tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31266370344761879892024-03-20T13:42:31.749+05:30Being Honest"We do not make choices. Our choices make us. It's not our abilities that makes us who we are but our choices that sets us apart."sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-84423809536011755842022-06-22T13:21:00.013+05:302022-07-04T19:38:00.993+05:30The Week Of Wonder !!<p><span style="font-size: x-small;">" Chaliye Team !! " - I woke up startled, disoriented, and half expecting to crawl out of my sleeping bag. In a moment I realized, I was dreaming, one of those disjointed pre dawn dreams. I trudged out of my bed, poured myself a glass of water and headed out to the balcony. Not a soul stirred, as I looked up at the prussian blue sky recalling the surreal week I just had. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">It all started for us back in December, 2021. Having cancelled a couple of Himalayan treks already due to COVID-19, I was growing increasingly restless. I casually called out to my better half Rwiti - "Let's attempt Buran Ghati. It's going to be tricky, but if we manage to pull it off, I promise it's going to be worth it". I had raved on about this trek for a year and perhaps sensing the desperation in my voice, she gave in - "Let's do it." </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fast forward to April end, having prepared physically as much as our schedules would allow us, there was nervous excitement we approached June 4th, the day our trek would commence. Backpacks packed and with quiet anticipation, we set off. We flew to Chandigarh, stayed the night in Kalka before heading to Shimla. Dodging aggressive tourists, we found ourselves a nice little café called the <i>Honey Hut,</i> somewhere down the Mall road. We barely spoke during dinner, our minds already on the trek. </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic75NrTHOQw83A2wkoJyrVnEy55_QibfUNMqg89UHx-Gn6SxQZIH-2y1X8_uUy6AknqJNkbfFr8qYQVGJtryPRKonRUEN2yE4fj8HrCKAEdYs3TKmr-usSq9cVfhhGU4N3L3GMQYVrbV7lJmAbXozO9ZPCNoQfO5xTg_45Ox_S4JTBT9HjTeii06Yr/s4032/IMG_9042.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic75NrTHOQw83A2wkoJyrVnEy55_QibfUNMqg89UHx-Gn6SxQZIH-2y1X8_uUy6AknqJNkbfFr8qYQVGJtryPRKonRUEN2yE4fj8HrCKAEdYs3TKmr-usSq9cVfhhGU4N3L3GMQYVrbV7lJmAbXozO9ZPCNoQfO5xTg_45Ox_S4JTBT9HjTeii06Yr/s320/IMG_9042.HEIC" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><span style="font-size: x-small;">Shimla to Janglik</span></u></b></div><p><span style="font-size: x-small;">We reached the Shimla Old Bus stand at 5.30 AM , where we were supposed to meet the India Hikes (IH) team and our fellow trekkers. The group was as diverse as it gets but also one who shared a common goal. We stopped for breakfast and couple of hours later for lunch at a place called Chirgaon. It became quickly apparent that we were leaving the concrete jungle far behind and slowly but surely immersing ourselves in the lap of nature.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKtyWmEmzqso8jWLBwe3FF9u4HOnK3QZulQGJsOimCHAXtuuVMc0kKYoFkVhRQQbnTXWNoXLzlZE5mqP7oOLQ6irapEtW8snrvpQBLFfQERwyL9jF0Gip7oCun5XyH6UlBj_lHyNZC1yXcHkUOBIuo_rOLKvkjRz2QwpI8AUzBj4eff8y23Mb1-d1v/s4032/IMG-9057.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKtyWmEmzqso8jWLBwe3FF9u4HOnK3QZulQGJsOimCHAXtuuVMc0kKYoFkVhRQQbnTXWNoXLzlZE5mqP7oOLQ6irapEtW8snrvpQBLFfQERwyL9jF0Gip7oCun5XyH6UlBj_lHyNZC1yXcHkUOBIuo_rOLKvkjRz2QwpI8AUzBj4eff8y23Mb1-d1v/s320/IMG-9057.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPfldaXNbMsRS375JrtoDsca79TViJZjJrygg2TjvfHvgSiw5F5P5Qm6aRICNZ3kePg_cHKJwyiF2n1k3ANQqXQ27Uof4jn-I-kdYgi-cIhQxdm851BnYxJvcbdsPjSHFQIizC5hBd3FB7Ky87EhHLfwq-am4IwUqIrMGzh6P_m-bRZ_5p70FMqwA/s4032/IMG-9052.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnPfldaXNbMsRS375JrtoDsca79TViJZjJrygg2TjvfHvgSiw5F5P5Qm6aRICNZ3kePg_cHKJwyiF2n1k3ANQqXQ27Uof4jn-I-kdYgi-cIhQxdm851BnYxJvcbdsPjSHFQIizC5hBd3FB7Ky87EhHLfwq-am4IwUqIrMGzh6P_m-bRZ_5p70FMqwA/s320/IMG-9052.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The road to our Basecamp at Janglik along the Pabbar river was bumpy at times but allowed some fascinating views! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyeTZZPPrwRBe4LUOCTERnFawlWF9K9xC9k1tdhRfMWkLL1fOL_uh23R6BrMvZSArXFeldiIrchuJkBH5R3wSLphh-V_dZVFt5r6qa6q0bJ1Uin4uYwalIEy0-vjvMHfv_KaO9div0QpVuDDs_O5jwMuuwED8ou6Z-cnGy1s0pYf7dFbir0qVtODbh/s1600/e47fc380-1674-4f10-8dd1-15bd17f76a5e.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyeTZZPPrwRBe4LUOCTERnFawlWF9K9xC9k1tdhRfMWkLL1fOL_uh23R6BrMvZSArXFeldiIrchuJkBH5R3wSLphh-V_dZVFt5r6qa6q0bJ1Uin4uYwalIEy0-vjvMHfv_KaO9div0QpVuDDs_O5jwMuuwED8ou6Z-cnGy1s0pYf7dFbir0qVtODbh/s320/e47fc380-1674-4f10-8dd1-15bd17f76a5e.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We reached Janglik at 3.30 PM. As we sipped our welcome drinks, we met Nishant, our trek lead. We were also introduced to Thakur<i> Ji </i>and Hansraj<i> Ji</i> - our local guides and pillars for this trek. Janglik was at an altitude of over 9200 feet, one of the highest basecamps of IH. We quickly gathered around for our trek briefing where our vitals were checked, we understood each trek day, the risk points, a brief tutorial on backpacks etc. We also understood about water conversation and <b><i>Green Trails, </i>an India Hikes initiative<i>. </i></b>Collecting waste during our journey would be our only way to give something back to the mountains that would nestle us for the upcoming week. There was slight chill in the air as we had our dinner and pulled up our blankets , a last bit of comfort :)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><span style="font-size: x-small;">Janglik to Dayara</span></u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We started off sharp at 8 AM next morning. As we climbed out of Janglik we were greeted with delightful coniferous forests abundant in Pine , Spruce and Fir Trees. Streaks of morning sunshine piercing through the trees made a fascinating view. Nishant took a minute to explain how to differentiate those trees and also how they were never native to India but originally planted by the British !!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y_g7Z_vNnKbbgrTDeR7LhU6hBSCr9hdbMElQjcxEwxu4Wv91-8v3Bt4xywjGEEpuDzUSeny4zdShQcEYHR4wz_HUvVBjYipwC6zqT4A4isvLQgPEPSX5fUDqUNO9NdOd3Z5tF9IFrzk2ulJeL3_2PzaiEtm_P7EUZKarsJrabCh7cYD0F5KiEdpv/s4032/IMG-9104.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Y_g7Z_vNnKbbgrTDeR7LhU6hBSCr9hdbMElQjcxEwxu4Wv91-8v3Bt4xywjGEEpuDzUSeny4zdShQcEYHR4wz_HUvVBjYipwC6zqT4A4isvLQgPEPSX5fUDqUNO9NdOd3Z5tF9IFrzk2ulJeL3_2PzaiEtm_P7EUZKarsJrabCh7cYD0F5KiEdpv/s320/IMG-9104.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As we climbed out of the forest, through the citrusy pungent fragrance of pine cones, the Dayara meadows were setting in and the majestic <i>wall</i> separating Rupin Pass and Buran Ghati was now clearly visible. Soon enough, we noticed one of the trekkers of a different batch making her way down. She was hit with AMS and had low oxygen levels. It was a stark reminder that mountains can be extremely beautiful and very unforgiving at the same time if one doesn't take care of themselves as much as they can. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehU3ANtjjcsrIYsF-Hyg4GwUaqzrmkPs4DVIdB1DthKUKXQWTVR3nGII3a10blKwKLHvkLl8fxUC9An1uxeS2V-wfw426qyI9eGKQyhKzjt4pfdhlHEGUSE7OWUuCPPj8OCS8Vdg48RBW5syO5IFgFYS6az2ZBxxPJ4zNTen31Rw3b_86pyS0n7IB/s4032/IMG-9122.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehU3ANtjjcsrIYsF-Hyg4GwUaqzrmkPs4DVIdB1DthKUKXQWTVR3nGII3a10blKwKLHvkLl8fxUC9An1uxeS2V-wfw426qyI9eGKQyhKzjt4pfdhlHEGUSE7OWUuCPPj8OCS8Vdg48RBW5syO5IFgFYS6az2ZBxxPJ4zNTen31Rw3b_86pyS0n7IB/s320/IMG-9122.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We trekked on to arrive at a beautiful clearing where to our surprise, we saw a little Dhaba, the last we would find on this trek. The climb was steady till now and there was nothing more welcoming than a cup of tea. With the trek well and truly on, it was time for our first team activity where we had to write our worries in dry leaves and bury it where we could. It was a beautiful setting for quiet reflection and the whole idea was to leave behind the <i>worldly worries</i> and proceed to the <i>trek with an open mind and a willingness to accept and embrace whatever nature had in store for us. </i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLt9ECcZgg5RW8o7C1GmP6DCjd7aHBSzptaTsituE-KjCiix_C-640MMGac9DeoAbrLLBYIJYe0tOgkhqRNvYnzLopSKLDVN4dys7lrWETVcQhq1Ot-pRPGO0jyCCEWYvX1GZDNRhRoGr8v8fZkrXcp5TGWeUYe6cgt7Ax4X6WE8zJF4KndWlRn4T/s4032/IMG-9126.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzLt9ECcZgg5RW8o7C1GmP6DCjd7aHBSzptaTsituE-KjCiix_C-640MMGac9DeoAbrLLBYIJYe0tOgkhqRNvYnzLopSKLDVN4dys7lrWETVcQhq1Ot-pRPGO0jyCCEWYvX1GZDNRhRoGr8v8fZkrXcp5TGWeUYe6cgt7Ax4X6WE8zJF4KndWlRn4T/s320/IMG-9126.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Feeling content and full of positivity, we arrived at our WOW moment for the day. So, there we were, on a narrow mountain side path approaching a blind corner. Team Activity II - Hold each other, close our eyes, put our trust on the person in front of us and walk a 100 meters. Once everyone had turned the corner, we had to open our eyes together. We did and let out a collective gasp - our first campsite in perhaps the most breathtaking landscapes I had ever seen !!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">This activity taught us an important lesson - In mountains there is no I, we complete the trek as a team or we don't. Leaving anyone behind wasn't on the cards and in order to finish this, we needed to put complete trust on each other in the team.</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTidSH7_KUiJj3gz6om8-oETzMzWaOoPQC0dZgWt6tbY9zVKrgX7PLXhnBfX8s54j1tMxbxAMGLdls-RNchE0_gEg2lm29h10GSGeo0ukctJS6Cza3n4sZbYJnpz8M6van3M3MxckrTD5htSlPOrilBuo5ihbmCYuUtIKLpDBEtV3jM4010eQMkK4/s4032/IMG-9143.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoTidSH7_KUiJj3gz6om8-oETzMzWaOoPQC0dZgWt6tbY9zVKrgX7PLXhnBfX8s54j1tMxbxAMGLdls-RNchE0_gEg2lm29h10GSGeo0ukctJS6Cza3n4sZbYJnpz8M6van3M3MxckrTD5htSlPOrilBuo5ihbmCYuUtIKLpDBEtV3jM4010eQMkK4/s320/IMG-9143.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gaping in awe and marveling at nature around us, we reached our first campsite at Dayara at 11075 feet. The Dayara meadows had surpassed expectations and even though we trekked for 5 hours straight, people got busy. Few team members went on short hikes, few sketched, few even managed to kick about a football. Our spirits were as wild as the wildflowers in full bloom.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0X6aigK51-FoTi2za1o32wZ8PQYDUbAhpsJ2yvLx-pzE5JeNa2JIOJU8eI6TZ4CJ5H2Giug95mJjJ73txdn6YUAi2FNQyMYdHvfauvMkRkrwVkd646sLHrt-Bn7XQeRz934T2cOGY705HaMtzdgfm6XLrKprQrrgMGYBMA5kcdebURsokyoryFm3/s1920/DSC00643.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik0X6aigK51-FoTi2za1o32wZ8PQYDUbAhpsJ2yvLx-pzE5JeNa2JIOJU8eI6TZ4CJ5H2Giug95mJjJ73txdn6YUAi2FNQyMYdHvfauvMkRkrwVkd646sLHrt-Bn7XQeRz934T2cOGY705HaMtzdgfm6XLrKprQrrgMGYBMA5kcdebURsokyoryFm3/s320/DSC00643.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtO0sb6YMizs7ao3na8Odqikm8sevxpasDOT-3cGZCugBg9yDYfYI1JZxnuLwsltW2Pt9lKe-NB50kJFEJDNP8T4cJaDV-9dBj88Yop9XDGHo7d_bziG6gA9NJCl3k0risBYb5g4NQlR3T3Vr9Q2F1Kpe-Z-ilAaFRy0Us2s2N-UnUY57ESPVY2a6Y/s4032/IMG-9159.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtO0sb6YMizs7ao3na8Odqikm8sevxpasDOT-3cGZCugBg9yDYfYI1JZxnuLwsltW2Pt9lKe-NB50kJFEJDNP8T4cJaDV-9dBj88Yop9XDGHo7d_bziG6gA9NJCl3k0risBYb5g4NQlR3T3Vr9Q2F1Kpe-Z-ilAaFRy0Us2s2N-UnUY57ESPVY2a6Y/s320/IMG-9159.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxWkSWlRU3nnJI7VcbGU3jBw_UlKjrtSKAiSRgYj3qzEs_amcs-ud160Fylo2dhc7bDdV1_yXG1DuHCSDCWm4YAZDynq5WZEqnGJYysqcEePBEuLZ4f87Ui4CIo_8JuYtS2GAdDxdlxwWx267W1FSOJqf5AIqCXBVGI4PlyKDhom2nMSy8_vXJGMC/s4032/IMG-9160.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvxWkSWlRU3nnJI7VcbGU3jBw_UlKjrtSKAiSRgYj3qzEs_amcs-ud160Fylo2dhc7bDdV1_yXG1DuHCSDCWm4YAZDynq5WZEqnGJYysqcEePBEuLZ4f87Ui4CIo_8JuYtS2GAdDxdlxwWx267W1FSOJqf5AIqCXBVGI4PlyKDhom2nMSy8_vXJGMC/s320/IMG-9160.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dayara remains personally my favorite campsite. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dayara to Litham</span></u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">At 11737 feet, Litham would be our only campsite where we would stay for two nights. Rested and knowing we had a relatively easy day ahead, we set off from Dayara at 8 AM next morning. Short climbs along the mountain sides, we passed through more of rolling meadows and staggering views admiring the surreal and brilliant shades of green and blue. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWD-jTe2X_XZJYA9kEcIljsqSI6-NinR6zbnj15W6AqHAda3hyA7ga9cR0dLSZJNOI36ThxIv4Ix6SIH8UCRAra1_SVx6DyUkZKBQM0HQQHb0iiLwhSfbgBJ0Qwph3jMZHUjIReeketTpeKbXsEpGQPAZiTotAW5mRWyG8Q7dLQ8QdXiU-QEF3IkY3/s4032/IMG-9196.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWD-jTe2X_XZJYA9kEcIljsqSI6-NinR6zbnj15W6AqHAda3hyA7ga9cR0dLSZJNOI36ThxIv4Ix6SIH8UCRAra1_SVx6DyUkZKBQM0HQQHb0iiLwhSfbgBJ0Qwph3jMZHUjIReeketTpeKbXsEpGQPAZiTotAW5mRWyG8Q7dLQ8QdXiU-QEF3IkY3/s320/IMG-9196.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The sun shone brightly on us, which also meant our water reserves were quickly drying up. As if the trek and nature were curated for each other, we approached a water source. With it's glacial sources, the stream water, combined with it's beautiful setting quenched our thirst and souls.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMWoSke2bnqt7Sq9xfLt6VbM5l6gdx1EnjELNzpynOOHdvOTVfL2J0mJVCl19tidHjfQx3xV7jj24q0f_M0n0cDYVLHfnk-5Zzgs58VL7JKic_QeNRwTPsDr1hIZBQZ832RnxuXP2t23U6QsnV7-GztuLcPCwkCd3HgiuAUUIvckY4U7vsU83Bo30s/s4032/IMG-9188.