
Green Grass to White Snow…</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>
Wading Through the Bugyal</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
I had a nice night’s sleep and felt fresh the next morning. It
was quite cold outside. I’d put the temperature to be around 4-5ºC. I went over
to wash my coffee mug and noticed that the water in the bucket had frozen to
ice during the night. Thanks to the sleeping bags, I did not have to face any
such adversities at night. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We started off on the trek by about 7 A.M. this day, for we
had to reach Bhagwabasa, the next campsite before the weather closed. The trek
on this day had 3 main landmarks, and as we moved along these I noticed
striking changes in the landscape. The initial portion was a steep climb on the
meadows. We passed Bedni Kund, and climbed up to a grassy trail on the
mountainside. The climb was quite exhausting, and altitude had already started
taking a toll on some of us. It was during this part that the trek leader had
to advise 3 members of the team against proceeding further. In the thin
mountain air, we’d go out of breath just by climbing up a few paces. The cold
winds blowing continuously made the situation no better. But luckily for us, as
the guide explained, the weather seemed to be very clear, and conducive for
good progress. Some solace! We battled fatigue and kept walking for about an
hour and finally reached a long trail that moves across the mountainsides to our
first halt point, Ghoda Lutani. The place gets its name because horses do not
go beyond this point. Its not as if there is an invisible wall that repels
horses, but just that this is the spot where the grassy terrain suddenly
changes to a rocky gravel path with very little grass. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bzilpb5GFqfcmDPthXgay5YoIvG8q_VYn723fCr4ijgcatx6NQDA0AUE-ykl96_5qusA6b3LODOeLxIRKuzoE6_q3Jhi3btAV5xnjt1jJ4wf2O2RN2Ch6t-praxpz32oR4LTyhgSbXs/s1600/DSC_0147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2bzilpb5GFqfcmDPthXgay5YoIvG8q_VYn723fCr4ijgcatx6NQDA0AUE-ykl96_5qusA6b3LODOeLxIRKuzoE6_q3Jhi3btAV5xnjt1jJ4wf2O2RN2Ch6t-praxpz32oR4LTyhgSbXs/s1600/DSC_0147.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is while walking up to Ghoda Lutani (Photo Credits: Shakti)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">On Rock We Walk</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
At Ghoda Lutani, we saw a rock, which the team leader
explained was user to indicate direction. As we rested, we met some trekkers
returning. They told us that the weather was very bad at Roopkund, and they
could not make it to the lake. Though it sort of shook us up a bit, we now
proceeded with hardened resolve.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjXjSGqOhvy-9ws4mv_SVg2Rg4HFc7U4wW_wz2ciGM-EkRQCf3TJY99xEFu_uoyO_QkieBEFks7soUsa1ywxiEqwsYwH8g7r2gnae4-y4BvvdeeCHoTanZSuCkGE0zm2_V0L9zZmz3-H4/s1600/DSC_0140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjXjSGqOhvy-9ws4mv_SVg2Rg4HFc7U4wW_wz2ciGM-EkRQCf3TJY99xEFu_uoyO_QkieBEFks7soUsa1ywxiEqwsYwH8g7r2gnae4-y4BvvdeeCHoTanZSuCkGE0zm2_V0L9zZmz3-H4/s1600/DSC_0140.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rock which tells the Direction. Can you make anything out? Its called a Tairn.(Photo Credits: Shakti)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The next planned halt was at Patra Nachauni. We had left
behind the grassy vegetation, and the change was so striking. And what replaced
the smooth grassy terrain where one would love to walk miles just barefoot was
not in so good taste. The trail here was lined up with loads of mule dung. As a
trekker, you have only 2 choices – either you step on it, or you don’t. I chose
not to, and that made my trek considerably harder. I now had to look for those
rare spots untouched by the soft black dung-pellets, and tread along the
complicated path made by these points. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
After proceeding around 2 kilometers, we reached Patra
Nachauni. This is apparently the spot where Goddess Nanda Devi had the dancers
entombed. The three craters were nearly circular and symmetrically placed. If
they had been made by some mechanical device some thousands of years ago, I
cannot imagine what kind of primitive machines that did not use either oil or
electricity could accomplish this kind of boring. May be miracles do happen!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We had some parathas and boiled potatoes here, and then
resumed our walk. From here the path again turned into a steep climb. The dung
on the trail still persisted. I remember slogging up the hard slope, taking
breaks from time to time because my legs would not cooperate. I’d say to
myself, “I am going to stop only when I reach that rock over there” and then it
simply became a test of will power and determination. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJuauw6ycZU53pNhI-gp7z0B9TVZediZaNdE-_jMhqdA5qhYc12416Xgt8MVsDqmJRtCvWAcnOd8p0_Fjo6JdJ1eIUWPSlTV3mK5h0uaBPDPcd309b1wDm_WTNN8EruLsntkbC545_FpI/s1600/DSC_0160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJuauw6ycZU53pNhI-gp7z0B9TVZediZaNdE-_jMhqdA5qhYc12416Xgt8MVsDqmJRtCvWAcnOd8p0_Fjo6JdJ1eIUWPSlTV3mK5h0uaBPDPcd309b1wDm_WTNN8EruLsntkbC545_FpI/s1600/DSC_0160.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Rocky Trail to Kalu Vinayak. (Photo Credits: Shakti)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Hitting Snowline!</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
It was almost 1 P.M. by the time we reached Kalu Vinayak. This
was the highest point for the day. There was a small Ganesha shrine there. The
guide mentioned that they believed that the shrine was natural and had always
been there. Legend has it that Lord Vinayak stood guard at this point while
Goddess Parvati took a bath at Roopkund. From here one can get a first view of
the Roopkund crater across some mountain ridges. Someone blew a conch lying in
the temple. The sound seemed to rejuvenate my energy levels. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The more important detail that I should mention here is that
at Kalu Vinayak, we hit snowline. The difference in the terrain was very
abrupt. Even as we were resting at Kalu Vinayak, the sky turned dark, and cold
winds started blowing accompanied with flakes of snow. It was the first time we
experienced snowfall during the trek. We marched ahead now with our goggles and
ponchos on. The change in temperature was very dramatic. I remember cringing
inside my poncho to shield myself from the frozen surroundings. It was a good
1-kilometer walk on the snow with a gradual descent to Bhagwabasa campsite. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Camping at Bhagwabasa</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
Bhagwabasa camp hasd two huts, and a single kitchen tent, which completely stood on snow. We had to clear off the snow on our shoes every time
we entered the huts. Once our bodies cooled down after the walk, we realized
how cold it actually was outside. Whenever the door was opened, it would bring
in chilly winds sending shivers down our spines. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The snowfall ended by lunchtime, and the sun shone bright in
the sky once again. This was a nice opportunity to get acclimatized to the
weather, as it would be nearly impossible once the sun went down. Everyone went outside, and got busy taking photographs, building snowmen etc. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We were shown the ridges that we were supposed to cross the
following day in order to reach Roopkund. I had come all the way till
Bhagwabasa; I had to reach Roopkund at all costs now. That’s what was running
in my head as I studied the route over the mountain ridges. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
Unfortunately one of my fellow trekkers had injured her knee
and had to stay back at Bugwabasa. She would join us again on our way back. I
had saved my energy for the following day – I knew it was going to be a long
one, and would drain me out completely. The trek leader announced that he
expected the team to start off for the summit by 5 A.M. in a single file.
