NORTH BY NORTHEAST ‘16 – SUNGRI TO DEHRADUN’

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Sungri – Hanol – Damta – Dehradun

Distance this period: 283.90 km Total Distance: 3439.09 km

Sungri – 0 km

Hanol – 85.10 km

Damta – 99 km

Dehradun – 99.80 km

I entered Uttarakhand today. Its all downhill from Sungri. Rohru… Got a puncture. And while fixing that my front wheel got a bad alignment, which I realised very late. Result… well the tire got some bad cuts which foreced me to take a decision to de-tour towards Dehradun. Thats the only place I could get a new tire. Luch rajma-rice @ Tiuni. A bridge then left turn to Hanol. Right turn goes Chakrata. Before bridge the road leads to Shimla. Rohru to Katkoti is dusty bad riding, bad traffic. Booked a hotel in Hanol, by roadside ovelooking a temple.

Total KM – 85.10 km

Total expense – 410/- rs.

Approx time – 6.00 hrs.

Next day started uphill to Mori. From here straight goes to har-ki-dun. I look right turn to Purola. Lunch. At Naugaon, took straight road to Dehradun. Nice road, Rained. Made it to Dumta. Booked Hotel.

Total KM – 99 km

Total expense – 480/- rs.

Approx time – 8.00 hrs.

Good road till the junction, where left goes via Mussoorie right goes vai Vukasnagar. After lunch of parantha there look left turn to uphill ride. Quite road till the Fall, Kempty Falls then lots of traffic. loud music and waste by roadside. Foggie top at Mussoorie then downhill. Track & trails shop is near Kalika Market but they had no tire for me. Gave address of Firefox store near Wadia Institute. They had one.. Called a friend, stored The X there for next 3 days and went to Haldwani to see my family.

 

Now leaving Himachal… Approaching UK

 

This river divides HP to UK

 

Hanol Temple.. Mahasu Devta Temple.. ASI has marked it as heritage site.. that Tons river or Tamas means the water in it is forbidden.. not to be used for irrigation etc..

 

And I got a weired look
Then there are beautiful villages..

 

Yup.. thats the road I just peddled up..
Thats Kempty Falls on the back.. Me climbing up in fury

 

Mussoorie… in its gloryness

Fading intuition

Last night too was no good just like previous one; I tried to read book “Steppenwolf” by Hermann Hesse, and with that came my own reflection of my living, past actions and foolishly trying to relate that.

I got this intense feeling to talk to my father, which I couldn’t; being late night, it felt like ages then somehow I was able to move the my own thoughts on myself. It was like an intuition like knowing beforehand that something is going to happen or has already happened which I am not aware of but I am getting inside feelings or like someone signaling me or intuition what we call generally. All was well though, looks like this intuition is also fading with the age.

Well, the thing is I have been living in this room as a prisoner; it has no light, no cellphone coverage let alone internet or stuff like that. It’s been over a year now living like this. The book was like my own reflection- isolated and psychotic.

So I decided to open my arms again, socialize, get active on Facebook again, staring on other peoples life and then comparing with my own, moving ahead. I already have this blog to dump all my negativity, Twitter too comes handy sometime.

I really need to create some awesomeness around me.

Something like this is planned; let’s hope it goes well to start with.

Before that I need to finish this book (the writer claimed that it was highly misunderstood, which is exciting). Meanwhile this is the fourth book I am reading written by Hermann Hesse (kind of my favorite now).

“Mountains retained its favorite child”

“Challenge is what enthralls me and free spirit is what I exhibit. “Never Give Up, Never Give In!” is a phrase that works miracles for me. “Courage and Conviction” has been a way of expression of my self.” —  Malli Mastan Babu

Last night I was sleepless, my eyes were wide open as late as 2 am, the image of lifeless tent in Andes was alive in front of my eyes flashing like anything. My heart was desperately waiting for his soul to come and talk to me, though Mountains retained its favorite child, the mountaineer Malli Mastan Babu was quite awake in my head. He was my hero, without doubt. He conquered the final climb too. I pray and hope for peace, nothing more.

 

Year 2014 it was!!

Last day of 2014, and it’s time to look back to analyze the 365 days that just gone in a flash; the memory of year starting is so fresh inside, it’s like yesterday; literally so frustrating the starting was: the ending too is no more better. 2014 bought a new perspective, a different dimension in my thinking, in my way of life.

Didn’t do much travelling, unlike last year; however managed to slip myself on Medaram: Sammakka Saralamma Jatara and then Trip report – Hyderabad – Ooty trip, celebrated my birthday on Bus Trip: Shimla – Reckong Peo, a short trip to north-east was the last trip.

Coming to the run; finished Guwahati Half on 31st Aug 2014 and CRPF Half Marathon 2014 in high pain and desperation, apart from that no major cycling trip or anything like that.