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMWoSke2bnqt7Sq9xfLt6VbM5l6gdx1EnjELNzpynOOHdvOTVfL2J0mJVCl19tidHjfQx3xV7jj24q0f_M0n0cDYVLHfnk-5Zzgs58VL7JKic_QeNRwTPsDr1hIZBQZ832RnxuXP2t23U6QsnV7-GztuLcPCwkCd3HgiuAUUIvckY4U7vsU83Bo30s/s320/IMG-9188.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As we proceeded towards Litham we took a break, where we came across a row of Birch trees. The bark of a Birch tree also known as " Bhojpatra " has a deep rooted history. Our religious texts, Ramayana / Mahabharata / Purans were all written on Bhojpatra and it was believed if you wrote something on it with all your heart it would come true !</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1EyiUvRRj-iOWnOdBGWHvlVifMxSWgrk8LABWpFV3Eo4rPQhQappZTL0yKcPMyANhDZfGEX6fQB4CSuTASfijkwni8PonBUn0eI-_fDE80oTKHkik3u9a6FN9tp9NnJ5WlMqz6XxbsQ5fkDjpMo1vrtPu_vUhi2KYtpZcZ2E8bW87hx3mMds7Cnn/s4032/IMG-9165.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1EyiUvRRj-iOWnOdBGWHvlVifMxSWgrk8LABWpFV3Eo4rPQhQappZTL0yKcPMyANhDZfGEX6fQB4CSuTASfijkwni8PonBUn0eI-_fDE80oTKHkik3u9a6FN9tp9NnJ5WlMqz6XxbsQ5fkDjpMo1vrtPu_vUhi2KYtpZcZ2E8bW87hx3mMds7Cnn/s320/IMG-9165.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">We reached Litham, our second campsite by 1 PM and ate lunch after finishing our cool down stretches. We went in to the kitchen tent meeting and greeting the team, as we did at every campsite. The IH kitchen teams were the real stars behind the scenes, working round the clock to ensure the trek groups, arriving in tandem, were well fed. Every meal was a surprise and hardly disappointing. There would be no trek without these shy individuals. It was inspiring to hear about them and their journeys with IH !!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Up next was volley ball sessions ! What started with 5-6 people soon escalated to more than 20 people ! - Porters, Kitchen Team, our fellow trekkers all joining in for a wee bit of fun. Sport, at any point in time can bridge gaps and bring complete strangers together to have a good time, even in mountains! </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4t3ZF1-ee8ClW6xDAtGoGnhANb_9sam0x1DXu8GYcMaGju4Xt6mA75CpuvDS9ENp4IfZN3rRU03AiVfCruDyT2GBreBhXZ5md2hpBUIGjs9f44LWms8tJKESjgn0Ftew_reOBr5AFyKjwwRN6KsN1rUl2pVzDs7mqBWaUfGaI59hHjLANf44VAZls/s4032/IMG-9247.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4t3ZF1-ee8ClW6xDAtGoGnhANb_9sam0x1DXu8GYcMaGju4Xt6mA75CpuvDS9ENp4IfZN3rRU03AiVfCruDyT2GBreBhXZ5md2hpBUIGjs9f44LWms8tJKESjgn0Ftew_reOBr5AFyKjwwRN6KsN1rUl2pVzDs7mqBWaUfGaI59hHjLANf44VAZls/s320/IMG-9247.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The evening allowed us time to sit and reflect around the breathtakingly beautiful Litham Campsite. Some chose to sit and pen down their thoughts, some chose moments of quiet reflection, some chose taking a short hike and quite a few of our fellow trekkers chose to join Nishant for a rock climbing session across the river. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrffvhEcmUbL9yOkvk7WBvI7Ugh06fhRugxt7s7SYDIRDphZbM-Z3fj6_BJZDcb0foEBv836ijRwKFUcl_D3JnB6-Yd_Nnkoba0_v6-PhbCR-TJtBdU4VJwcIDHdUIql6LG_TC7O8t5BV04ic_6PHgmOUBkfjyoPz0P-MC-DBluypkARa1jB-sJms/s4032/IMG-9253.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrffvhEcmUbL9yOkvk7WBvI7Ugh06fhRugxt7s7SYDIRDphZbM-Z3fj6_BJZDcb0foEBv836ijRwKFUcl_D3JnB6-Yd_Nnkoba0_v6-PhbCR-TJtBdU4VJwcIDHdUIql6LG_TC7O8t5BV04ic_6PHgmOUBkfjyoPz0P-MC-DBluypkARa1jB-sJms/s320/IMG-9253.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A mention for Thakur <i>Ji</i> and Hansraj <i>Ji</i> - Standing in the freezing river for more than half an hour, they guided the team across the river. Words would do very little justice to what both of them meant for us during this trek. From holding hands in difficult sections, to always responding with a <i>'Bilkul</i>' for any and every untimely requests to them, to their countless reassurances of '<i>Koi nahi, ho jaega ji</i>' whenever the going got tough - they were our pillars and support systems for the whole trek - wholesome individuals who left their impressions on all of us for life. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmJiudoRyNRUn0TjuV4OUnURHu4fLTimmh2yAze6JqQ1iHPUyZWbq54h8imfLGMsnh3fXYXypy3CKl2zZKiBaw-z4k8LW4a4aPmz7ETj_hZE6zkQfZwoHl_GNunM7ytmvi4doJIZ7rImeJah5yk2nR8_22_wEhurf5wjbHriob841J6nY6SY0l8HJ/s4000/IMG-20220606-170412.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmJiudoRyNRUn0TjuV4OUnURHu4fLTimmh2yAze6JqQ1iHPUyZWbq54h8imfLGMsnh3fXYXypy3CKl2zZKiBaw-z4k8LW4a4aPmz7ETj_hZE6zkQfZwoHl_GNunM7ytmvi4doJIZ7rImeJah5yk2nR8_22_wEhurf5wjbHriob841J6nY6SY0l8HJ/s320/IMG-20220606-170412.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Amazing teamwork crossing the freezing river !! </span></b></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwfO2olm1T4UfC8fLzlw_N-kg_-DNOHjD9GQYo02ENr2VGKTg4WAO04a4umkvnw7lgLKCu2tqcvclDcxy03n-iEW1Z_PWT16Wq-FjU7iQpPdrhhbdPIZdONjpKvfY4mCblPQf3k_oOvKnp2qEnS82aZSGcAM2grQMl0mxhz5WHa2T_6QbtdN7pCy5/s4000/IMG-20220606-172403.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkwfO2olm1T4UfC8fLzlw_N-kg_-DNOHjD9GQYo02ENr2VGKTg4WAO04a4umkvnw7lgLKCu2tqcvclDcxy03n-iEW1Z_PWT16Wq-FjU7iQpPdrhhbdPIZdONjpKvfY4mCblPQf3k_oOvKnp2qEnS82aZSGcAM2grQMl0mxhz5WHa2T_6QbtdN7pCy5/s320/IMG-20220606-172403.JPEG" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"> <b> Nishant, going above and beyond, as he did so often during the trek</b><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;">We would have dinner by 7.30 PM sharp and as I settled down in our tent and into my sleeping bag, I contemplated how far away and far removed from civilization I was and with the gentle roar of the river in the background, I drifted to sleep. </span><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><b><u><span style="font-size: x-small;">Litham to Chandrnahan</span></u></b></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our fourth day of the trek was all about acclimatizing. <i>" Trek high, sleep low "</i> - As Nishant would tell us. We had a trek distance of almost 7 km and an expected altitude gain of almost 2300 feet. As it was a round trip, it meant we travelled with only our daypacks and any relief due to that soon faded as we got right into it tackling steep climbs at the offset. The agenda of the day was to get to as many lakes in Chandrnahan as we could (there were seven of them) within our turnaround time. Within an hour or so , after few steep climbs, we looked back to our Litham campsite, our tents were nothing but specks of yellow..</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZrKeD88XTeEfD9M5x78LJiuv_GAn-1oIvVuTqIwK1F3eBmvo-iL5Lf2B57uAA8Oz22fXdNOeKWSIQdpX9_h2rTNGZ47sahz5CC_NLSh1FH_IKZLE2car23zIIzB-NR9vlYUHIw9uvoN3YWqRWnCoqT6FKakHp0ZjBsWSXLzROLIbbEZOBVkKOeSFB/s4032/IMG-9287.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZrKeD88XTeEfD9M5x78LJiuv_GAn-1oIvVuTqIwK1F3eBmvo-iL5Lf2B57uAA8Oz22fXdNOeKWSIQdpX9_h2rTNGZ47sahz5CC_NLSh1FH_IKZLE2car23zIIzB-NR9vlYUHIw9uvoN3YWqRWnCoqT6FKakHp0ZjBsWSXLzROLIbbEZOBVkKOeSFB/s320/IMG-9287.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Having reached the first lake within a couple of hours, the team was ready to push on but at this point there was a terrain change as well. Gone were the days of carefree hikes along Dayara meadows as we made our way past spectacular , large and precarious boulder sections, a more rugged terrain reminiscent of Kashmir trails. We reached a lake, took a pause and pushed on to the next. We were gaining altitude fast which meant one needed to keep up their water intake and be very vigilant for any signs of AMS. We soon reached the fifth lake - a spectacle - nestled between mountains , this turquoise colored lake was the best of the lot!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuzfgiB5zx5RgKMv3AEu4Jre-YQCSioL3WduRYO8z5PTq6WvQz-gzD_AJpdYeC6GWYc76VppG62OBIxYsq2s8PsDsIfdXC4PW_LaI2NBPXIaHUM5Mtezu0Dz_sB1Ip0lO3okF20hkO0xo2PfNefKppdbApBjoq3_leOsqU8KtFUsTPvSHTbHMWmAL/s3863/IMG-9300.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3018" data-original-width="3863" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUuzfgiB5zx5RgKMv3AEu4Jre-YQCSioL3WduRYO8z5PTq6WvQz-gzD_AJpdYeC6GWYc76VppG62OBIxYsq2s8PsDsIfdXC4PW_LaI2NBPXIaHUM5Mtezu0Dz_sB1Ip0lO3okF20hkO0xo2PfNefKppdbApBjoq3_leOsqU8KtFUsTPvSHTbHMWmAL/s320/IMG-9300.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lake Six and seven of Chandrnahan were bit of an uncharted territory as most teams would turn back from the fifth. We were within our turn around time, so most of the team, resilient and ambitious, pushed on to lake six, quite a steep climb, which took them above 14000 feet ! At such heights, weather conditions turn pretty quick so we started descent, making our way down. Taking short breaks, this was our first day in the trek where we were pushed physically and mentally and it was almost 3PM when we reached our campsite, drained and spent. My mind was craving sleep but our bodies needed to acclimatize so while the team scattered about, few of us ended up chatting with Nishant, as the sun set over the valley, on a crowd favorite topic - paranormal experiences on mountains !</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">The day was not done and Nishant, took brief lessons on how to pitch a tent, light a portable stove and several other must have skillsets we would need if and when we ventured out for DIY treks. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6QHKD4qSZ2Qrq2FcaAX4JI-H2JixmMn86jgoiIQ7qQp-Yb9BkO9KMvLxkVCEUfRRxFFtXHeOCPxX3ne4gxGUwCgowJQPFcJ0e0QI3ucaF1BiQ8NuxzQU_Nw9bI3QKK6LSFBKZ5LGjhbHKAVdRz9dgTITOOFO1zhxYYyv3DWFMIkigVGjGbcKbybk/s3280/IMG-20220607-172403.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2464" data-original-width="3280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6QHKD4qSZ2Qrq2FcaAX4JI-H2JixmMn86jgoiIQ7qQp-Yb9BkO9KMvLxkVCEUfRRxFFtXHeOCPxX3ne4gxGUwCgowJQPFcJ0e0QI3ucaF1BiQ8NuxzQU_Nw9bI3QKK6LSFBKZ5LGjhbHKAVdRz9dgTITOOFO1zhxYYyv3DWFMIkigVGjGbcKbybk/s320/IMG-20220607-172403.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi5V1eQBlzPLvOMIK1Sf-I3CPsq0VnCU2RVbJ-X9JGaXnJLV2lLZqvioD3HDKXUNQNh4WB92BQEYTou_OzohViNlDyElP6ESdJiVTE4GCOf4TIm4XEbtMYx_lGF6JSDJCr9dCB9Dx6QrGdBjbQGW3ckbI61BsPZrccAGnBNGEL1RhOip1M0EK0sW74/s3280/IMG-20220607-175654.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2464" data-original-width="3280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi5V1eQBlzPLvOMIK1Sf-I3CPsq0VnCU2RVbJ-X9JGaXnJLV2lLZqvioD3HDKXUNQNh4WB92BQEYTou_OzohViNlDyElP6ESdJiVTE4GCOf4TIm4XEbtMYx_lGF6JSDJCr9dCB9Dx6QrGdBjbQGW3ckbI61BsPZrccAGnBNGEL1RhOip1M0EK0sW74/s320/IMG-20220607-175654.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGTU9RDmgnsQ3Q9XDxu2tHy9gUFr34yZJjBdu0je3PelHpUwOBwAvyClt8t-ZltaRMUHnVtalR5D0NBFWPXQTn0Vwto2dRROk0twMtBzXOGm-PRp6uyeUUJN5VRbExIbAye63iuroyGW_9RiJSSROE-osAifRcCiMeM8BVmTspn55JaHTKYp99B3U/s4000/IMG-20220607-210349.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGTU9RDmgnsQ3Q9XDxu2tHy9gUFr34yZJjBdu0je3PelHpUwOBwAvyClt8t-ZltaRMUHnVtalR5D0NBFWPXQTn0Vwto2dRROk0twMtBzXOGm-PRp6uyeUUJN5VRbExIbAye63iuroyGW_9RiJSSROE-osAifRcCiMeM8BVmTspn55JaHTKYp99B3U/s320/IMG-20220607-210349.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Cautiously optimistic about my rigours for the day and feeling quite jaded to be honest all I hoped for as I chained up our tent was a good and uninterrupted night's sleep. However, having to consume almost 6 litres of water a day comes at a price. Sure enough, after what felt like thirty minutes I was lying awake in my sleeping bag pondering ways in which I could delay the visit to our bio toilets. It was all futile. I started the process of getting out of the sleeping liners and bags, layering up, putting the headlamp on - literally heading for war. I looked at my watch - 1.45 AM - Bloody hell. I chuckled inside, although I could easily have been shivering. <i>Suffering, This is the good stuff</i>. I got out of the tent, to cold drafty winds and complete darkness. Getting on, I looked up - staring at the night sky for the next minute, transfixed. There it was , <i>The Milky way</i> and the sky studded with stars, so many of them!! Standing outside with pitch black darkness all around, roar of the river, sound of the mountains and a sky full of stars, I felt small, insignificant and primal. It's one of those moments which will stay with me forever. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><b><u><span style="font-size: x-small;">Litham to Dhunda</span></u></b></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">One of the rituals that we followed without fail was a team prayer before we started off on our journey for the day. Being at the mercy of nature, we soon realized the controls that we would exert in our regular lives would be of little use in the mountains. Being thankful and grateful wasn't an imposed feeling, it was something we all felt naturally. As if the weather gods up there listened to our prayers, and as had happened on most other days, the sun rose brightly behind the mountains as we sipped on our morning 'chai' at Litham.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeiLi9Awdbj6-faTwZ5ief886GXr8EaPi7G7vR9KHR60eSzf2X4yRs7SWkwpR-IC6cN8opuCgg1nMVWHOTtcDOK2QesMBsTFWcm7VN1oIsivXLpxUHTNJkKtxhENR0hP_ITGxPWI3SbsCC0-abDTWSVg2xeIUzWvH_TIfhA97f-YnYWV_SH_pGOAv6/s4032/IMG-9286.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeiLi9Awdbj6-faTwZ5ief886GXr8EaPi7G7vR9KHR60eSzf2X4yRs7SWkwpR-IC6cN8opuCgg1nMVWHOTtcDOK2QesMBsTFWcm7VN1oIsivXLpxUHTNJkKtxhENR0hP_ITGxPWI3SbsCC0-abDTWSVg2xeIUzWvH_TIfhA97f-YnYWV_SH_pGOAv6/s320/IMG-9286.