Everyone had an early dinner and retired to their sleeping bags.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4lYEy64SI_mMonlas2-DPqTkilsamgbRimbbS3oqjxXTJlyI_fwwVNXZjOuX0Q27Ci4vsO-yobZdxgj8mfIwUic3pz1FctcCf4W1r2S8s54kqvnpnxYxMa1xpN1KooNtZQRwNKJrnUw/s1600/DSC_0182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy4lYEy64SI_mMonlas2-DPqTkilsamgbRimbbS3oqjxXTJlyI_fwwVNXZjOuX0Q27Ci4vsO-yobZdxgj8mfIwUic3pz1FctcCf4W1r2S8s54kqvnpnxYxMa1xpN1KooNtZQRwNKJrnUw/s1600/DSC_0182.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evening View From Bahgwabasa (Photo Credits: Shakti)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoTitle" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">17<sup>th</sup>
October 2012 (Day 5)|</span></span><span class="NoSpacingChar"><span style="font-size: 11.5pt;"> </span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">To
the ‘Skeleton lake’ and back…</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Climb to Roopkund</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We were woken up at 4 A.M. in the morning, by the familiar
call – “<a href="http://www.roopkund.com/">Indiahikes</a>! Come and have your tea!” I got out of my sleeping bag and
opened the hut door, and froze – the wind felt like a surgeon’s cold blade on
my face. The temperature that night, I came to know had gone as low as -10 ºC!
The experience of freshening up, and getting ready for the trek that day was a
unique experience, and I am sure every trekker will agree with me on this. Hot
tea and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">daliya </i>(Indian for porridge)
were served at breakfast. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We started out by about 5:30 A.M. owing to some delays in
packing up and getting ready. It was still dark, and everyone was wearing
several layers of clothing to survive the gelid weather conditions. The team
leader announced that the temperature was about -4ºC.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The early morning walk presented us with some of the most
spectacular sights of the Greater Himalayan Mountain Ranges far off at the
horizon. The rising sun created a gradual red-to-orange-to-yellow texture
across the sky which reflected off the snow capped mountains making them appear
as huge chunks of gold in the diffuse dawn lighting. I looked at a fellow
trekker and exclaimed, “ Calendar! Calendar!!” I couldn't say more, I am not
sure if it was because I was out if breath in the thin mountain air, or out of
the sheer exhilaration at the picturesque scenery I beheld. I actually meant
that these were the scenes, one usually finds on expensive fancy calendars. The
grin on his face told me he understood what I meant!</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTY7GM6tC90DG7uA9stw3BdkKOBW5Nshwn6pKpmLiNInOGzEauwfmJ-O8rbuHB2VXdz2cvEWoY5AB_GaAJ-_6H362A_LkB18oOYaVom_XYq_sH_ccG22KyTmdJhgAvaK5ePGUHOecF6Cs/s1600/DSC01054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTY7GM6tC90DG7uA9stw3BdkKOBW5Nshwn6pKpmLiNInOGzEauwfmJ-O8rbuHB2VXdz2cvEWoY5AB_GaAJ-_6H362A_LkB18oOYaVom_XYq_sH_ccG22KyTmdJhgAvaK5ePGUHOecF6Cs/s1600/DSC01054.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This can go into a calendar! (Photo Credits: Shakti)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The group moved in a single file following the steps that
were being cut in the snow by our guide. From time to time we’d come across
particularly slippery or rocky regions where we had to proceed one-by-one
cautiously, for a slip or fall could be fatal. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
I could write pages and pages describing the trek on this
day- it is all imprinted so vividly in my mind. Right from the small red
flowers which were the only kind of vegetation on the frozen hill sides to the
unique experience of walking on 10 inch deep snow and spotting pug-marks of some
strange animal on the snow, it is something to experience, by actually being
there. So, I’ll leave a lot of other details for you to imagine and cherish. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
As we neared Roopkund, the climb became really steep. The
final 10-minute stretch had an inclination of almost 60º-70º. Finally, a small
red flag marking the finish line came into sight. I was totally drained out,
the flag seemed to fill me up with some wild energy, and I broke into an
erratic sprint on the snow towards the flag. We had finally made it!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">The Lake That Wasn’t Spotted</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The euphoria of finally reaching Roopkund lasted for a few
minutes, after which I started observing the surroundings. We got a close up
view of Mount Trishul, but we could not get a complete view. For that, one
needs to go to Junargali, which is about 500 feet higher. Since it was already
9.30 A.M. the expedition to Junargali was cancelled (for going there one has to
start off by 8.30 A.M. otherwise the snow melts making the walk very
difficult). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
On one side was a small Bholenath temple, where we all assembled
for a group photograph. Farther along was the place where lake Roopkund was
supposedly situated, now lying completely frozen and covered up in snow. There
were bones and skulls lying here and there, quite as described by Dhani-ji
while he explained us the legend of Roopkund. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXOFMeXCyyBjI-2fwSKFxC3PwhlQkcq5OwhwQhtvMNapn2JGxYqIDY0DXhVx_SGgE31XAgtblJUScNCpHILps_4gEC7bniMMOluA1xg_gFTvPYSeIxKPOFRSuqG4t_ikVqzFkhpo8m8I/s1600/DSC01049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXOFMeXCyyBjI-2fwSKFxC3PwhlQkcq5OwhwQhtvMNapn2JGxYqIDY0DXhVx_SGgE31XAgtblJUScNCpHILps_4gEC7bniMMOluA1xg_gFTvPYSeIxKPOFRSuqG4t_ikVqzFkhpo8m8I/s1600/DSC01049.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bones spotted at Roopkund (Photo Credits: Rahul Negi)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We stayed at the spot for about half an hour. We had some
alu parathas, that were arranged roamed around and took photographs and then
got ready for our descent back to Bhagwabasa.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Descent To Bhagwabasa</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We knew that the walk for the day was far from being over.
The sun was bright in the sky but we still felt cold. There was an acute glare
from the snow, and we were forced to put on our sunglasses all the time. The
return journey was considerably difficult. Even though it did not drive me out
of breath, the slippery snow reduced my rate of progress. By this time, the
snow had gradually started to melt and the water formed a glistening sheen
covering the surface. We walked back along the same path we came by and finally
reached Bhagwabasa camp by about 1:30 P.M. in the afternoon. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
But this afternoon was not like the other afternoons.
