Wayfarer's window!

While returning from office last evening, I halted at a traffic signal behind a small but unusual goods vehicle. The rear carriage, meant for transporting cargo, had been ingeniously divided into vertical tiers. On the lowest level, two family members sat among neatly stacked clay pots arranged almost like a storefront. The middle tier resembled a compact storeroom. Above, bedding, clothes, and curtains hung along the frame, forming what appeared to be a makeshift bedroom. This was not merely transport: it was home, shop, warehouse, and livelihood woven into one moving structure. In my travels across India, I have often seen travelling trader families walking with tents and bundles balanced on their heads. This vehicle felt like an “upgrade”: a mobile ecosystem of survival. Yet mobility for such tradespeople is not adventure; it is economic necessity. They move from town to town selling pottery, utensils, tools, toys, or offering repair services. Weekly haats, roadside halts, and vil...

I usually prefer the aisle seat when I fly. Yet, on my last two journeys, fate placed me by the window—and what a difference that made! Both times, the aircraft’s higher window opened to a canvas of clear, azure winter skies. But the stories those skies told were worlds apart. Flight One: A Grey Blanket Over Delhi My earlier flight to Delhi was tinged with dismay. As we cruised above the clouds, the upper skies were a serene blue, but as we descended, a thick grey shroud of smog swallowed the city below. The aerial view was almost obliterated, leaving only a dull haze where vibrant streets should have been. Later, friends in Delhi remarked that they hadn’t seen blue skies for years—an unfortunate testament to the city’s worsening air quality. During my trip, the smog seemed omnipresent, clinging to every corner I visited. It was a sobering experience, and here are a few pictures from that journey: Flight Two: A Himalayan Surprise My next flight was a revelation. Somewhere above Gorakhp...

Some songs get etched in your memory, only to discover one day, that you got the song wrong all these years! I remember quite distinctly my cousins singing it, when we were children. They were just back from their winter break from the Assam-Nagaland area, and had learnt a brand new song from their uncle who was in the army. The song sounded like it was about a monkey "Kalloram" who has stored peanuts under-ground. "Kalooram-ka badam zameen ka neeche hai!". The song had a wonderful interlude, sabash Helleluyah, and much later I came to know it used the popular tune of "the saints go marching on!" Only today, I came to know the actual story behind the song and the lyrics, which were entirely different. It was about a soldier Badluram whose was buried in the earth"Badluram ka badan zameen ke neeche hai!" Here goes actual lyrics and the transation of the song.... Ek Khuburat ladki thi… Usko dekh ke rifleman… Chindi khichna bhul gaya… Havaldar Major ...

This visit to Lucknow was a tad different.  The reason: I had local friends to guide me.  To restaurants with the choicest kebabs and parathas; to shops which has the best selections and most reasonably priced chikan-kari kurtas: and to some historic places along crowded markets.  While it happend all in a frenzy, my quickly clicked photos did not come out too well. But as I reached home, I tried a little bit of AI to spruce them up. So here goes my Ai enhanced pictures of the visit, along with an AI generated  limerick.   A visit to Lucknow, city of nawabs and kebabs so fine, With chikankari kurtis, kurtas and sarees in every line, My friends led me through markets and history untold, Where ancient monuments whispered stories of old, And tall modern buildings rose proudly, perfectly aligned.

The long and winding Lebong Cart Road of Darjeeling turns around at its northern most point. At this exact point, unescapable on good and clear days, emerges the amazing sight of the rolling blue hills giving way to the white majestic mountains crowned by the grand Kanchenjunga. Also at this very point, almost as colossal for their legacy and contribution of educating generations of young men, stands St Joseph's College and School, which are more popularly known as North Point College and School, Darjeeling. I was a special invitee to the Jubilee celebrations of the school and enjoyed my two days of festivities there. Day one, to enjoy the spectacular play, "Jesus Christ Superstar". Day two, for the sports meet and the awards night.  What I retained from the visit, were thoughts of gratitude towards the school, for having shaped the destinies of the students who studied there. Many of them went on to become nation builders, of not just India, but several neighbouring nati...

I must have been all of ten, when we first came to Mumbai. It was called "Bombay" then, a scintillating city of dreams, with superstars of celluloid, walking the streets as mere humans. Our hosts recommended that we visit the popular hotel "Sun-n-Sand" where we would surely encounter some of these stars. I don't quite remember seeing any such stars at the hotel, but unknowingly some scenes etched into my memories: the famous Juhu beach on which the hotel stood, the sun setting on the the Arabian Ocean where we took our photos, and the tables by the swimming pool where we sipped our cool drinks and enjoyed our ice-creams. Today, as I walked into the hotel, after a good forty years or so, the scenes came flooding back. I ran towards the pool, but it was under repair. Then the beach, almost nothing had changed. Then the sunset, vivid and enduring as ever, reminding me once again of a song: Carpenters "Its Yesterday Once More!" "All my best memories c...