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">I had made the mistake of bringing my point and shoot camera to this trek. It wasn't recommended but I carried it nevertheless only to move it around from one campsite to the next. Getting ready to wrap our things up at Litham, one of the fellow trekkers Samkit, spotted a <i>Citrin Wagtail</i>, sitting on a rock by a stream. Realizing this might be one of few moments where I could put my camera to some use, I tiptoed to my tent and managed to take a picture.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRf9lL2VQkp0vCKlbWbhfW4OcuoUOgiMLlDgfkmSVRRGN7y7aCwhquZGzsGXPXGgeZDUt66uLE_rJo1V_LV-Mc5BHplSl-ywv7lRcPbs9mvar9rI2k8lZ2ZfzrPfSeT3hDE_OUnrhdbUevb4kBmxFE14u2VjAlskZWt4HdqWmjP1VZbcafwXw_WmV/s1920/DSC00690.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRf9lL2VQkp0vCKlbWbhfW4OcuoUOgiMLlDgfkmSVRRGN7y7aCwhquZGzsGXPXGgeZDUt66uLE_rJo1V_LV-Mc5BHplSl-ywv7lRcPbs9mvar9rI2k8lZ2ZfzrPfSeT3hDE_OUnrhdbUevb4kBmxFE14u2VjAlskZWt4HdqWmjP1VZbcafwXw_WmV/s320/DSC00690.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Buoyed and ready to hit the road, we set off. The Dhunda campsite was at 13300 feet, right at the base of the pass we had to summit. Though this was categorized as one of the difficult days of the trek, our exertions to the Chandrnahan lakes had done the trick. The team moved with a brisk pace, the tree lines completely finished by now. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOCB3qj7dXv9wkynqc-yQGN8Utt0iBJ5SO9L1YZoAl3cu3t8vGKkiOsBDN1xqoFmV6Ju6pmyLQWDCVVOy3iPyRAWLv3bnYgIbjUXJCI8ITExKkff28tyJNgD4qJirRJdaZ_fCT3sGrWtmkh9RbpVZqR-RqFGrm_d_RCrBwYXA09brS6vN3Q7IkfEe/s4032/IMG-9321.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOCB3qj7dXv9wkynqc-yQGN8Utt0iBJ5SO9L1YZoAl3cu3t8vGKkiOsBDN1xqoFmV6Ju6pmyLQWDCVVOy3iPyRAWLv3bnYgIbjUXJCI8ITExKkff28tyJNgD4qJirRJdaZ_fCT3sGrWtmkh9RbpVZqR-RqFGrm_d_RCrBwYXA09brS6vN3Q7IkfEe/s320/IMG-9321.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We soon approached a river crossing. The team by this point had become an automated unit. We no longer needed to ask for help, everyone was looking out for each other, not because they had too, but because we no longer looked at this trek as an individual event, it was clear as day that we wanted to get this done as a team and everything else simply followed.</span></div><div><p></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvF2pXSXNm33pZvtbYiyzrlPs78CDjcVCjFeDkcHwWGK94GIUnc6yD-kJMlZdfp3ZXp93T5EpbMO7gbisDmEhWDqQrcdxFlOVcbcOag4-xVy7ImJ1ZTiBp5J8QJ8zRpncZDd97bo3Dwh4x2r9YNhurr7pIazhq6mMS0qkHUIh1-hdE1Ib2iXaOMDrX/s3280/IMG-20220608-090510.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3280" data-original-width="2464" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvF2pXSXNm33pZvtbYiyzrlPs78CDjcVCjFeDkcHwWGK94GIUnc6yD-kJMlZdfp3ZXp93T5EpbMO7gbisDmEhWDqQrcdxFlOVcbcOag4-xVy7ImJ1ZTiBp5J8QJ8zRpncZDd97bo3Dwh4x2r9YNhurr7pIazhq6mMS0qkHUIh1-hdE1Ib2iXaOMDrX/s320/IMG-20220608-090510.JPEG" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Navigating through an ice bridge and a rockfall zone, we reached Dhunda campsite at 13365 feet earlier than anyone expected we would. With the pass visible and right in front of us, there was a skip in our step. We had acclimatized well and sunglasses on by this point, everyone soaked in the picture postcard surroundings. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg54ArEXMLQL1lDzA7XjbB4fvnGhekQOVbgt2GD-DQ5WST-B1oTngJBc0sdPttTFwp_6CwBxcsNJTtJKR3IYLcbcPJuA00SzZrjqLEACDpqJY-z4pqbpMRGDAkPPaiN6b_fty6ByAi6ovcpuDhGTeMiB14Lssv4_UE2OdYUmi5jqOnHJ6VyfkEu8P-6/s4032/IMG-9339.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg54ArEXMLQL1lDzA7XjbB4fvnGhekQOVbgt2GD-DQ5WST-B1oTngJBc0sdPttTFwp_6CwBxcsNJTtJKR3IYLcbcPJuA00SzZrjqLEACDpqJY-z4pqbpMRGDAkPPaiN6b_fty6ByAi6ovcpuDhGTeMiB14Lssv4_UE2OdYUmi5jqOnHJ6VyfkEu8P-6/s320/IMG-9339.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I rested a bit after lunch while most of the team carried on with the mood, engrossing themselves in a game of '<i>Mafia</i>' in the dinner tent. Evening arrived quickly, and it was time for Summit briefing. The climb to the summit was a trek till 15000 feet to reach the pass followed by rappelling down a 150 meter ice wall from where we start the long descent till 11000 feet to the Munirang Campsite. </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">Summit briefing begged the question - " Why is summit important ? " - sharing our deepest emotions and targets, everyone took their turn explaining what it would mean to them if we were to summit successfully. If anything, it brought the group closer. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This was quickly followed by a brief introduction with our technical team who would be the ones managing the rappelling down the snow-wall next day. These were larger than life individuals who exuded confidence as they explained the harness and safety procedures to us. Safe to say we were excited rather than apprehensive at the end of the brief. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><span style="font-size: x-small;">Summit Day</span></u></b></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />Summit day was on paper the most difficult day of the trek. It included a 3 hour ascent starting at early hours of the morning and a 9 hour descent, making it the longest day of the trek. Without favorable conditions, the trek could take as long as 18 hours. It was as much a mental test as a physical one as our minds would have to switch from the exasperation of the summit push, to the euphoria of summit, to the excitement of rappelling and sliding down the snow and followed by the marathon descent past some tricky boulder sections. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We got a wake up call at 3 AM, "Chaliye Team!" reverberating all around. Still half full from dinner, we could not afford to skip breakfast, even at this hour, as a long day lied ahead of us. The next hour was a rush to the bio toilets and kitchen tents and getting summit ready. There would be no gradual ascent as we were climbing 1700 feet in less than 2 kms. Geared up and morning rituals done, we set out. It was still darkish as we made our way up. Fifty shades of blue all around. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6HoRIe0OzKEm-Iv4OAKgLYR-w4z7fJ841xBCXcTTXLvWxCpOY-i76ZK6_Y65XUMwyJR_kcCQAesAdl8lARAi6KIqF0j02-Ra4v57oB2VycivmjBfsu_a_2dWNhpe0eu8Irgau8QoRpMB27ySyduSr0sqG1hihwJ2H8tJfLC8ofXZSzj6rSjl-44E/s4000/IMG-20220609-065130.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6HoRIe0OzKEm-Iv4OAKgLYR-w4z7fJ841xBCXcTTXLvWxCpOY-i76ZK6_Y65XUMwyJR_kcCQAesAdl8lARAi6KIqF0j02-Ra4v57oB2VycivmjBfsu_a_2dWNhpe0eu8Irgau8QoRpMB27ySyduSr0sqG1hihwJ2H8tJfLC8ofXZSzj6rSjl-44E/s320/IMG-20220609-065130.JPEG" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We couldn't afford to rest too long to prevent cooldown, so we soldiered on, looking after each other. Within a couple of hours, we took a moment to look back, our Dhunda campsite now remotely visible far below as the sun shone brightly above us. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlW3edohSXfzg9vqTkaKm_ILULbcSWbtGYgz8noXUx0jPTTy7Pw1896EulwBV-PJHQUyyqRTvkHcoMXwgmOLB4PYzoXgeUMV2I56fU5m6d-AbUV-kgWG9xwiL8t2CBz6R9GtDA_4bdweS1KYGHv8K07bzcvNeCJfyEs28txuTrDqgka8FOyfu2nemW/s4000/IMG20220609065030.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlW3edohSXfzg9vqTkaKm_ILULbcSWbtGYgz8noXUx0jPTTy7Pw1896EulwBV-PJHQUyyqRTvkHcoMXwgmOLB4PYzoXgeUMV2I56fU5m6d-AbUV-kgWG9xwiL8t2CBz6R9GtDA_4bdweS1KYGHv8K07bzcvNeCJfyEs28txuTrDqgka8FOyfu2nemW/s320/IMG20220609065030.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">Adrenalin pushing us on and around 2.7 hours since we started from campsite, we reached our promised land !! Hugs followed as we stood atop the summit, formerly known as The Barua Pass. Our mind a pure cocktail of emotions, some of us took in the 360 degree view, some posed for photographs, some chose a moment of solitude, some chose to call home ( this was the only place in the whole trek where mobile network was available ). </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">It was a personal moment of accomplishment for Rwiti and myself. Our preparations and moments of self doubt and inner demons were exorcised as we stood at the summit taking it all in !!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXy-xsGwkwPjMC_Z256AbevE6CfIf_z5ZvFSAf2i_CvyoTvQA_pooRQAW0PIh2GNFX0F-RQ0M13Y-80xYosLr8BERAEP61lEH69k6hz-puS6Iu22VOwKaJrZg7MWXsEwl0IL8wTVQc4my5MqW0LteuUU1FGaSQ4xkUn6tAPNSHehAKgzqSWbD4cwGX/s4096/IMG20220609073638.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXy-xsGwkwPjMC_Z256AbevE6CfIf_z5ZvFSAf2i_CvyoTvQA_pooRQAW0PIh2GNFX0F-RQ0M13Y-80xYosLr8BERAEP61lEH69k6hz-puS6Iu22VOwKaJrZg7MWXsEwl0IL8wTVQc4my5MqW0LteuUU1FGaSQ4xkUn6tAPNSHehAKgzqSWbD4cwGX/s320/IMG20220609073638.JPEG" width="240" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;">As we prepared to rapel down, we had to take the mandatory group picture ! </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0-uH3rIG1HoHhBf1xWcTFEI-gGM0_-B-XeKtRzeqy49DZ2UiNmMUDseLcI0CgoWVOPdak2zK5YG3D8aGnIuLRcngKw16wJ1Hqgo9-rzVyidgbjF-bDvJVWGHFE2iIBem7v1nT3DR3Fsad0fcKOUaUWA_DL3JdQj7k32i6EYkeI_rdHicIsIdpuWd/s4624/IMG20220609075212.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB0-uH3rIG1HoHhBf1xWcTFEI-gGM0_-B-XeKtRzeqy49DZ2UiNmMUDseLcI0CgoWVOPdak2zK5YG3D8aGnIuLRcngKw16wJ1Hqgo9-rzVyidgbjF-bDvJVWGHFE2iIBem7v1nT3DR3Fsad0fcKOUaUWA_DL3JdQj7k32i6EYkeI_rdHicIsIdpuWd/s320/IMG20220609075212.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rappelling down provided moments of laughter, hysterics, fear and joy and so many other emotions. it took the entire team a couple of hours to rapel down and then slide further down through the natural snow slides. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcQaSpNrqgycKV9neHyzwLttPyFrt9ExjY0XSoImvg37IIf1l-RUiAnXpbIn8QfqfJy0ta2ceNKcNDywerLB8yKteuCJ1mF386rS67VJ1Ndv7uHh3xye_dF7R5JUPu9n9UF9OTLN7CeKpQrzhyle94XdrkyAlkZVYxc5G93lcpnsoDrIAIjc2PGBR/s4000/IMG-20220609-074948.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZcQaSpNrqgycKV9neHyzwLttPyFrt9ExjY0XSoImvg37IIf1l-RUiAnXpbIn8QfqfJy0ta2ceNKcNDywerLB8yKteuCJ1mF386rS67VJ1Ndv7uHh3xye_dF7R5JUPu9n9UF9OTLN7CeKpQrzhyle94XdrkyAlkZVYxc5G93lcpnsoDrIAIjc2PGBR/s320/IMG-20220609-074948.JPEG" width="240" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1C11s6l16Elgt5xCXmAYPw1oEFW34dDr972Z7wNwTVKWzhJpspsd6tKVvnxXNwbDRCypJ5mrm6u52_G5A1U3I7mTP0IL5xMjDlVghuZr4Ox8wnxlIZIkklHVRgdqCtYVxZ1FyaMtfHYmtouTr61SJqm--dB2EjLqIL4AURpGk_I8nLK6jB5i2QO_J/s4000/IMG20220609092212.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1C11s6l16Elgt5xCXmAYPw1oEFW34dDr972Z7wNwTVKWzhJpspsd6tKVvnxXNwbDRCypJ5mrm6u52_G5A1U3I7mTP0IL5xMjDlVghuZr4Ox8wnxlIZIkklHVRgdqCtYVxZ1FyaMtfHYmtouTr61SJqm--dB2EjLqIL4AURpGk_I8nLK6jB5i2QO_J/s320/IMG20220609092212.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Our hearts content, we started our descent. As mentioned by one of our fellow trekkers Prayas, " A successful trek is one which is completed ". It was difficult to stay focused but we meandered our way through the boulder patches and down the mountain. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGRbc8Jz8eI2ji4r9NxXUR7Tn1LTIRixrN072Ku1tDrV1L6MYvdzGIcxYyt4v_IRS6FCoSZBMriAQSkeQyKMdE4GxqnUqenN_9OQckZ-I_NgMKGJx1oA3ALHnTqVRs5iV6jmBr68AckJnqrTULWYr3BQhZUDd_qKKc9mR5HV8pSuBGnxFW-kivq18C/s4000/IMG20220609115702.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGRbc8Jz8eI2ji4r9NxXUR7Tn1LTIRixrN072Ku1tDrV1L6MYvdzGIcxYyt4v_IRS6FCoSZBMriAQSkeQyKMdE4GxqnUqenN_9OQckZ-I_NgMKGJx1oA3ALHnTqVRs5iV6jmBr68AckJnqrTULWYr3BQhZUDd_qKKc9mR5HV8pSuBGnxFW-kivq18C/s320/IMG20220609115702.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As the day hit it's stride, we stopped on our way down with a spectacular view ahead of us. Few porters had laid out a portable kitchen of sorts. Unexpected and amazing, we were treated with tea and omelets, simple food but tasting surreal at that moment. It was a moment of reflection for me, remembering the wastefulness in our lifestyles back in our cities, something we try to avoid but probably <i>not hard enough</i>. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30eb-0ePm6FKPTXARKW7a9JCStBKynJIvFSls4ctdpvp3nM5X15mZEkQcdkDMixizQN6kGkmCfpWtV3E0OFNBk-5_NfPHm2zxqyYnTeI-Qu12mLLgGYadWSMQxJioLFFpL2s97I5ZCmIFN8LOwmW38xn-qvw4J-bIBwvfRS7tsQ4Vzois8glG7RDw/s4000/IMG20220609121427.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg30eb-0ePm6FKPTXARKW7a9JCStBKynJIvFSls4ctdpvp3nM5X15mZEkQcdkDMixizQN6kGkmCfpWtV3E0OFNBk-5_NfPHm2zxqyYnTeI-Qu12mLLgGYadWSMQxJioLFFpL2s97I5ZCmIFN8LOwmW38xn-qvw4J-bIBwvfRS7tsQ4Vzois8glG7RDw/s320/IMG20220609121427.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We reached Munirang Campsite @11000 feet at almost 4PM. After having a long cool down, the mood was solemn. There was a sense of accomplishment all around but it was not lost on us that this fantastic journey was about to come to an end. Munirang was a beautiful campsite but such was the beauty of nature that we had lived in over the last few days, I had to remind myself to not take things for granted and soak in every moment of raw, un-meddled nature as we could. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjmIbpLjrVy2Ym6BwDeAxiXkoxKihhVP-NazAu2lBc1ZxSdaFyF7b4J3EH3oWQYOVEeX7CQt4-g_vopS3ghsrdsJ169t9ty7OKMyZJk9ulXDkOawXqVoetVbWndNYi3RqaZ4-rmALE4qqni5Fr8KrrB_BBGaISwHyxeC1AYne85CLKUSsc6B7TA3j4/s4096/IMG20220609150232.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4096" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjmIbpLjrVy2Ym6BwDeAxiXkoxKihhVP-NazAu2lBc1ZxSdaFyF7b4J3EH3oWQYOVEeX7CQt4-g_vopS3ghsrdsJ169t9ty7OKMyZJk9ulXDkOawXqVoetVbWndNYi3RqaZ4-rmALE4qqni5Fr8KrrB_BBGaISwHyxeC1AYne85CLKUSsc6B7TA3j4/s320/IMG20220609150232.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZg_uRv4Py0cy4pL2jWD2N6i2KdCimWRdji3JQ3-wHKk5YGsIDC9zRXEBmzHSmOaOEn6SIG_ayK0VUFdjqT82N04WDwI0EELCkWAUkx_lcMvu8coL1myIYvOdJhTxxSr87ItRe3OXLHeNbqCga6RO1nJ1nZEfYV_Ce2SRE9mygn3EJByd10owqYuDv/s4000/IMG20220610061722.