Instead of having the usual leisurely setting that we had every afternoon at
reaching the camp every afternoon, I noticed hustle and bustle, with people
packing up stuff, quickly gobbling up lunch filling their bottles etc. Got
reminded of Robert Frost’s famous line – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Miles
to go, before I sleep</i>”. Though I was tired, I knew the gravity of the
situation, if we did not start early, we would not be able to make it to Bedni
Bugyal camp by sunset, then we’d have a lot of difficulty handling the team
after dark. So, I crammed my stuff in my bag, and reported to the leader in a
jiffy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">A Walk to Remember</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The title may be a little over-dramatic (Nicholas Sparks
might scowl at the parlance) but to me, it certainly was a memorable hike over
9 long kilometers back to Bedni. We started off from Bhagwabasa by around 2
P.M. in the afternoon towards Kalu Vinayak. It was a gradual ascent about a kilometer
long. The snow was melting, but since the climb was not too steep, the walk was
relatively easy. At Kalu Vinayak, we stopped for about 5 minutes to rest. I
remember the splendid view of the hues of the sky at the horizon that blended
together to produce a vivid yellowish red gloss. Sardar-ji our guide blew the
conch again and we proceeded with the descent. The snow line had ended at Kalu
Vinayak and now we were back on the rocky mountainsides. But I noticed that
there were patches of ice along the path this time. Apparently there was a lot
of precipitation in the last 2 days. Not that I enjoyed it a lot though. The
ice mixed with the mule dung and took a brownish paste like consistency. Not at
all in good taste (hold! I did not say, “not good <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in </i>taste” I said “not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in </i>good
taste”!) .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The next halt was supposed to be Patra Nachauni. But it
seemed to take forever to reach. I walked and walked and walked. I’d look
around the surrounding mountains to try and catch a glimpse of the two green
huts but got none. It was nearly 4.30 P.M. when it finally appeared, and I went
inside, and sat down to rest. My toes were throbbing mildly with pain. When you
move downwards, the toes take on all the body weight, and it almost becomes
like a patience and endurance test if you keep walking long.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
After resting for about 5 minutes we resumed the walk to
Ghoda Lutani. As we were walking I noticed a huge cloud hovering towards our
trail. It would severely hamper the visibility if it came into our path. So I
began to walk faster hoping to reach Ghoda Lutani before the cloud would plunge
us into darkness. Alas! Ghoda Lutani simply seemed to evade us! We knew that it
was located at a curve where hillside took to a sharp convexity. I’d put in all
my energy to reach the edge hoping to that’s where Ghoda Lutani is, just to
find that the trail extended in the same fashion over to the next curve. It was
so frustrating, that I actually wondered how I covered all this distance the
last time, because even if I did, I did not remember being so impatient.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The clouds had covered the trail now, and we could hardly
see 20 – 30 feet ahead of us. It was almost like living in a grey world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We reached Ghoda Lutani by about 6 P.M. It was already quite
dark by then. People had drawn out their torches. Due to the fog, we had lost
track of where everyone was. I was with 5 of my teammates and the rest of them
who were close behind us were nowhere to be seen. We waited for them for about
10 minutes, when we finally heard their voices and joined up with them. The
remaining trek to Bedni was done using torches, for it had gotten very dark. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
It was a unique experience, trekking in the darkness. We all
walked in a single file, passing verbal warnings of the hurdles in the path to
the people behind. Sounded something like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“patthar
hai”, “nala hai” </i>etc. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
We reached Bedni by about 7:30 P.M. in the evening. It was a
long day, with over 12 hours on foot. We had descended about 4000 feet in a
single day, but it still felt cold at Bedni. The temperature was about 3-4ºC.
no one had the energy or inclination to stay up and talk – we all were pretty
much burned out for the day. We had dinner, talked to the team leader to start
the next day’s trek a little late and retired to our sleeping bags by 9 P.M. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<span class="Heading1Char"><span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 110%;">18<sup>th</sup> October 2012 (Day 6)|</span></span><span class="SubtitleChar"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt;">back to so called “civilization”</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Snakes and Ladders</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">
The next day, we woke up leisurely, had our breakfast and
set off by about 8:30 P.M. The weather was very pleasant. The destination for
this day was Wan. The route was a single rocky trail that took us down the
hillsides. If you’re wondering what the title for this section means, I am
coming to it. All along the way, we had opportunities of taking numerous short
cuts while walking down hill. I remember telling a fellow trekker “This feels
like snakes and ladders!” May be the only difference is that there were no
snakes and the trail seemed to be moving down rather than moving up. Whatever.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFzli2o9d9phDjj1utA7xvuMvVOmO8lKPyEPodoX0FDXQq65zqAec4Y6D59bDx_0E7krhqdDzBBXtyRngsHQp9QnzjPjZbCvwkVLyacLf6UK51CPJuH9_1ac1X2uIxY8dmEuQHhMQEbw/s1600/DSC_0288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFzli2o9d9phDjj1utA7xvuMvVOmO8lKPyEPodoX0FDXQq65zqAec4Y6D59bDx_0E7krhqdDzBBXtyRngsHQp9QnzjPjZbCvwkVLyacLf6UK51CPJuH9_1ac1X2uIxY8dmEuQHhMQEbw/s1600/DSC_0288.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking Shortcuts. (Picture credits: Shakti)</td></tr>
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On the way, we stopped at a point where there were hundreds
of sheep. The shepherd was kind enough to let us take photographs with the cute
lambs. Well… there I am!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9AZsT1Kq0MGg98S0fxojY9gGqT_At0IGw0FEZw6IWc48n7r0SAvTbjEfAJaDAf8BIk9QJ4nJhRsBrG-QplBEVgln20mXlsze5C_mDDN7wf-v6OsR3Y1ODpZDTMdn4ZFkNEX1k2UQroRM/s1600/sheep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9AZsT1Kq0MGg98S0fxojY9gGqT_At0IGw0FEZw6IWc48n7r0SAvTbjEfAJaDAf8BIk9QJ4nJhRsBrG-QplBEVgln20mXlsze5C_mDDN7wf-v6OsR3Y1ODpZDTMdn4ZFkNEX1k2UQroRM/s1600/sheep.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were hundreds of these. Literally. (Picture Credits: NC Krishna)</td></tr>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Anecdotes From the Walk to Wan</span></b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_uxbDgYmgVgofpVY7d2u1rukZYD8mK6HdJlQx4as7PHX5Ia8VPw3slK2hlTHbtr_niQ5yAHs19DclcI8PTbtqbdxEPnlcnGXtcLTdCZDJ4plHdgOogmPW5u-XTHFmymcVV9l6aF4sKc/s1600/DSC_0371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_uxbDgYmgVgofpVY7d2u1rukZYD8mK6HdJlQx4as7PHX5Ia8VPw3slK2hlTHbtr_niQ5yAHs19DclcI8PTbtqbdxEPnlcnGXtcLTdCZDJ4plHdgOogmPW5u-XTHFmymcVV9l6aF4sKc/s1600/DSC_0371.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neel Ganga, once again. (Picture Credits: Shakti)</td></tr>
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By the afternoon, we reached Neel Ganga, which was the
lowest point for trek on this day. Everyone took photographs and enjoyed the
riverside for a while before proceeding along the trail again, which took to a
steep course of ascent. It was about a one and a half kilometers but I guess we
were habituated to steep slopes and so I just kept walking, till we arrived at
a ridge called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rann ki Dhar</i>. Over a
distance, I spotted Mount Trishul, which was so close when we were at Roopkund.
We had come a long, long way. The trek leader told me that this is the last
time one can spot Mt. Trishul during the trek. </div>
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We continued our walk to Wan, which had the highest point in
the locality that had motor connectivity. As we walked, we noticed a variety of
interesting Himalayan vegetation including Buras Flowers, a variety of wild
berries, fruits and strange looking flowers. There were also some primitive
looking Cyprus trees that had a huge trunk. So thick that it would require
about a 6 people holding hands to surround the base of the tree. I got to know
that these trees were centuries old. Watch it to believe!</div>
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I am reminded of another curious incident.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While walking, there was a herd of cattle
lead by a lady form the village that we passed by. The cattle all moved in a
single file obediently. Suddenly one of the oxen in the group seemed to go
nuts. I have my own reasons to believe that this was because some one in our
group was wearing bright red track pants. The next 5 minutes were thrilling and
gave me goose bumps. </div>
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What happened was, that the poor lady charged the ox with a
stick to control it. The maddened ox stomped it hooves impatiently on the
ground and raced towards us in top speed. To an imaginative eye like mine, the
surroundings suddenly appeared to change to the streets of Madrid, where many a
bullfighter either shot to fame or obscurity due to encounters with maddened
bulls. I lunged myself to dodge the ox as it bolted past leaving a cloud of
dust. Whoa! What an adventure! Sorry, no photographs!</div>
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We now walked farther down the road and reached a set of
cement steps – a sign of re-entering the so-called <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Civilized World</i>. Two TATA SUMO vehicles were waiting for us at the
road. We noticed Marijuana growing openly all around in this area and exchanged
grins. </div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Back to Base Camp</span></b></div>
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The ride from Wan to Lohajung was very bumpy. We crossed
streams of flowing water, mitigated sharp curves and reached Culling, the
village we had walked through on the first day of the trek. Form there we could
see Didina, Ali Top one prong of Mount Trishul and Nanda Ghunti. It was all
coming to an end.</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #94b6d2; font-size: 14.0pt; letter-spacing: 1.0pt; line-height: 110%; mso-themecolor: accent1;">Retrospect</span></b></div>
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In retrospect, I feel that the trekking expedition at the
Himalayas is somewhat a humbling experience. The trek brings out nature’s
vibrancy and beauty in a different dimension all together. What we miss out in
our daily hustle and bustle at homes is probably priceless and can never be
created or purchased, whatever be the amount of progress in technology or
economy. I realized that with all my education, and qualification, I was may be
a little more than an illiterate in those mountain trails. The knowledge of the
local guides and the people living there and their intuitions about the weather
and other things were as accurate as precise scientific judgments. </div>
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What kind of textbooks have they studied? None! I guess
that’s nature’s own way of teaching her sons to sustain in this beautiful
creation. </div>
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I shall sign off here with a bow to Bholenath ji (lord
Shiva), for letting me and my teammates finish the trek successfully without
any hassles and a note of congratulations to all my companions for making it to
the top. </div>
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Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-4756353972044034612011-08-31T15:03:00.000-07:002011-08-31T15:03:57.710-07:00When Leader-ship Goes AstrayMany times in life, your peers give you positions of responsibility, because they believe that the task will be handled well by you. They trust that the various challenges the task poses will be best handled by you, and that you will help the team perform efficiently and smoothly. They hope to feel organized and productive under your regime. They expect you will respect their interests and still make sure that the task at hand is addressed properly. Do you realize that being a leader is not just limited to finishing the task at hand? Do you notice that it is not an easy task to lead a team to pursue a set of goals? Do you see how important it is for a leader to be firm, yet morally righteous? Does it strike that the leader is the icon that represents the team, and his character is reflected in the team’s attitude? No wonder we have few great leaders. In all other cases, the team is subjected to unwanted authority, unwarranted bias, and unpleasant reprimand. If you have experienced such a situation, you will know how horrible it feels, because you cannot go against the leader, as you want to keep the integrity of the team intact, but in this process are forced to go against your own morals and ethics. In this section, I just want to bring to light how we end up losing our identity when under the influence of such leadership. <br />
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I sometimes wonder if we really need leaders? What if there were none? And the answer comes straight – if there are no leaders, the world will end up in utter chaos. It is really a spectacle to watch a group of people performing wonders while motivated by a single man who is able to command the team, yet the team feels inspired and motivated rather than suppressed and opposed. <br />
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The trouble begins when the leader does not understand this. When he does not have the slightest concern for the people under him, the only thing that matters to him is if the task gets done. When it becomes too hard for him to handle the work and he tries to hide it by blaming it on the team. When he uses his authority to harass people he does not like, and to incentivize people he favors. When he does not understand ethics and his actions are driven by desire to “send a message” of authority, and when his actions do not have any affect in his conscience at all. That is when everything begins to go wrong. That is when mistrust, dissatisfaction, unhappiness, rebellion, contempt and a variety of negative feelings breed in the group. And once this sets in, the process is irreversible. There are always people who support the authority irrespective of its status, and luckily they keep the “teamwork” running. For the remaining it is just the horrible experience I mentioned above. <br />
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We let people lead us in the hope that they will lead us to a better understanding and learning of the task at hand. But at a later point of time when we find out that the leader displays a lower level of maturity and understanding than what you believe you have acquired, then we land up in an identity crisis. Because having accepted the leadership we will have to follow the team’s policies, whereas our own ideas differ completely. So this creates mistrust and unhappiness and people realize they are stuck. If you ever come across such a situation, it is essential preserve your identity and yet be a part of the team. How is it possible? Having passed through similar situations many times and after some reflection on this, I thought of writing it down here. This is just my view about the topic; it is not my intention to create any differences.<br />
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The symptoms of a bad leader are quite visible and obvious. Some of them are listed here for your reference:<br />
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• <b>Is Aggressive:</b> Being aggressive is a symbol of insecurity and is essentially a failure of trust and normal communication. Whenever you see someone shouting his throat out to make himself heard, it shows the leader essentially lacks influence and support of his team.<br />
• <b>Lies/ Tricks/ Cheats:</b> There are ethical ways of getting right things done. But things that are unethical can be done only using unethical means. And if the captain resorts to these, then it means he lacks ethics. <br />
• <b>Uses power for personal impact:</b> Some people just want to create the image of a ‘DON’. They want to be respected and feared and they will go out of their way by exercising their power to make sure this happens. Basically these people are insecure, and need some attention. <br />
• <b>Promotes personal vision:</b> Now these people just don’t care if anyone else has anything to say about the matter at hand. They know (or think that they know) what they want and will go on promoting these ideas. Irrespective of what the team feels. <br />
• <b>Censures critical or opposing views:</b> Sometimes people are not content with promoting their views (which may not be strong enough) and so they try to censure critical views, often in an aggressive manner “So you think I am wrong? You think it is my fault? Are you questioning my decision?” And well most of the people cower under the pressure, or get repulsed by the vanity of taking up the task of explaining a contrasting viewpoint. <br />
• <b>Demands that his decisions be accepted without question:</b> If someone cannot answer a question about his own decisions and actions, how can he do it for others? Leaders in this category form the typical martinets or dictators, like Hitler. There is no chance for anyone to say anything. Or at least that’s what the demand is. <br />
• <b>One- way communication:</b> He will do the talking. Your role is to listen. Some time he will grace you by allowing you to say, “Yes” or “No”. Your input beyond this is probably insignificant, and not required to the team. Probably you are not required either. <br />