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZg_uRv4Py0cy4pL2jWD2N6i2KdCimWRdji3JQ3-wHKk5YGsIDC9zRXEBmzHSmOaOEn6SIG_ayK0VUFdjqT82N04WDwI0EELCkWAUkx_lcMvu8coL1myIYvOdJhTxxSr87ItRe3OXLHeNbqCga6RO1nJ1nZEfYV_Ce2SRE9mygn3EJByd10owqYuDv/s320/IMG20220610061722.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">We were on the second last day of our trek and it was time to unravel and unwind. We gathered in our tents for the trek debriefing and it was our turn to share the learnings that we would take from this trek back to our cities. People shared their journeys, hurdles , mishaps in life and we are all extremely thankful to a higher power for bringing together this great team and the truly amazing India Hikes staff at every level for making this trek a success. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><span style="font-size: x-small;">Munirang to Barua</span></u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">With our mind partly switching back to lives back in cities and the other on what we would be leaving behind, we began one final assault on our knees. We were trekking down to 6000 feet to the Barua Village from where we were supposed to get back to Shimla. We did a silent trek through a beautiful forest section. Chirping of the birds, glimpses of meadows through the trees with blue skies overhead, it was as if nature was showing off and simply mocking us for leaving. One of the reasons I chose to do Buran Ghati was because of a quote which Arjun Majumdar , the founder of IH said - " There is not a single moment on this trek when you can take your eyes off. " It was at this moment I realized how correct he was.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGwvgH0gORCAZKQQVJFqBN71_HoVtrCpRX4vSIUWp2m_7aIZ_8pdfE1awkN9Y6EwsGyAb_b2q6JmnhsITuAt677eCjF58Z33uyF7gJT6KCnjGiGjdZKNB1Z0pCt-lAscyiN5U-YBxvyi4ppevcVFYD90q1avQfPkZQNQjTXo9Ou5FzwcGLgIVZdJ2/s4096/IMG20220610094524.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAGwvgH0gORCAZKQQVJFqBN71_HoVtrCpRX4vSIUWp2m_7aIZ_8pdfE1awkN9Y6EwsGyAb_b2q6JmnhsITuAt677eCjF58Z33uyF7gJT6KCnjGiGjdZKNB1Z0pCt-lAscyiN5U-YBxvyi4ppevcVFYD90q1avQfPkZQNQjTXo9Ou5FzwcGLgIVZdJ2/w308-h320/IMG20220610094524.JPEG" width="308" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vl0COMGicsIwbkrTk_A8qoXcbh9gnXVTUWA71_HshzmME1STN1Q_N_xgw1trxUqmYimUhBWJ4DTFnVn2y82DbsXA0tEmEeojOwRptUJYFdvCkfoZATdbgsfgIbwSIR8gmU2T9m1PUMe7WL8peI88oqhY7p6LjwhlJPVStEpQbXBom2sGXIH4v20m/s4000/IMG20220610093236.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vl0COMGicsIwbkrTk_A8qoXcbh9gnXVTUWA71_HshzmME1STN1Q_N_xgw1trxUqmYimUhBWJ4DTFnVn2y82DbsXA0tEmEeojOwRptUJYFdvCkfoZATdbgsfgIbwSIR8gmU2T9m1PUMe7WL8peI88oqhY7p6LjwhlJPVStEpQbXBom2sGXIH4v20m/s320/IMG20220610093236.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As we approached midway, we stopped for Lassi at one of the prettiest mountain cottages. 'Chacha' was simply letting us have the Lassi fresh from his farm, because he just had it, it was not something he ever intended to sell. Again, a far cry from what we are used to. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBeT3Qb4srLaHcdRdXISFnkBheZAU1zMBaFQMvYHkNksFGLCcAT0MpvLhOaR7-yU5xNhGN9i-4MU5VKH39zJsPumQl68b-sRm0sjtkE8v3GYue2FoiD825AUIDd9KrGqJNVkAoJRBonGwaniKscbdNO_uU3JkRr0uu0g-I-FTEPNFdrHBqLRb4JuV/s4000/IMG20220610101307.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBeT3Qb4srLaHcdRdXISFnkBheZAU1zMBaFQMvYHkNksFGLCcAT0MpvLhOaR7-yU5xNhGN9i-4MU5VKH39zJsPumQl68b-sRm0sjtkE8v3GYue2FoiD825AUIDd9KrGqJNVkAoJRBonGwaniKscbdNO_uU3JkRr0uu0g-I-FTEPNFdrHBqLRb4JuV/s320/IMG20220610101307.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As we entered our final stretch into Barua, we came across several apple orchards, something a lot of people depend on for their livelihood. Barua itself was extremely pretty, with small alleyways and homes nestled on mountain slopes. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzv_fqPlgt54q6Gx__YW1loBnrc8POQitchu4-PMzSGRyscBIsxdmCTZ1dSJz4HGXmig5FShaShT-thxf-B3iDYwLA9wf1m0oJg1Z7QOY_ce-AVPviaFFqRPQv_DRSlho00l-nnYisFRe_T_cqM1Ge9N973soga2oZzMW1PsE8PLc0U5wQf8HWL4m7/s4000/IMG20220610111915.JPEG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzv_fqPlgt54q6Gx__YW1loBnrc8POQitchu4-PMzSGRyscBIsxdmCTZ1dSJz4HGXmig5FShaShT-thxf-B3iDYwLA9wf1m0oJg1Z7QOY_ce-AVPviaFFqRPQv_DRSlho00l-nnYisFRe_T_cqM1Ge9N973soga2oZzMW1PsE8PLc0U5wQf8HWL4m7/s320/IMG20220610111915.JPEG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Slowly and surely we were back in the mould as we saw more people, more garbage, more noise, basically an excess of everything, as we concluded our trek and headed back to Shimla. We stopped for lunch on the way, at a hotel, beside river Sutlej. As we pulled away to our lives and bade goodbye the universal feeling was that of gratitude :</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>To Nishant</i>, for making this more than a trek, educating us and teaching us virtues all along - that would make us responsible trekkers and individuals. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKASYA1ZfIfi5Eq4g6wvIl2b-9Sq5ou4v0THhoTxS1Og0f794xsYCZZz0STpiPQ6DpKWGz1t6-mm9SU2-Ye1kn0pIdXdJDCLWKDy0C6UXiyanGQ-lICIoARqLVTzNQ2TNcf6Au8SCEojk9zeVPN8e2FMlIadbd0V53r2AXgUYOv6ql9cQW-xLTeO3/s4032/IMG-9230.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKASYA1ZfIfi5Eq4g6wvIl2b-9Sq5ou4v0THhoTxS1Og0f794xsYCZZz0STpiPQ6DpKWGz1t6-mm9SU2-Ye1kn0pIdXdJDCLWKDy0C6UXiyanGQ-lICIoARqLVTzNQ2TNcf6Au8SCEojk9zeVPN8e2FMlIadbd0V53r2AXgUYOv6ql9cQW-xLTeO3/s320/IMG-9230.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>To Thakur Ji and Hansraj Ji</i> - For being selfless and pillars of our trek. The people who made the whole journey possible. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeHgTtzKs9eUPuPR421bxudxoJ1KAJwPsLbOM5L-coBgmtsd2MIbSz3CtkqvU__NJ2VKMEF_V3piQw3YTKyj-9W1n2QvKD2s9z_i5QjRxVjSh5CqJMLI37NaAegxE9xwf9agpVRRR1kCkSILn5IDOx4i78XUHQ7U14scdtxJBeBi159RQSEk1x3oM/s3088/IMG-9195.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2316" data-original-width="3088" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeHgTtzKs9eUPuPR421bxudxoJ1KAJwPsLbOM5L-coBgmtsd2MIbSz3CtkqvU__NJ2VKMEF_V3piQw3YTKyj-9W1n2QvKD2s9z_i5QjRxVjSh5CqJMLI37NaAegxE9xwf9agpVRRR1kCkSILn5IDOx4i78XUHQ7U14scdtxJBeBi159RQSEk1x3oM/s320/IMG-9195.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>To IH Staff - </i>To entire IH Staff working behind the scenes, thank you!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Last but never the least, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>To the amazing team - Sudheer, Charu, Pratham, Anil, Johan, Praneeta, Aboli, Krivi, Yuvraj, Divyansh, Prayas, Avi, Pushkar, Sharaang, Arushi, Ayush, Samkit </i> - All of you are rockstars !!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHFfkTPCyk3XkUKczduNhkr6J29jqaLPHDgc85S_efud6q0nfCsTc50sLY3BYVd9KODUQJtEHpCiuMmFqYYoAvtSAMCluWvS11bLHBFZNxfpt02_7O-0RtXA7G7h3qm_RXkNqO1VcfAZCGIXO-enMjes_rFDr_MB4P7XMZrTl9Nm8p8XhIdSD2gVuz/s1040/a8b23532-77d0-42dd-b724-b71bd81d0117.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="780" data-original-width="1040" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHFfkTPCyk3XkUKczduNhkr6J29jqaLPHDgc85S_efud6q0nfCsTc50sLY3BYVd9KODUQJtEHpCiuMmFqYYoAvtSAMCluWvS11bLHBFZNxfpt02_7O-0RtXA7G7h3qm_RXkNqO1VcfAZCGIXO-enMjes_rFDr_MB4P7XMZrTl9Nm8p8XhIdSD2gVuz/s320/a8b23532-77d0-42dd-b724-b71bd81d0117.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">You can find all details of the trek in below India Hikes Link - </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://indiahikes.com/buran-ghati">https://indiahikes.com/buran-ghati</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-19849100132716807062019-12-26T04:13:00.002+05:302019-12-26T04:13:51.400+05:30Connecting the Dots <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>4 Years. </i>This isn't the first time I thought of blogging all this while. It's an impossible task to catch on with the incredible things that have happened! Like I said before, I don't blog when I am happy. This would be short.<br />
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I started my new job a week ago, which meant I had a relatively easy last couple of months. This gave me some time to take stock of everything around me. The last three books I read were about the evolution of football tactics, early life of a former president of the United States, about climate change and the impeding apocalypse which the world conveniently chooses to ignore. This along with some newly gained armchair interest on economics and the current political situation of the country has disoriented my mind to a point where I simply cannot ignore it anymore. Well, this blog doesn't absolve me of ignorance but hell yeah I can vent here.<br />
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Does this world in general accept and value independent opinion without labeling or polarizing me on the basis of my sex, religion, origin, political allegiance, race ? I can go on. Globalization, Artificial Intelligence, Automation enhance the market but what about the communities who get left behind? Does one size fit all policies actually work for such communities? We have set up huge trade markets to boost global economy and in less than 50 years, countries are starting to pull the plugs using a hollow 'Country first' narrative with no regard for the people involved? Globalization is irreversible. <i>1000 people</i> move to Bangalore everyday and construction bans are being contemplated. Nothing makes sense anymore. And then there is Manchester United. Well, all this considering some superhuman intervention prevents us from famine, floods and an eventual apocalypse in the next couple of hundred years. Sample all this with the micro problems my parents seem to have and a whole new dimension opens up.<br />
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Of course these are points which has all been said before. There is no originality in my thought or bravery and conviction in my soul to take these issues head on. I do hope someday though, that I <i>connect the dots</i>. </div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-85975667699913347392015-07-20T05:06:00.000+05:302015-07-20T13:36:48.313+05:30Why Do I Run?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><i>“Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up, it knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve. It doesn't matter whether you're the lion or a gazelle-when the sun comes up, you'd better be running.” </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #181818;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background: white; color: #181818;">Now that I have been running
for exactly a year, I think it's a good time to try justify a few questions
which has always clouded my mind. - Why do I run? Why do I have to put myself
through a 3-4 hour long suffering? What do I get out of it? </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="background: white; color: #181818;"><span style="font-size: small;">I don't have direct answers to
any of these questions. Truth is a I enjoy having pizzas and beer with friends
much more than I enjoy running. I always loved sports growing up but hated
running. Running without a purpose disgusted me, and it was just something that
had to be got over with everyday, so that I could start playing as soon as
possible. Nevertheless, having run 1523 Kilometers for the past year, I think I
have had plenty of time to ponder over these questions. </span></span></span><br /></span><br /></span><span style="color: #181818;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">
</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #181818;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><em>Why do I run?</em></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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We as human beings always look for ways to validate ourselves in this world. Even if my life is going absolutely nowhere, after a three hour run, I tell myself, <i>I am in control of this, so maybe I can control other things in life too</i>. Believe it or not, we are all control freaks, to varying degrees. Does that help in life? Mostly no, you can only control so much in life. But for those fifteen minutes when your are warming down, dripping with sweat,you feel you have it in you to make it through. A decent food habit and fitness are bonus cards which come with it. It's a fair trade off.<br />
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What when we figure things out in life? I don't think people ever reach a stage where they figure things out totally, unless of course you are a Gautam Buddha. It's a fact of life you have to become friends with. Running gives me strength. Not strength to my calves or quadriceps, but to my soul.<br />
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<i>Why the suffering?</i><br />
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We get our answers through suffering. I don't introspect when I am happy. The last five miles in a three hour long run, when your lungs scream for air, joints are creaky, that is when you start getting different perspectives. At that point, you can almost think of anything else than the voice inside you that urges you to quit. Sometimes, we don't want to accept truths in life and we look for all biased reasons to prove ourselves correct. Suffering cuts straight through that.<br />
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<i>What do I get out of it?</i><br />