• <b>Insensitive to follower’s needs:</b> Basically, they don’t really care if you are comfortable and are able to work happily and if you are not stressed out or if you find the job too difficult. All they care about is the output. <br />
• <b>Relies on convenient external moral standards to satisfy self – interests:</b> The whole team may feel a certain decision is unjust and immoral. But who said that the moral standard of the team is to be decided by the team members? They are supposed to follow. These leaders, who are quite experienced in adjusting the levels according to the situation involved, suitably define the moral standards according to their convenience. <br />
• <b>Dilutes and Disguises:</b> The leaders disguise their personal ideas (which are often unethical) by using euphemisms or softened versions of the decisions. For example, using phrases like “helped him make a career choice” for firing an employee, “inappropriate allocation of resources” for an act of stealing, “helped in rediscovering passions” for rustication from an academic setting, etc. are typically seen in such leaders.<br />
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You now know some of the symptoms of the so-called Un-ethical Leaders. Not all these traits are seen in every such leader, but it is generally a mix of these characteristics that are observed. The basic question remains – Why do leaders act this way? Don’t they have morals? If they do, are they under any pressure to compete with others who have been more successful? Or is it just the power they get due to the post that makes them take advantage? A leader is given privileged access to sensitive information for a purpose – it is expected that he will use it sensibly to handle situations and improve the overall performance by taking wise strategic decisions. But sometimes leaders may relax and enjoy the control and privileges they get, and when this happens the strategic focus is lost. For any of the reasons mentioned above (or for other reasons) the leader indulges in unethical activities, which can often be covered up by the power that comes with the position. With repeated such incidents, leaders may see themselves above law and the rules of the institution. Information about the group’s strategies is kept away from those in a lower hierarchy, and if they fail to live by these standards they are punished and abused. If they complain, they are expelled. A group of people who have been doing what the leader wishes is favored, taken given a high position praised. The others are essentially given no voice. <br />
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For any leader, acting ethically is critical if members of the organization are to see him as responsible and credible and if they are to act ethically themselves. The leadership must itself come under he law of the organization. Using unethical means to exercise power and create fear and friction in the organization can never lead to a successful effort. It is much better to keep away form such team, even if it is well established, and successful than to work with them and lose ones identity in the process. <br />
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If you have also seen these traits in leaders around you, then you can now relate these to the discussion I have been building up. In such cases it is important to modify the leadership to make the organization work better. Some of the steps that can be taken for this are suggested here.<br />
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• <b>Communicate with others about your ideas:</b> It is possible that you have not exactly understood why the decision had to be taken. Talk with various teammates, talk to the leader and anyone concerned. Clarify if you still believe the decision is unethical. Ask yourself why and be sure you know it. <br />
• <b>Propose to the people:</b> Discuss with others why you feel the particular decision taken is unethical and see if people are in general agreement or disagreement. You can even discuss the issue with the leader, if he is open to it. <br />
• <b>Propose to the captain:</b> If you feel that the public feels the decision is not appropriate mention this to the leader and notice his stand. If he sees reason, and relents/ explains the matter further, he is probably genuine. But if he uses any of the techniques that have been mentioned above, he is clearly indulging in an unethical activity, and something must be done about it. <br />
• <b>Garner support:</b> The public need to know that the leadership takes a stand against them, because most of the time it is concealed due to the influence of the leader. There must be general awareness about the leader’s attitude towards the issues. <br />
• <b>Collective Decision:</b> Arrive at a collective decision on what can be done in order to stop the leaders unethical actions and take action accordingly.<br />
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A strong leadership inspires a strong organization, <br />
A strong leadership can also inspire a weak organization<br />
But a weak leadership will destroy any organization; render it inefficient, and unsuccessful.<br />
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It is our responsibility to take initiatives in our daily life to inculcate ethical leadership in ourselves as well as our organization. With constant perseverance and conscious effort it is possible. It is not at all possible by submitting passively to the leaders wishes. By asserting ones rights, and views it can surely be achieved. <br />
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The views expressed on leadership are a result of carefully contemplation and research. They may appear as very sharp or striking, but it has been done only to create an effect. The intention of the article is to sensitize you to the ways of unethical leaders and be wary of them. <br />
Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-59458344177955133992011-07-03T03:59:00.000-07:002011-07-03T03:59:01.037-07:00That thing called "Trust"“I trust you” … this is a common sentence in many of our everyday dealings. Trusting is a very natural form of bonding between members of a society, and it’s a beautiful feeling indeed, to trust, and to be trusted. But trusting effects an individual in many ways and it is, I feel, useful to understand the consequences of trusting someone, or being trusted by someone. Also trust is a means to achieve better social credibility and surprisingly also a medium to realize oneself as we will see further down the essay.<br />
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So, what is trust? It is hard to define, and has many definitions to it. But in a broad sense, “trust” encompasses 2 kinds of beliefs - a belief that the trusted will act the way the trustee expected him to, or a belief that that the trusted will not act in a way unacceptable to the trustee. Simple enough? The consequences of trusting in a social setup can be exceedingly complex, though. In order that we remain happy and well connected in the society, it is important to use capability to trust others wisely and well. In this article I will put up certain implications and effects of trusting, which I have experienced personally, and believe have a positive impact. <br />
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The first question that comes to mind is - why trust someone at all? Well, life is full of risks, and risk breeds fear. Fear adds inhibition, which leads to unproductivity. Trusting wards of fear, fills one with confidence to take risks, tackle problems, and face life. Besides, trust triggers affection and love, grants company, creates a sense of self-identity, and has many other advantages. But ironically, trusting itself is a risky job, because it makes one vulnerable. It raises levels of expectation, which often hurts people, which in turn causes trouble in relationships. <br />
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To trust someone, you need to grant vulnerability or weakness to that person. There is an inherent risk involved – he may misuse it, but then that is what you expect him not to do. And granting vulnerability also makes you realize yourself better. Each time you trust someone with your weakness, you realize that it is your weakness, and unconsciously you take precautions to protect your interests, which strengthen your personality. Thus we have the “increased confidence” effect of trust. Try it yourself. Once you trust someone with a weakness of yours, you will be much more comfortable “being yourself” with that person, than with others. In this way, you can reinforce your personality and your self by trusting others.<br />
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As you trust a person with more and more of your vulnerabilities, your intimacy with that person increases, and so does your comfort level. This is typically the best part of a relationship. But there is one problem with trust – it has a “corruptive” effect. Suppose a person whom you trust a lot behaves in a way you don’t warrant. The trust in that case is broken. It hurts you, and simultaneously reduces your trust in all other kinds situations. With a couple of other such incidences, your capability to trust people will have been drastically reduced, and you find it difficult to trust not just the person who broke your trust, but anyone in general. This is the problem why most of the breakups happen. And after trust is broken once you become more difficult to trust again. So, it is essential to understand how trust is “corruptive” and trust people wisely.<br />
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There is no rule “written” anywhere that a person who has accepted and understood 100 feelings of yours will also advocate the 101st feeling. Differences are always there, waiting to creep in. How then can you manage to still maintain the trust? <br />
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Every one has his/her own defense mechanism. By granting vulnerability gradually, and by avoiding topics where you are not understood or opposed, and reducing expectation levels from others, granting them space and being assertive of your own, trust can be kept alive.<br />
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It is beautiful to be able to trust someone. If you notice that someone has broken your trust, and then you feel miserable, and wish to trust no one else, it is due to the corruptive effect of trust. Every one seeks partnership, intimacy, and love. Everyone responds favorably to these, and they will surely reflect it back upon you. Grant vulnerability, wisely, but freely, and harness your expectation levels, to get a wonderful perspective at the world around you – full of caring friends and trusted acquaintances. Build up your relations gradually so, you get to know the person well before trusting him/her with personal information. Otherwise, Happy trusting!Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-61304928231798237062011-06-02T23:15:00.001-07:002011-06-02T23:15:57.271-07:00Science - "The Global Language"Science has revolutionized the world – today technology makes our life easy and fast. We are now able to do much more work than out ancestors, with the advent of machines and computers – thanks to science. The roots of scientific thinking in man are untraceable – some scientific inquisitiveness, a quest for knowledge and learning was there ever since, may be the discovery of fire in the Paleolithic age. Making stone tools, weapons, invention of wheel, discovery and usage of metals all indicate the gradual development of scientific temperament in man. Science today looks so different, and advanced. Everyday newer discoveries are being made. All this is well known to all of us – I put it in here just for completeness. <br />
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Of late, I have been thinking along the lines as - is science as we learn today is complete by itself? Will the process of investigation ever end? If yes, when and why? Deliberating along these lines, I came up with an interesting viewpoint about how science is being taught and learnt today. The thought is radical, and I am putting it across just incase it might interest you. <br />
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First, it is important to understand what science actually is – it is essentially our understanding of the universe based on our perception of the universe. In science, all we do is try to describe this in terms of laws, patterns, theories, models etc. Most of today’s research in science is based on existing laws, which have been “proved” to be true, and any new observation is “made to” conform to the existing laws, so that they are in agreement. Hundreds of papers are being published this way. <br />
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But do you notice the fact that science is completely “objective”? It has no room for “what you feel” about something. Even before Newton had proposed the laws of motion, man knew that bodies moved. Even though they did not know about momentum and force, they somehow understood and used some principles of motion, which were unique for each individual – “subjectivity”. After Newton proposed his laws, every student is made to learn (sometimes even by rote!!) these laws and made to believe this is just how bodies move. May be it is true (verified experimentally) but do you see that there is no scope now for what the student “feels” about motion? <br />
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Science is just a “language” that you and I speak. And when we speak science we just cannot disagree with each other, (because everything had been “proved”) even though in real life we actually have different ideas about things. Influential scientists have laid down the rules of this language, and others have no say. If I ask you “Is there life on other planets?” you will tell me what you feel about it, because science has not made any law about this yet. But later on if some influential scientist discovers an answer and supplies a “proof” for it, then you will probably change your viewpoint to agree with the answer given by science. But think of it – what is this proof based on? Other proofs. And it is proofs all the way! In this way, science is killing subjectivity, or uniqueness in human thought. <br />
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I also feel, an objective description of nature is incomplete and insufficient. Why should nature conform to laws and patterns? Whenever it does not conform, we call them exceptions. Why define a pattern at all? Why can’t we understand nature more intuitively, more personally so that our views about it are also taken into account? A blind man has sharp sense of hearing; he uses a completely different theory of motion, which has nothing to do with momentum or mass. And his understanding of motion is “well adapted” to him. Then why does it not qualify to be science? The way in which science is developing today is quite narrow that way. If we are more open to other ways of understanding nature, rather than just mathematical and logical modeling, we will probably discover lots of undiscovered truths that we have been avoiding all the way… <br />
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Philosophy is also a close associate of science, but where questions are asked about nature and its ways, and answers to these questions are debated. But there is one specialty of this subject – everyone is allowed to have his or her own philosophy. They do not need to “prove” what they believe is true. You are welcome to believe God exists or that God does not exist. Or even something like God exists but he cannot influence our lives in any manner. Or just about anything that you believe is right. And it works great that way, as people come across various situations, they form opinions about why nature behaved the way it did, and try to use this experience in future for understanding nature better. It is, this way much broader, and has a much higher scope. But there is one problem - Philosophy often dwells on abstract things like God, mind, and feelings, emotions etc., which are quite complex by themselves. As such these topics cannot be modeled as such with scientific arguments. And they are not physical phenomenon either. So, philosophy cannot take over science completely. Science has its own special place. But if it could be made more subjective, it would surely have broader scope for progress. <br />
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I feel, rather than learning hundreds of formulae and equations, may be we can learn how to look at nature, and deduce our own models to work with. The original Indian Teaching system had such a curriculum, and it produced really wise people. The art of teaching and learning science this way has been lost now under the influence of Western study curriculum. I sincerely hope some day we see wisdom, in reviving back the traditional way of studying science – for in the current direction, it cannot proceed for ever- there will be a dead end some where, when man won’t be able to discover anything else. Then we will have to look for alternate viewpoints for the research to continue… and that’s when breaking objectivity will allow further research. <br />
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“Knowledge is Power”Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-19317955552685865312011-05-28T01:55:00.000-07:002011-05-28T02:20:10.727-07:00Choosing A Career Path – “The Eternal Quandary”Am writing this, for a friend of mine, who is at the moment facing the “difficult” situation we all go through after 10th class – deciding a career path. So many options, and so many people advising you left right and center – makes things no better… actually it just adds to the confusion and many a times students tend to make wrong choices under the pressure. Having experienced such a situation myself, I have some tips for you, to make a smooth and well-balanced selection. <br />
<br />
1. Understand that whatever subject or career you choose, YOU have to study/work in that field at least for some time. That is because you have chosen the discipline and all its requirements and rules apply to you. <br />
2. It is also necessary to know that the subject you study during graduation is NOT the only possible line you will be limited to upon its completion. In fact, most of the graduates change fields after graduation. This is because market now looks for people with interdisciplinary knowledge – gone are the days when people with an expertise in a single field are valued highly; now a days people look out for interdisciplinary expertise. So combinations like engineering with MBA, or even Law, have high value in the market. And of course, you can super – specialize and stick to the subject you took at graduate level too, if you really loved the discipline. <br />
So, keep your mind open for exploring all kinds of opportunities.<br />
3. All the disciplines have exciting career opportunities. If you are passionate about your field nothing will stop you from excelling in it, and even earning decent money in the process. So just focus on what kind of things interest you.<br />
4. The choice, at the end is YOURS, it is not your parents’ or friend’s or mine. It is just yours. So, spend some time to yourself thinking what you want to be. Have a dream – get inspired. If you want to reach the moon, you will. But have a dream in the first place. If you have completed 10th class, now is the time to put in some serious thought about what you want to be in life. Do it before its too late; before opportunities start closing. I know it is hard to make a choice because it is all so confusing, but that’s the way it is – to live in this competitive world sometimes one has to work hard. <br />
5. Take advise. Seek Counsel. But accept none. That’s the right attitude. This is the point of time when you will hear hundreds of people telling you what is good for you. What they suggest may be with best intentions in mind, but it need not be suitable to you all the same. So listen to everyone, but accept just to what you feel is right for you. This is very important, and most of the confusion arises due to blindly taking everyone’s views in.<br />