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Nothing. And that is the whole point. Life is not profit and loss statement. You have to do something which gives you nothing in return. No long distance runner runs to stay fit. You could do much less and live out your life healthily. You put on your running shoes, watch the overcast sky, impeding rain, and you know its going to be a thankless suffering for the next two hours. Without caring about anything, you set off. There is strange sense of freedom in that.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><i>“There's something so universal about that sensation, the way running unites our two most primal impulses: fear and pleasure. We run when we're scared, we run when we're ecstatic, we run away from our problems and run around for a good time.” </i></span></div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-51945589386344059002015-01-28T22:57:00.000+05:302015-01-29T14:50:11.058+05:30Sound of Mountains<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1cD9GdbuVuacZD65WAoed2P-8cK8Hq1Bwyk69Q5u9hyX5WwAb8QkfekSkyZS7popYBP9YXDqkmREmul6SYHFW_mZueVM1kZfRegIuuA7hRjVvNz7Fhbud7fp3N026DtH2GUmHOes65xc/s1600/IMG_20150125_114816188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1cD9GdbuVuacZD65WAoed2P-8cK8Hq1Bwyk69Q5u9hyX5WwAb8QkfekSkyZS7popYBP9YXDqkmREmul6SYHFW_mZueVM1kZfRegIuuA7hRjVvNz7Fhbud7fp3N026DtH2GUmHOes65xc/s1600/IMG_20150125_114816188.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>"I am going to write about this."</i>, I told myself countless times.Staring at the outer Himalayan Range while moving along on another snow clad peak on a surreal day with brilliant blue sky, I was simply mesmerized. Mostly moments pass us by,but there are some,where you stop thinking about any particular thing and reach an absolute void.All of a sudden you get the perspectives,you realize your purpose,you are thankful for the love you get and so on.Then the moment disappears and you're right back into the rat race that life is. Standing atop the peak,looking at an incredible view, it seemed the fleeting moment would go on forever.It was partly funny too. On most other days of the year I would be staring at a wallpaper imagining myself in places, only for someone to break my reverie. <b style="font-style: italic;">The world is not a wish granting factory. </b>Well, not always. </div>
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It was sub zero temperatures outside. We were tired bodies sitting on planks in a small abandoned hut some on top of a peak discussing life mostly while gulping down Old Monk. Most of them were strangers to me until earlier that morning,yet here we were discussing our lives, weaknesses, fears. We discussed about how mountains teach you humility.The vastness captures you. In the end love is all that there is, love for your family, for yourself, for nature, for everything. Everyone discussed about things or people they cared about.We came outside, and it seemed I could almost touch the stars. My mouth fell open. It was the purest moment in my mind where I simply could not have anything but positive thoughts. Almost everything seemed fair. I realized how lucky I have been to have the people I have had. Family, my closest friends. It wasn't a full moon but I looked around and I imagined myself standing in a mountain of silver, or was I? "<i>I am going to write about this"</i> , I thought to myself.</div>
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<i>Aritra Majumder </i>and <i>Shisagnee Banerjee</i>, thank you for being such a constant rock in my life. I have never done this much, but in those moments where the only thing interrupting my thoughts was the sound of mountains,I made up my mind to let you two know how thankful I am to have you in my life. One requires constancy in life, and I would not be the person I am without family and you people behind me. Thank you for everything.I hope I don't fail you, ever. </div>
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I have never had the opportunity to travel much. Yet the graph has seen a somewhat rise in the past couple of years.I have read travelling gives you perspective.Indeed it does.This blog serves as the pensive of my own thoughts.I can only hope I turn out to be a better person than yesterday. </div>
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<i><b>This is not a travel blog, yet, for information's sake we had gone for a snow trek at Parashar Lake. It is on top of a peak some 50 kms from Mandi from where the famous Dhauladhar Outer Himalayan Range starts. </b></i></div>
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sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-31727480690191762942014-10-16T01:47:00.001+05:302014-10-16T01:47:44.795+05:30An Antique mind<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've been meaning to write for quite time now. Months, actually. Yet I haven't been able to bring myself up to the task. So much so, it topped my list of action items for consecutive weeks, until i saw the funnier side of it .I have been busy, not that much though.<br />
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I am not the sort of person who misses people everyday or hangs on to things for too long.I seem to have a world class formula for these sort of things. Some days, though the formula doesn't work.Those days, it's like cold turkey. It rips you apart,rends you heart.bares your mind to your feelings of fear, passion and of course no denying, love itself.But then the formula itself is too strong, there is no getting out of it. Even on one of these days, it controls you, like an invisible force. What do I make of these days?<br />
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There are so many things I want to write about, things which I care about, socially, personally, in some ways, professionally too. There are changes about these things,which,of course I am incapable of bringing about.The helplessness kills you.Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I had a smaller head.<br />
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I have read books,watched,heard true stories.My heroes have inspired me to carry on with my life.I am guessing their biggest quality has been to hang in there. Stick to your shit, work on your principles, make a difference and hang in there.It does more than you think.Then maybe you got a fable, which can be told in the end. <i>In an antique land.</i><br />
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In the meantime, scribbling about it, just feeds your ego, makes no fucking difference. And that's why I loathe to write.<br />
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sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-58805654911555734542014-05-09T00:45:00.000+05:302014-05-09T00:45:55.086+05:30Somethings gotta give<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was reading the interview of this top, top tennis player few days back. I don't remember the exact quotes but it was something like,<i> " What drives you, year after year, season after season, when you know you have nothing else left to prove? "</i><br />
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<i>"Nothing, just that I enjoy doing what I do. One morning i might wake up, thinking this isn't exactly what i am enjoying right now. A few of such mornings and you know that sooner or later something's gotta give. And yes, you always have something to prove, if not anybody, then yourself."</i><br />
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The only constant thing in my little life has been the fact that I love to play. I am not even half decent, yet everyday in my life till now, I would go out to the field or a court with an aim, to prove myself to myself. There would be bad , bad days, but even then the sense of fulfillment would consume me. I'd wake up looking forward to something every time. <br />
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You don't have to be a champion to be passionate. Yes I'm talking about Jay Barauchel in Million Dollar Baby. What matters is if you're true to yourself and if it matters to you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObDv9bJdCHjDN2WADDpNN4yKaJTr8FGubCgDLhyphenhyphenjzaVO-wPzPZ8c6T9ehTK7Udwg9JwYh1j6TbEqF2gqF37MRAlei2QEDeGT5De0573OVtEADYV-Uj7YuG0_39QSREFI0Uw4iAVlu0Hk/s1600/004MDB_Jay_Baruchel_005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObDv9bJdCHjDN2WADDpNN4yKaJTr8FGubCgDLhyphenhyphenjzaVO-wPzPZ8c6T9ehTK7Udwg9JwYh1j6TbEqF2gqF37MRAlei2QEDeGT5De0573OVtEADYV-Uj7YuG0_39QSREFI0Uw4iAVlu0Hk/s1600/004MDB_Jay_Baruchel_005.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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I have been very very fortunate to have had so many different kinds of people around me who have shared my passion. I never gave much thought to it before, but every one of them have helped me grow as a person. So I guess they deserve a big Thank You.<br />
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It's been more than eight months now, for so many reasons, this portion of my life has been almost taken away. There's waking up with nothing to prove, nothing to look forward to for which you cannot wait.<br />
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<i>Something's gotta give </i> </div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-79981424799559729102014-02-16T16:32:00.000+05:302014-02-19T00:06:57.559+05:30Moments<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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" Don't take risks when you the last man with the ball !! " - I shouted to Siddharth Bhaiya , also known more as 'Mata' due to his allegiance to Chelsea and mostly his admiration for Juan Mata. Juan might have changed colors but the name remained. The ball was duly passed back to me and I cleared it, following the trajectory of the ball. Ideally, you should be following the ball to where it lands finally. However while it was in mid air something else caught my attention...<br />
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We were in certain village called Golapally, some fifty kilometers away from my residence here in Hyderabad. The Infosys Football team was participating in a tournament as a preparation for ITSAP, which, as I have been told was easily the most prestigious sports event in the corporate calendar. We were playing against Microsoft. The ground was situated right beside the runaway of the Rajiv Gandhi International Airport. It was lush green all around. Seemed to be right off the face of earth.<br />
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.......it was an Emirates Aircraft. I drifted away. An overflow of emotions. Dreams. The sunny mornings at St. Patrick's. People you love. Life ahead. Journey till now. Mistakes made. A different world. Unfulfilled wishes. Dreams again. It was a fleeting moment. It's difficult to articulate all the emotions at one go. Don't get me me wrong. I don't have a thing with the middle east. It could have been almost anything else. Anyway...<br />
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We played extremely well and won comfortably. Turned out to be more of an uncomfortable bike trip with heavy kits and all than anything else. Life is all about moments to be savored. Good or bad. Appropriate or inappropriate. Relevant or irrelevant. The good ones stimulate you so that you end up with more like them. Ideally, The bad ones 'should' too, for their own reasons. Then there are moments, which are just <i>moments</i>. You have a hard time figuring out if it falls under any of the categories. Face covered in soot, ready to collapse as I returned home, I was glad I had another one of those.<br />
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<i>...Oh, we can be heroes just for one day....</i><br />
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sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-89131601790504518602013-11-24T14:03:00.001+05:302013-11-24T14:03:08.336+05:30Yusuf<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The Saturday was turning out to be as predictable as it could have been. Rains lashed the city and the clouds seemed to have taken the sky captive while sending the sun to an unending exile. It is exactly the kind of weather you don't wish for on the day of a table tennis tournament, especially if you are participating in one after ages. Quite normally, I lost after a couple of rounds. Refusing to trust logic, I was being too harsh with myself, grumbling and cussing myself. The usual sequence. Drenched and dripping, I boarded an auto to reach the St. Paul's Stag Table Tennis Academy, where I hoped they would let me practice on weekends. The rain pouring down over the vast stretch of the Hussain Sagar lake made an incredible view. Oblivious about the day till then, I gazed outside thinking about a million things, yet nothing in particular. " </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Ye St. Paul's school kahan hain bhaiya? "</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">, the bearded old auto driver asked me. My reverie was broken. I had agreed to pay him a hundred and fifty bucks, and he did even know where the damned place was. Sighing heavily and wondering just how bad the rest of the day could have been, I informed him I wasn't a local and and that it was his duty to take me to my destination. </span><br />
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The place was not hard to find. It was located in a well known area in Himayatnagar. As I paid him the fare, </div>