6. Trust yourself – if you won’t then who will? You know your potential the best. People will say this subject is so hard, that subject is so boring, etc. That is their opinion. Not yours. If you wish to realize your dreams, come out with flying colors, then you must also be ready to give what it takes to get there. And if you lose hope listening to some person whose resolve was not strong enough, then you are already out of the race. So, trust yourself, and make a strong resolve – it is essential. If you won’t do it today, then when will you do it?<br />
7. Research. Find out what are the options and places where you can study/work. Select the organizations carefully and understand how to get admission into them. Once this is done – your goals are set and its time to prepare yourself to give your best!<br />
<br />
If you keep these things in mind it should be a lot easier to go about selecting your career. It is understandable that at school level you will have little idea about what kinds of courses you will have to study, what kind of work you will have to do etc. Here are a few broad guidelines to help you zero down to the field of your interest:<br />
<br />
<br />
1. Identify the things that really fascinate you – Space, movies, machines, automobiles, weapons, ships, crime investigation – could be just anything. Make a comprehensive list of such things. Do not include hobbies or pastimes in this list. So reading, writing, eating, cooking etc. are not part of this.<br />
2. Make a wish list – this is can have all kinds of crazy things you want in life… any thing and everything. You want it just put it in there – whether it is owning a BMW or, meeting Amir Khan, put it all in there… Make it whacky, and creative. That is your wish list and just yours.<br />
3. Think of things/ activities close to your heart – children, helping the poor, protecting the nation, making justice, inventing new things, could be just some of them.<br />
4. Make a list of hobbies – hobbies decide how you would like to deliver your learning or experience. I love writing; I write blogs, because I always wanted to and I am fascinated by psychology and philosophy - so my writing generally is like this. By clubbing your fascination with your hobbies you can find fields of work or study that you will really love to be in. All kinds of possibilities are there - your imagination is the limit! So make a list of things you love doing –you can put reading, writing, music, sports etc in here.<br />
5. List out the subjects/topics you enjoyed the most till now as far as studies at school level are concerned. Think in terms of how much you are interested in learning more about these subjects, and whether the subjects fascinate you. <br />
6. Find out the best colleges/ organizations in the country where you can seek to be admitted/employed. It is always important to aim for the best. That’s when your effort will take you places. Make a list of these colleges, and assign weightages to each depending on how badly you want to get there. <br />
7. It is also important to have a measure of scales – about your performance in school. Lots of times, colleges just don’t accept lower percentage students. That’s just their policy, and we have to put up with it. If you do not qualify, it makes you no less competent. So, write down your scores somewhere – just for reference.<br />
<br />
<br />
Spend enough time with this procedure – some do it in 2 – 3 days, while some may take 1 or 2 weeks. But make sure you do justice to it… and are satisfied by your work. Once you feel that, lock it and preserve your thoughts and dreams. <br />
<br />
Well you have got some lists in hand now. Depending on your analysis, discuss what you want to become with peers, and teachers. Do not budge from the lists you have made. They were the result of careful contemplation. Others may say many nice things, but if they were really that nice, they would have struck you earlier. As I mentioned earlier, take advice but do not accept it. Clarify all your fears, doubts and questions from people, Internet or other trusted sources. If you like any of the alternatives, just confirm about it with 1 or two more sources and set your goals. Once you do this am sure you will feel light-headed. Of course, there will be anxiety about how to go about reaching your goals and what to do next. That’s a different ball-game altogether. The ones with strongest determination and iron resolve are the winners there. With proper guidance and support, and dedicated and systematic work from your side, am sure you can make it to anywhere you want. But first resolve this quandary – “What do you want to do in life?” and everything else will fall in place☺<br />
<br />
What I have asked you to do is by no means a casual activity – you must do it seriously and persistently if it has to bear result. If you cannot be serious about what you want to become, then who do you think will be? Trust me, no one. Now is the time to take control of your life and start thinking of the future. If you have just finished 10th class, I urge you not to waste any more time – set your goals and get going! <br />
<br />
The philosophy for making a choice at any other point in life, I feel is also similar. Whether it the confusion after graduation about doing an MBA, or going for higher studies, or taking up a job, or it is about changing from one job to another, choices have to be made at every step, and can be quite confusing. I believe the confusion arises from not knowing your own passions properly, because we hardly spend time thinking of all this. So, the same ideology can be applied for taking any decision in general - I have written it for a friend, but it is not limited to that situation - I believe it is suitable for all.<br />
<br />
Finally, I wish you all the best in all your endeavors. May success be yours☺Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-13379926095693542412011-05-27T09:48:00.000-07:002011-05-27T09:48:16.200-07:00A Question of Identity – “Who am I”?Today’s life is very fast paced – every one is handling multiple responsibilities at the same time. There are deadlines everywhere – and these make “Living” literally “avoiding death” (working in deadlines). Working professionals, students, retired civilians, unemployed youth, and even children are continuously subjected to stress everyday. The purpose and meaning of life are now defined by strange looking professional goals, which decide the “worth” of an individual. Why is this happening? Among this rat race to be on top where are you? And where am I? Forget where I am, I don’t even know who I am! Such is the situation in today’s world, and no one cares to think about it. All are blindly doing what they are “supposed” to do – celebrating successes and crying over failures. <br />
<br />
Make a list of things you do from the moment you get up in the morning till you go to bed at night. Also write down “for whom” you did that piece of work, and “why” you did it. If you are like me – you will be surprised to see your name hardly appears anywhere in the whole list. But it was supposed to be “your life”! Then where has your name vanished? How come you see names of relatives, employers, friends and businessmen in the list? <br />
<br />
When I was an infant, I would laugh when I wanted to and cry when I wanted to. <br />
As I grew older I was taught to be reasonable and responsible, practical and logical. Now I have to cry when I fail courses and laugh when I top them. My happiness is a strong function of my friends, my parents, employers, and every other person I meet. Is that my Identity? Is that what I am? It is just shocking to realize it…<br />
<br />
Every day we switch into various “shoes” where our behavior is conditioned to be in a specific way – a student must be tidy, disciplined, punctual etc. and whether or not these qualities define you, if you are a student you are expected to follow suit. Believe me – this is the solemn cause for all major tensions in the world. <br />
<br />
The same problem causes innumerable break – ups in today’s couples – it is just the question – Am I “Me” or “her Boyfriend”? And the conflict becomes so strong that there is identity crisis, and the couple breaks apart. They actually love each other, but cannot put up with their differences – how sad! It really hurts and is a traumatic experience… <br />
<br />
The crux of the whole thought is we feel stressed because most of the time we “live for others” and it is very artificial to us, but society demands it and we have no way out but to conform to it. But at the same time it is absolutely essential to discover oneself, because it is his/her natural form – which is the most comfortable to live with. And it is essential to assume this form from time to time whether others like it or not. It is very personal, and everyone has a right to claim his or her space in a social setup. Then only it is possible to release the stresses, work better and be happy.<br />
<br />
<br />
There is no rule written that Love happens between compatible personalities only; in fact it generally happens in opposite personalities… and it is important to respect and accept the identity of one’s partner and let him/her have ample space to release the stress. Doing will make things very easy and happy. <br />
<br />
How, then can you discover your identity? There are 2 major parts to it – Reflection and Expression. <br />
<br />
For the reflection part - ask yourself more questions about yourself – your likes, dislikes, turn- on’ s etc. It might sound stupid – why would you ask yourself these? After all they are your likes and dislikes, right? But it makes a lot of difference to reinforce them – eat your favorite flavor of ice cream occasionally, read your favorite novel if you feel like. Enjoy it, and be done with it. Make a list of all the things you want to do in life and assert your individuality - "THIS IS WHAT I AM AND I LOVE TO BE ME"... Believe me you will see the world in a completely new perspective and the effect is immediate... <br />
<br />
Expression is the tougher and more important part. If mastered it gives you a strong sense of individuality – a uniqueness that you will love to have, to nurture and be proud of. It consists of expressing your thoughts and feelings to others in a polite but assertive fashion. Avoid getting into long debates with people – especially with close friends. If there is a debate there is a difference of opinion – which means there is a clash in identity. Do not budge from your stand, at the same time accept that what he/she feels is right for him/her and you respect that fact. Get rid of sarcasm during conversations with loved ones, it does no good. Besides, find ways to express and enforce your feelings by discussing them with people who understand how you feel. Share your thoughts with such people and reinforce your personality. Other creative ways to express yourself include writing prose (I am doing that right now) or composing music of your taste, or making paintings, taking photographs, videos… the list is endless. But all these are forms of YOUR Expression and will help you discover yourself much better.<br />
<br />
What I have written over here is my personal belief, my feelings about the topic. It is not my intention to "preach" any of this - it just reinforces my thoughts about how to establish my identity. It may be inappropriate in some ways to you, but then if it just triggers a thought about who you think you are - then i have done my part of it :)<br />
<br />
So, I have found my way of expression – have you found yours? If not get going on this wonderful journey to answer the question “WHO AM I”?<br />
<br />
I AM NOT WHO YOU THINK I AM; I AM WHAT I THINK I AM.<br />
<br />
P.S: Listen to “The Logical Song” by Supertramp. Quite similar in meaning ☺Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-20011578291670404702011-05-26T12:58:00.000-07:002011-05-26T12:58:22.776-07:00The Death of a "Feeling"Recently I read a blog post from a fellow blogger, where she mentioned how the feeling of “Love” in couples these days lacks the “warmth” that it used to have. After thinking upon this for quite some time, I had some startling realizations – which made my hair stand on end. I feel it is important for one and all to realize these things because sooner or later they are going to affect us – affect mankind. <br />
<br />
So, what is all this fuss about? Well, we human beings consider ourselves far superior to other birds and animals, because we can “think” and “feel” a variety of intellectual and emotional content. Accepted, though we have no means to verify if animals and birds also have equally complex feelings. But think of it – is our capacity to “feel” the same today, as it was yesterday? I doubt it. And that is what worries me the most. <br />
<br />
Many times I have come across teenagers and young men swearing at each other:<br />
A: “Hey “$%^&” how do you do?” and B happily replies:<br />
B: I am great “&%$#”, how are you?<br />
<br />
And they both have a nice laugh and continue this most interesting conversation. Ask yourself – what is happening here? Why does the abuse have no effect at all on the other person? Well, apparently they are “used” to speaking such a language… and so they know, its alright if they are abused… But do you sense the death of a “feeling” here? <br />
<br />
The television and Internet have taken over all information transfer completely. They have variety of advertisements, movies, programs, videos etc. To my dismay most of it is becoming very senseless these days – just as senseless as those two people abusing each other without the teensiest effect. And as time passes, those exposed to such crude programs that use emotions wrongly, are also gradually getting de-sensitized… Every other movie is a love story – and so a 13 year old will tell you 50 different kinds of love story. Now how special do you think will a feeling like “Love” be to that kid? Feelings like mother’s affection are being used to advertise mosquito repellents… what kind of crazy association is this? It is really sad that we have created technology for our convenience but in the process are killing our own emotional superiority… <br />
<br />
Take the word “Fuck”. It is used for just anything and everything… the actual feeling associated with it is DEAD for all practical purposes. Everyone knows its “definition” but it is used everywhere without reason, and whatever was the feeling associated with the word is now practically extinct. Even 8 – 9 year olds use the word now.<br />
<br />
Can you see what I am worried about? If extinction of animals, energy resources, birds and natural resources is a concern then extinction of “FEELINGS” is a much more important concern! Think of it – 100 years down the line people will be talking all kinds of weird things, with blunt minds that cannot feel emotions!! May be dogs will have more emotional capacity than humans then – lucky dogs do not watch TV!! <br />
<br />
The poems and texts written by renowned authors of the past like Kalidasa, Veda Vyasa etc. do not interest the current generation youth much – can you now see reason? The feelings that existed well preserved due to careful and precise usage of language and expression during that golden era are extinct now, and sadly there is no way to get them back, just no way!! The words of the texts remain, but nothing of the feelings associated exist… <br />
<br />
I am really concerned about the fate of future generations… I wish people who work for media, marketing, and other kind of public activities take appropriate measures to preserve feelings by using them appropriately and occasionally to avoid excess dilution. I urge all readers to make it a practice to speak while actually keeping in mind the feeling associated and to learn to evoke precise feelings at appropriate times. <br />
<br />
Luckily, Indian languages still have not lost the feelings as much as English… no wonder talking in Hindi sometimes gives us that “warm brotherly or sisterly” feeling that we hardly ever get while using English… But even Hindi has started losing some of its charm of late, thanks to all kinds of commercials in Hindi, and of course Bollywood. The only language, whose literature is untarnished, shines bright and free of any kind of dilution or loss of feeling is – Sanskrit. I urge readers to at least try (whenever there is leisure) to learn some Sanskrit and read available literature… I have tried it, and though it is slightly difficult (mainly because the feelings have been lost in daily life) once you get used to it, it is so beautiful… <br />
<br />
Last but not the least it is a request to all readers to spread this message to all your friends, because the uniqueness of mankind is at stake… <br />
<br />
Thank you for patiently going through the writing. Hope it was useful.Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1850380731220312735.post-90217020033937969492011-04-11T12:24:00.000-07:002011-04-11T12:24:56.737-07:00Poem Dedicated to Friends<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CStudent%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CStudent%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CStudent%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"></link> <m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><style>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>When you say “I am There”</b></span></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CStudent%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml" rel="File-List"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CStudent%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx" rel="themeData"></link><link href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CStudent%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml" rel="colorSchemeMapping"></link> <m:smallfrac m:val="off"> <m:dispdef> <m:lmargin m:val="0"> <m:rmargin m:val="0"> <m:defjc m:val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent m:val="1440"> <m:intlim m:val="subSup"> <m:narylim m:val="undOvr"> </m:narylim></m:intlim> </m:wrapindent><style>
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</style> </m:defjc></m:rmargin></m:lmargin></m:dispdef></m:smallfrac></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">I wonder what magic you bear,</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">When you just say “I am there”</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Just when things all fall apart</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">When my body trembles with fear,</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">I wonder what happens dear</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">When you just say “I am here”</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Till today it’s a mystery to me</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Even at the worst moments of time</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Just when all seems lost</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">When I am just about to succumb to the toil,</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">How my lips break widen into a smile</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">When you just say “Your troubles are mine”</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Life is a long journey</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And I am progressing in leaps and bounds</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And I am extremely lucky,</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">You are really God – sent</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Coz had it not been for you my friend,</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">I wonder where the journey would end…</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"> By N.C. Puneeth</div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
</div>Puneethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17948699265805745721noreply@blogger.com0