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I suddenly realized my cell phone was missing. Fumbling with my belongings, for some reason, I grew hysterical. Always a schemer and trying keep things within my control is a side of me I have found out over the years. Probably I was just not to ready to let things spiral so much out of control on a single day. Seeing me in such a mess, <i>Yusuf</i> ( the name of the auto driver as I later found out ) tried calming me down. <i>"Pareshan mat hona bhaiya...."</i>Now when I think about it, I think he said it a million times. I asked him politely, summoning all my patience, if I could just sit in his vehicle for a while and search for my phone. He told me to take all the time I needed. Needless to mention, I found my cellphone at the bottom most pit of my kit bag. Relief swept over me. I sat down breathing heavily. I took out a packet of biscuits from my bag and asked<i> Yusuf</i>, if he wanted to had some. He was all for it, and we were sitting inside his vehicle chatting for almost twenty minutes while rain poured outside. He asked me about what I did, then he went on to talk about his time in Saudi Arabia, where he spent a few years when he was young. He told me how he was almost drowning once, and there was not a chance in the world that he would live again, except that Allah saved him. That nothing was truly our own, so naturally worrying is pointless. He duly passed on his experiences about life. And at the end of every sentence of his, he would say,<i>" Jo bhi ho jaye, pareshan mat hona bhaiya.."</i>. </div>
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The rain subsided after a while and I had to leave. I bid him goodbye and asked him if he had a phone number. He did not. This guy's old school, of course. And off he went. After that I did what I did and during the hour long bus ride back home, I wondered how simple life would be if I could just follow his mantra. My grandma always says, you can find God wherever you want to find God. I think I am slowly beginning to understand what she means. </div>
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sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-90043281408533083312013-05-25T16:34:00.000+05:302013-05-25T16:34:39.367+05:30Version 2.0<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>So, I was at St.Xavier's,Kolkata and I was giving this speech on poverty. It was an impeccable speech and I was acknowledged with a rapturous applause once I was done. As I was coming down,a thin man dressed in an over sized coat and a briefcase walked towards me. I excused myself from others and walked to him, excited and upbeat. " Sajal !! Good Speech, but have you ever watched a poor man for more than fifteen minutes? " Now, I must mention I belonged to a pretty well to do family so I never really had to struggle too much in life for anything. I replied,slightly confused, " No Sir!" He went on, " Have you ever eaten with a poor man?" .." Not really, Sir". " Okay, Sajal tell me, have you ever slept with a poor man?? " Now, beginning to feel a little humiliated I said, " No Sir, I've not." He replied with a few words which would stay with me forever, " <b>Then you know nothing about poverty.Get that thing straight.</b>"</i><br />
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<i>I felt as if I was slapped. For a couple of months I left home taking nothing with me, and lived on the streets.I ate and slept with the less privileged.At the end of it, I was a much richer person. You know who that great person was in that over sized coat? It was <b>Amartya Sen.</b></i><br />
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These were the words of a certain Sajal Sir, who was among our faculty members for my weekend management entrance coaching classes. I was baffled with resemblance this story had with a portion of one of my most favorite novels. Anyhow, It's an unshakable truth. The world would be a much saner place if people were less judgmental about things they haven't done or experienced. Now, that I would be starting version 2.0 ( hopefully new an improved ) of my life finally, as inconsequential as it is, I would try being as neutral and open as I can. As this would be my last post for quite some time I would just sign off sharing a few lines with my non existent readers from one of my favorite novels.<br />
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<i>Afraid to look too long into his wife's beautiful eyes, I turned back to Fazil and asked him whether he knew now what he might want to say to my readers if I ever was to write a book set in Kars.</i><br />
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<i>" Nothing. " His voice was determined. When he saw my face fall, he relented." I did think of something, but if you don't like it....." he said. " If you write a book set in Kars and put me in it, I'd like to tell your readers not to believe anything you say about me,anything you say about any of us.No one could understand us from so far away."</i><br />
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<i>" But no one believes everything they read in a novel",I said.</i><br />
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<i>"Oh, yes, they do believe it," he cried. " If only to see themselves as wise and superior and humanistic,they need to think of us as sweet and funny,and convince themselves that they sympathize with the way we are and even love us. But if you would put in what I have just said, at least your readers will keep a little room for doubt in their minds." </i></div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-51452378606853752392013-05-07T23:14:00.000+05:302013-05-07T23:22:21.694+05:30Sir Alex Ferguson - More than a Manager.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>" The most important thing about management is you've got to be able to make decisions that aren't popular, but you know they're right and I think I've done that." -- Sir Alex Ferguson.</i><br />
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I left all the common Football groups on Facebook about a year back for the sole reason it was making me a much more depressed and irritated individual than I actually was.As I glanced at the ticker at one opportune moment today however, I saw some person commenting about Sir Alex Ferguson in one of those groups. It's hard to ignore such things so early in the morning when you don't really understand half the things that go on around you.So I wen't to the actual topic and fucked my mood up for the entire day.<br />
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Anyhow, The topic was if " <i>Sir Alex was the worst loser ever and he would always find excuses when the team lost.</i>" in the most disrespectful manner. People as usual were making out like Horny rabbits on this one. Here's the thing, I agree. And more so, I add that sometimes while doing so he actually disrespects the opponents while not giving them their due credit. Even the staunchest United fans would agree to this if they think like a neutral .But before anything lets talk a bit about the English press. I grew up reading Henry Winter's columns on the Telegraph. Here's a few examples apart from the world of Football :<br />
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1. <b>Lewis Hamilton. </b>Probably the most overrated Formula One driver ever.<br />
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2. <b>Tim Henman. </b>Had he not been British he might have actually gone on to win a Wimbledon. The English press gathered every year during June - July for an annual festival called ' Let's try Screw Tim one more time.'<br />
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3. <b>The Ashes, 2005</b>. They glorified the English team so much after getting trounced by Australia every time before that since God knows when, that Andrew Flintoff actually thought he had played enough cricket, Boxing Sounded cool. Yes he was injured and all that, I don't care. And yes, they got raped the next time again. The culprit? I'd probably answer that in the middle of an orgasm.<br />
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4. <b>Andy Murray. </b>First of all, he's Scottish ( David Moyes says Hi ! ). Enough respect for what you've done and will do mate, truly amazing. But Bawling like a baby after losing to the King of Wimbledon? Not cool man, not cool. And it showed on him, the hype.I actually pity the English press. They do the same function to hype that a repeater does in Web Technology.Yes, I've been studying a little too.<br />
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5.<b> The English Football Team.</b> Can we please talk about Football and not WAG's please? Are you people Gay?<br />
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There are many more examples ,but these are the common ones many would relate to.The English press has been the undoing of so many things. And that is exactly where I believe Sir Alex has been a champion. He takes the heat off the players like no manager does. It's a much more difficult task to manage a team in England than people realize.The press can have a crushing effect on the players. SAF has taken the brunt so many times for an insipid United performance. I mean the man is 71 years old, and has been associated with the game for so long, surely he knows which tackle deserves a red card, does not he? People who blame him for that miss the bigger picture. He does it for the lads , the fans. He becomes the villain to shield his players like his family.That is something a non United would never understand. We've had financial constraints, Huge debts, a glaring media ready to pounce on his every mistake, and SAF amid all this has emerged unscathed and ensured the team remains intact.Ten out of ten clubs would have crumbled in such a volatile condition, let alone be competitive. But SAF has ensured we always came back stronger after losing out. It is never all about him, if it were, he would not have lasted for so long. One of his legacies has been that he has kept the club his top priority,always. He has had problems with stars who were huge fan favorites. Had this happened at any other club, the fans would have turned against their manager a long time back. We United fans don't care what people think of him. If he's a Bastard then he's our Bastard and that I believe is the most important thing. It's insane to manage a club for this long and be successful in a place like England where people get paid to drag you down. And people still keep wondering as to why at this age, he staunchly protects his lads. It's just tiring. Harvard has opened a case study about him because he has violated all managerial laws by now.You don't have to love him, but you sure can respect him. And it has become a word so cheaply thrown around these days in the world of football.<br />
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"The memoirs of former manager <b>Frank O'Farrell ( </b>who was in charge of United for a brief period of 18 months ) , <i>All Change at Old Trafford</i>, detail just how badly things went when Sir Matt Busby, supposedly retired." He supposedly said something like this , <i>" A word of advice for the new manager? Well, Sir Alex would ensure he leaves the club in the best possible state for the new manager coming in, unlike the shambolic condition in which Sir Matt handed the club over to me. But I can say one thing,to whoever comes in next, It will not matter who is on the other end of the dug out when the team's winning, but when it starts losing, comparisons with Sir Alex will begin.Be prepared for that</i>.<i>"</i> It's a day we all United fans wish never to see. But time will run it's course and we will patiently wait for the new manager to carry our legacy forward, because that is what we do.</div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-12593734430183992672013-04-30T21:15:00.001+05:302013-04-30T21:58:21.797+05:30City of Joy.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I always wondered, rather foolishly, when I was not so much a kid, as to what took artists so long to finish a piece of art or a writer to finish writing a book.Now, when it takes me so much effort just to type a totally inconsequential piece of shit, as I'm about to do now, you realize why. Anyway, it's just another evening where I have developed a general distaste in doing things which generally keep me busy, so what the hell.<br />
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I've been travelling to the City of Joy on weekends for almost 6 months now. A lot of travelling alone and listening to country music ( Well, I did listen to an occasional Mohit Chauhan too, but country really goes with the mood here...:D ) while on the highway a midst the setting sun where I thought about everything from Romance to Global Warming . Another harrowing trip back home on the Coalfield Express.3 straight hours outside it's toilet.A brilliant and enriching few months of Table Tennis with my coach, and one of my college seniors, for a few months in a club at Howrah.I am not much of the 'Lets hang out' type unless it's really close people,and I have been fortunate enough to have few of them in Kolkata right now.So rare quality time,was spent there too. An almost fatal fall from an Auto while rushing back from practice to the Howrah station for The Last Train Home( the song is on repeat now).Watching Priyanka Chopra from close while she was shooting some <i>oh, what the hell</i> movie.And my CAT classes, where I did make a few friends and went in hungover,more than once.I have had some brilliant teachers, but more on that on my next post.I did go visit a few landmarks on my own but limited cash forced me to curb my roamer instincts.That situation, <i>should</i> relatively improve in the next few months though.<br />
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And there has been so many other diverse incidents as well, most of which I cannot recall.Somehow, people always associate the Bong Nostalgia with Kolkata. I always thought it was a bit unfair and though there are so many things that really are mindless and baffling about the city and it's people, it really is a city with heart.Though,if God ever gave me a choice to choose my birth town for my next 50 lives, I would go on and choose Asansol each time over Kolkata. Asansol has taught me things and has made me more complete as an individual than Kolkata ever could have.I can say that confidently now.On my 51st choice though, I would probably opt for Manchester, England or Anshan City, China.Time flies.I have never really been a big career planner.When I started off on my weekend trips, I thought it would never end.But it has, and as always,I have found out a few more of the infinite dimensions of life.That is how,however,I would like to judge myself.The problem often does not lie in the fact that we don't get what we want.At some level,mostly,we get exactly what we want.That's where we lose the plot. </div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-50907816119389131232013-02-26T22:48:00.001+05:302013-02-26T23:31:12.729+05:30Confession.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My late grandfather was an armchair palmist. When I was a kid, on my mom's persistence he would always take my right hand to try predict my future, and I would sit, dreamy eyed, listening to him, though I thought he was lousy at the whole palmistry thing, big time.I don't remember much, but my mom always decided enough was enough when he started predicting every time without fail that I would have multiple marriages.<br />
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Now when I come to think about it, I realise maybe he wasn't that bad at it as I thought he was.I really do have a thing for women who are taken. Now, that is common all right, But there's a catch somewhere I'm not sure of. That is worrying. But inherently I know there are many, many like me, if they are <i>being honest</i> with themselves!</div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-21049681332094459912013-02-05T15:06:00.000+05:302013-02-11T09:22:03.441+05:30Nick Vujicic<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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" I love life. You know so many people come and say, <i>How come you smile so much</i>? And I'm like, well , it's a long story. " ( grins )<br />
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It has been difficult 8 months. A lot of self introspection, getting back a few good habits after four undergraduate years is what it has all been about. Waiting so long to get started with your professional career is an un-envious situation to be in though. But I'm a lot calmer now.<br />
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I realised how unthankful I've been after watching this clip. Of course it's not the first motivational piece I've come across, but I felt I should post this here just for me to refer back. We are all blessed, there is no such thing as optimism and pessimism in daily life, a friend of mine once said, he was right, it's much more than daily life. We have to lead our life as it comes, get into phases, come out of phases and be thankful and <i>smile</i>. Disappointments , Success mean something, but we're too insignificant in this universe individually to think it's beyond that. It's like <b>Joseph Heller</b> pointed out in his satirical War novel <b>Catch-22</b> about a man's reflection moments before his death -- " <i>In the end it's all about a city and a woman</i>."</div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-13817390932314722262013-01-09T11:09:00.000+05:302013-01-09T11:09:15.044+05:30Slow Death<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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As a kid, I was always fascinated by the mason's work. I grew up in a sub - urban neighbourhood before shifting to our apartment before high school.As a result,I would always have constructions going on all around my place.So, a better part of my childhood was spent playing ' <i>Chor Police</i>' with our toy guns in those ' under construction ' houses.I would often stand and marvel at the Chief mason's or as is referred in Bengali, the <i>Rajmistry's</i> work. The way they took the cement mixture and applied it around bricks, and then used their skill to finish up the curves so immaculately,always fascinated me.I had absolutely no doubt back then, that one day I would grow up to be a <i>Rajmistry</i>.<br />
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Then of course, the stupid thing called growing up happens.As it happened, I went to our apartment's rooftop yesterday to catch some sun. A building is under construction right beside our apartment.I never really paid much attention to it.Few people were working there,finishing up the sunshade of a room on the 3rd floor.I stood and watched for a moment.No, don't '<i>awwww</i>' me.I wasn't gripped by nostalgia.I just wondered how unremarkable their work and life was, to the whole world.I,myself, respect and value everything they do, but sadly, I wan't marvelled.Then, of course, with a shrug,I walked away.<br />
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I immediately recalled the last scene in the movie ' <b>Hurtlocker</b> ', where Jeremy Renner, the war Vet explained to his infant kid.I don't remember the exact words.But the whole gist of it went something like this -- " <i>As a kid, you may love a lot of things, but as you grow up, a lot of those things don't seem so special any more, and when you are of my age, maybe it's just one or two things that's left.</i>" The kid did not understand a word, and how would he,because if he did,a part of him would die.<br />
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sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-34247614700226567982012-10-17T02:10:00.000+05:302013-01-26T17:56:45.292+05:30Miles to go before I sleep.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
One of my Dad's ex-colleagues recently visited our place. He retired from Office work about 5-6 years back. He falls among those category of people, who, you do not have to work too hard to like. About his life, well, he is unfortunate enough not to be blessed with any children. He used to work in a decent position in Dad's office, so, lets just say, he is more than just stable,financially. He loves to travel and using his resources, he has managed to travel to many, many countries spread over all five continents. From the Taj Mahal, to the African Jungles, to the culturally rich Europe, to the Amazon rainforests, he has been everywhere. No kidding.<br />
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If I had to visit any one country in the world, it would be Italy. Apart from the obvious reasons, I have no idea why. Anyway, coming back.With Internet access, all you need to do is type relevant things, and you would be on an almost virtual tour of any place on Earth. Anyway, I always believe, like so many others, that there is no substitute to listening about stories narrated by somebody right in front of you. So, after listening about various incidents and experiences for almost an hour, he said something, which really stayed with me. Here it goes, -- " I've been to so many, so many remote corners of the earth because I love to travel. What travelling a lot does to you is that it kills your pride. We human beings, everyone of us has varying degrees of vanity amongst ourselves. When you travel so much, so many lands, so many people, lifestyles, you actually realise how small and insignificant you are, when compared to the vastness of the planet, not literally. It makes you humble. Humility nowadays is becoming a cult virtue, which it ideally should not be. "<br />
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I've travelled too little due to a lot of valid reasons, but the lines got me thinking. He was right of course. I don't know what life has in store for me, or how things will pan out in the future. I've been sitting on my fat ass for months now, but if I have resources and opportunity as life progresses, I will certainly try and cover as many miles as I can, to vanquish my own pride, and know mother Earth, bit by bit. Willpower would be a non - issue.</div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-3159386834101935992012-10-09T11:02:00.000+05:302012-10-09T11:02:38.697+05:30An embodiment of shamelessness.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Of all the examinations I have appeared in my life, CAT 2012 would be unique. Most of the exams I have appeared in, the primary objective has been to give my best. To score maximum marks so that it somehow augurs well for my career. However CAT 2013, which is six days away would be one of it's kind. My primary objective for this exam would be to avert disaster to prevent a social backlash.( No, I haven't been reading about Jason Bourne recently.I totally mean the meaning it means. ) Now, if I manage that, I will have enough confidence to think about preparing seriously for next year.<br />
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Yes, GATE 2011 and 2012 were quite similar, with a small yet significant difference. I was in college then, so I was too proud to even consider a social backlash, which indirectly did affect my attempts of disaster prevention. I don't deserve anything, you <b>Allmighty</b>. The funny part is, a part of me does not regret it. With time. With time. <i>An embodiment of shamelessness</i>.<br />
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sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-46174221569933182952012-10-06T23:27:00.004+05:302012-10-06T23:27:49.867+05:30Endorphins.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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If someone scrolls down my list of blog posts, they would soon lose interest.I mean, how long would you tolerate someone who's incessantly talking about trying to get better at things? Anyway, I believe it has a reason. Writing about these things acts as a big motivational tool for me.No matter how much you love doing something, periods come when you need a push.And my post is again treading on familiar territory.The path was never supposed to be easy.<br />
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I've become a recluse. Socially. I don't know how many Bengalis are there, who don't feel elated during Durga Pujas, the biggest festival in our region.I am one of them. DP is always meant to be fun, going out with friends,rating girls,having junk food, maybe liking someone in the Puja mandap ( as they show magnificently in the coca cola ad),getting drunk ( which is an absolute necessity for so many) and so on.But, over the last few years, it didn't seem to matter much. Infact, over the last couple of years, if i had to jot down a list of things which really mattered, it would be really short.Unconditional love.Never a myth. Trust me.<br />
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The challenge was always to become unique and make a difference.Not consciously.I have a natural aversion in thinking about things the normal,or should i say, the popular way. Yet, i always believe a large part of being unique lies in commonness itself. " I would rather feel pain than nothing at all. " -- it's one of my favourite lines from one of my favourite songs.<br />
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Worldly issues. Is Julian Assange going to stay in house arrest forever? Is Roger Federer going to be assasinated? How did Goldman Sachs cause the food crisis? yeah, right.I have views.so? nobody gives a rats ass if you can't contribute to a cause or change things. Plain awareness does not help. That is what they don't tell you. It's as good as being an ignorant fool.Life isn't supposed to be this way.Freedom is way too much overrated.<br />
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Ample proof of a muddled up mind.Cold Turkey without heroin? Shoot.Maybe I'm unique after all.<br />
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sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-5518432216061947342012-08-19T10:15:00.002+05:302012-08-19T10:15:57.238+05:30Futility.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Yesterday was the Annul Prize distribution ceremony of the Asansol Sub Divisional Sports Association. I attended it after a long, long, time. It was in a pretty bad state before, and it has duly maintained its standards. However the funny part is, no matter how bad state the ASDSA is, no matter how much our demands remain unanswered, our State ministers, whichever, political party, ( the last time I was there CPM was in control ), invariably make it to the occasion, some don't,obviously though. As you watch these ministers dressed in thier dhoti - panjabi's or suits, and the boys and girls, vast majority of who are from the semi - urban parts of our town, some incredibly talented, but unaware of the fact, you just begin to realise again how the terms ' Scouting talents ' or ' Youth Developments ' are still misnomers in India on a broader perspective. It makes me, sad, really sad, though in a few months, I would not have anything to do with it. I remember the last time I attended this, I was entering my adolescence, and I had a huge row with mom regarding how I would dress myself up for the occasion. So, as I was approaching towards the dais yesterday, (wearing my regular tracks, and a funk college T- shirt having the words " I only give negative feedback " boldly imprinted infront, hahaha!, and I was pretty sure I was the worst dressed person in the hall) to collect my runner up medal towards the impeccably dressed whoever minister, it was nonchalance redefined for me.<br />
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I have plans. It would be stupid talking about them now, but I do have them in place all right.</div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-36481945950163385832012-08-18T15:16:00.001+05:302012-08-18T15:16:40.202+05:30changes aren't good or bad, they are just changes.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Listening to the band,watching the children, and thinking of Tariq -- missing the boy already -- I remembered an incident from the prison. In that other world within a world, back then, I moved into a new prison cell and discovered a tiny mouse there. The creature entered through a cracked air vent, and crept into the cell every night. Patience and obsessional focus are the gems we mine in the tunnels of prison, solitude. Using them and tiny morsels of food, I bribed the little mouse, over several weeks, and eventually trained it to eat from the edge of my hand. When the prison guards moved me from that cell in a routine rotation, I told the new tenant-- a prisoner I thought I knew well -- about the trained mouse. On the morning after the move, he invited me to see the mouse. He'd captured the trusting creature, and crucified it, face down on a cross made from a broken ruler.He laughed as he told me how the mouse had struggled when he'd tied it by its neck to the cross within the cotton thread. He marvelled at how long it had taken to drive thumbtacks into its wriggling paws.<br />
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Are we ever justified in what we do? That question ruined my sleep for a long time after I saw the tortured little mouse. When we act, even with the best of intentions, when we interfere with the world, we always risk a new disaster that mightn't be of our making, but that wouldn't occur without our action. <i>Some of the worst wrongs</i>, Karla once said, <i>were caused by people who tried to change things</i>.<br />
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sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-61989712518038814402012-08-13T15:51:00.000+05:302012-08-13T15:51:04.944+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope. Sometimes we cry with everything except tears. In the end, that's all there is : love and it's duty, sorrow and it's truth. In the end that's all we have -- to hold on tight until the dawn. -- Gregory David Roberts. ( in his book Shantaram ) .</div>
sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-86351433473114931662012-06-24T00:06:00.000+05:302012-06-24T00:06:03.615+05:30CHEESY.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's monsoons, and even in a thoroughly defective individual like me, romantic hormones do a somersault from time to time. So I'll keep this short. Just a couple of lines about love. It's mind-blowingly cheesy, but as I've come to realise, you need cheesy from time to time.<div>
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1. Love cannot be quantified. You may like a lot of people at the same time, many may make you feel good,but the one you just can't hurt, no matter what, hurting who makes your insides churn, that is probably the person you're in love with.</div>
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2. This mainly goes for the girls. The guy who drowns himself in alcohol after having a fight with you doesn't love you. He does not have the balls to taste the flipside and he wants only the happy moments. The guy who </div>
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has a drink or two and wants to feel every bit of uneasiness the whole night, and in some way desperately wants to make things right is probably the one you should go for.</div>
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P.S. -- But you already knew these things, right? A twisted loony I am. I might very well be wrong. Stranger things have happened.....HAHA !!!!</div>
</div>sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-3594172744369318302012-05-12T17:04:00.000+05:302012-05-12T17:04:24.085+05:30Stronger.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
at the end of the day, all you have left is your principles and ideals. it's what has made you who you are.and over experiences, if you choose to let go of them,who do you have left with you?...no one. at least you can say you stood by something all along with pride. so, you choose to soldier on. man, i'm getting pretty good at this. not blogging, no, you idiots.i'm just tired of doing all the right things.wish my heart worked faster than my brain. i am never going to forget this month. for so many reasons. it's the " let go" month. and tomorrow is going to be the last United match i see at hostel. and then i know what i am going to do.i am going to be drunk. alcohol and weed.yeah.i will be stronger then on.</div>sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-66363402031947788512012-05-08T03:10:00.000+05:302012-05-08T03:10:17.000+05:30IF YOU HAVE A DREAM, YOU GOTTA PROTECT IT.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What is the difference between ambition and dream ?....it's a question that has baffled me sometimes.i guess when you dream, you don't have to consider things, you just let your mind gallop and see where it reaches....and ambition, i guess maybe is a more serious, logical counterpart. i don't know, maybe.<br />
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Anyway, i'm bloggin again...atleast for a while. the last few days of anything where you have experienced constancy over a period of time makes you introspect.and i am no different.college life will be over in a little over a fortnight.it has been good, hectic at times,i don't really know how to put it.i guess college life has just been college life -- would be a good way to put it.i will write a post dedicated to my friends and so on once i am over with college so i'm not really going to cry here on how much i'm going to miss each one.nothing humans don't get used to.still, i believe i will cry pretty bad when i leave 225- my room at hostel and i won't be ashamed of it.lets get back to where i started.i remember my first post where i mentioned how i wanted to be a footballer and stuff.i stick to it.when i was in class 8 or 9 i pretty much realised that my dream of being a top notch sportsman would remain unfulfilled.in a small town such as asansol where there were absolutely no facilities or attitude to nurture this dream of mine,maybe i was a kid a tad bit too long.i had lots going on then already.those who know me well would know it.i am pretty used to dealing with things on my own,infact i'm pretty good at it.so i remember that fateful afternoon.i had to do the thinking part.i was going nowhere.i had screwed up my exams pretty bad.the semi annuals.and i wasn't going to become a sportsman either. haha . does sound funny right? well,i'll bet my ass it wasn't.i wasn't really good at anything else.so i sat down to think.i had two options.plain and simple.either play or start studying and forget that you were ever good at any sport.i chose the second.for a few days. as days wen't by i realised maybe i just loved the sport more than i wanted to be this ' Oliver Kahn ' of India. i made my decision.people living in towns, they quickly adapt,its an inborne quality.i realised i just had to play, not at the expense of studies,this time.so, i chose to soldier on,playing, as the opportunities presented itself,while focussing on my studies as much as i could.<br /><br />
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Not a lot of people would say i did decent with my high school education.it just wasn't horrible.i got in here,my college.i took up table tennis more seriously,as individual sport is far easy to pursue.today, i'm placed in Infosys, no big deal allright,but not to be sneezed at either and i have repped my college in TT, Football..i have won my college podium finishes in a national level event...i have competed in the district championships..where i did not do too bad and if not for politics i probably would have represented ASN- DGP in the Sate trials.now do i regret that did not become the STAR i dreamt to be? no. i don't. not a bit.i had my dream intact. it just got modified in a logical way.yes, it hasn't been easy.there have been days where i just wanted to give up, smash my racquet, and have a joint to celebrate.but i've resisted, patiently waited for the phase to get over.i've walked 6 kms in the blazing sun thrice a week to my academy until now,where most others have been doing far more attractive things.yes, i made sacrifices, and i'm not exaggerating one bit, to keep my dream going,and i'm proud of it.Sport has made me who i am,it hs shaped me as an individual.yes, there's probably a couple of things in my life i wanted to pan out differently than it did, but its all good.<br />
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There's a long career ahead of me. a fresh start. i have to be good at what i do.be it my job or a management degree.and it will be my first priority. my dream will still be there with me, and i will keep on playing, trying to improve and get closer, to be a star... to the world? no...to myself.at the end of this 22 years of eventful life, i've figured out what i wan't...at the end of the day i wan't to be satisfied, happy.you don't really really make money for anything else,in the broader perspective.do i regret that i couldn't start off with a higher paycheque?...no, not anymore.yes, there will be days, when i might think on those lines, but i already have an answer.no again.i'll build from what i have.it has been a feature of my life, and so be it. now,when i ponder about the difference between dream and ambition,(and you might as well differ,of course), the answer doesn't look so hard,no? <br />
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NEVER LET GO OF YOUR DREAMS.IT MIGHT BE CRAZY, STUPID, BUT WELL, IF YOU WERE CRAZY AND STUPID ENOUGH TO DREAM IT ONE DAY, IN YOUR OWN CRAZY AND STUPID WAY YOU WILL FIND A WAY TO PROTECT IT TOO.IT'S NEVER TOO LATE.</div>sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-5069685733696571892012-04-29T22:11:00.001+05:302012-04-29T22:11:03.694+05:30Wish I Had a Reason.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's the day my pillow got wet.....like really wet...and it wasn't the sweat out of my forehead, I swear.</div>sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3126637034476187989.post-14423365406606895182012-03-05T01:32:00.002+05:302012-03-05T02:20:49.042+05:30PULU PULU WAH WAH....here i am again...2am in the morning..jobless as ever, sitting and writing a post.Much to the irritation of a few of my friends, i have stopped writing, like, really.<br /><br />As i approach to the almost penultimate full month of my college life,i can only sit back and gaze, as i was absently gazing at the green shaded wall of my room moments ago.Not so long ago,i remember typing a post about school,what it meant to me,how it shaped me as an individual and how much i missed it.And before i could really get over it and understand what the hell was going on,i've reached the twilight of my college life as well.It's strange.Time flies,or wait,it just doesn't fly,it rockets past us like a supersonic jet making it's presence felt long after it's gone. College,in all, has been just college. Neither good, nor bad.Hostel has been fantastic to me.All my friends there and very few localites.Thoughts have changed, so has my perceptions,of things,philosophies,people etc.I always maintained i was never going to miss college.I admit i was wrong.People have changed over the four years,so i thing it's almost human for me to make some false assumptions.College will be missed,big time.<br /><br />looking back, the has been a sense of completion in college, barring the possibilty of course that i fail in any of my 8th semester subjects.People who i care about love me,good.Some hate me,even better.as far as sports is concerned i did what i could and i gave whatever i could to college.I've had ok grades.I have a not-to-be-sneezed-at job too.And few things,here and there.On a whole,if you aksed me,if i planned to do something more before i joined college i would say no.If college has changed any of my ideals,i would like to be an individual who makes a difference,in any respect,no matter how small it is.<br /><br />people change.and they return to give you explantions about things for which apparently you don't care anymore.What college life has definately taught me,sometimes the hard way,is that much contrary to the general belief -- people will always tend to mistrust and doubt you, unless you provide them sufficient reason not to do so.My love life is a farce.Unless some pandora's box opens and i'm suddenly convinced,(here i am still leaving that slight hole for the ray of hope to pass through...i'm such a lousy douche), i think i'm totally ready to start with a clean slate and meet a lot of new people.for a self-obsessed human being like me,it's difficult to find a girl,unless she were a bit of a nutterhead too.<br /><br />I'm feeling sleepy.It's just a couple of months more,then it's curtains to student life.Life has been life and it has come a long way.I'd like to think i've come full circle...and desperately, i want to tie up all the loose ends in whatever time left.No grudges, no carry on's...just wrap things up,keep the 22 years safely aside, and start on a new page.it's what i will be aiming to do.My next post will probably be when i'm at INFOSYS,blabbing shit about my boss.only time will tell.what are you looking at? GET LOST.sumanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18076314345526362191noreply@blogger.com4