And in that depressed phase said Bye bye Facebook after humiliating 4-5 months of chat with a bastard, whom I still curse, you will not have a good life; that’s only thing I ask from the fucking God!

One fine day my Laptop gone. One bloody broke into the house, twice, and took away everything of mine, leaving this motionless body that I am still carrying around to make fool of myself.

What expectation I have for New Year, you ask? Well; for be frank, I have no fucking idea. Let the year to come – will face you face to face dear year 2015, aa to sahii..

Dilli ki Sardi.

Finally; winter has spread its arms around Delhi, I can feel it early in the mornings’ when I try to foolishly convince myself to get up from the warmth of blanket; making false promises to myself that 5 min more, 1 more minute and things like that, but unable to.

And what else; nothing worth is happening, days are passing just like that and with age I am becoming more fearful, nervous about everything. Hope has vanished just like fart in the air, as they say. No curiosity, no energy left; what’s gonna happen next, I have no clue. The big ‘suicide ride plan’ is dusting somewhere in the corner; no matter how eagerly I am looking forward to it, it’s not making any sense, infact my own act, my own self is not making any sense. I just look at the skin and structure of my own hands and wonder what this is! The trembling hasn’t stopped, has increased instead. Fuck!

Yesterday we lost the cricket match. And tomorrow’s appointment at Shroff eye center for LASIK gonna make a big hole in my pocket. The finance for the dusting plan is in trouble. Two exams are coming up too, if I didn’t clear any of those life’s gonna go hell and will have to revive the dusting plan, if not.

And, I was a coward and still am, to letting you go. I can’t stop thinking about you, not even for a second.

Current read

Just landed two books – Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino and lean In by Sheryl Sandberg.

I am going to start with Invisible Cities first and the other one is to gift but before I do that I wanted to have a look at the book, just flipping around some pages would suffice I guess.

If you ask, what was tempting to buy these books, well, I watched the famous TED talk of this lady and wanted to have that on print. And for the Invisible, again, I read somewhere the last lines of the book and thought to go for the journey as well.

Time Metro & Thoughts

Today, I was coming to office on Metro and looking outside of the window pane, weirdness’ came inside, let’s call it Time Metro. I related this with our lives, every station is like a phase of life or say, an opportunity to do, I don’t know, let’s say to do something, act on something so that we can proceed to a new destination. If we miss a station or opportunity, either wait for next station which is some time apart or curse yourself for not acting on the presented opportunity. The train is running like time is and outside scenery keeps changing, greeneries are good times, barren land are thinking phases, ultimate goal is to reach the destination called death.

So, on that travel path that we followed, what matters? This world is just a metro compartment. Whatever is outside that will keep changing and altering that is not in our hands, which I tried to foolishly, now that’s the only thing left I can do, look outside and do nothing.

Last Sunday was fun though, primarily coz I slept most of the time which gave me less time to think (yes, I want to avoid thinking as much as I can) and other half of the day was spent roaming around India Gate. First I went to Indira Gandhi National Center for Arts @ Janpath to witness the joys of North East. The North East Carnival Festival was on, Sunday being the second last day, the food songs paintings’ music so many bands from that part of our country, it actually was great to just sit there and watch all that. Someday, will pay a visit to that part, I promised myself.

Then small an hour walk crossing India Gate, I found myself at Purana Qila. The South Asian Bands festival was going to end today. So many bands from south Asian countries were there to perform conducted by Seher & External Affairs Ministry (annually). It started at 0600PM, Morcha, Afgani Band was first, and then next was from Maldives. Donn Bhat & group was next, the music was kind of fresh, refreshing applaud from crowed was enough to prove that. Nepali band Mukti & Revival was a bomb, the crowed really went crazy on his tunes. He was the man of night I guess.

And last band was The Success from France, I heard some tracks making my way back to the matro station Pragati Maidan.

Laptop gone.

Some bloody thief broke into my house last Saturday and stole my Dell Laptop with 1GB Seagate external hard disk. And with this I lost everything all over again, thousands of memories that I captured, so many documents I had written, compiled from different sources, all gone.

Police refused to file report; they wanted it to be written as misplaced to avoid trouble for them. But then there are ways to do that and finally I did file to avoid any misuse. I don’t expect these bloody cops to take any action on that but you – the thief- whoever you are, you did wrong. Laptop is nothing to me man, you would have asked for it I never say no buddy but I need all my data back. You broke into a miserable person to make more n more miserable and desperate.

Accepted all the grieving and I deserve it.

Post Diwali Thoughts.

Though I didn’t see remains of crackers outside the big black gate, I’m hoping you had a good Diwali yesterday. And yea, I expected some messages from you but there was nothing. Anyways I’m not blaming you for that; this is what I chose, no matter how much I curse myself for that, I cannot change the things the way they are now. I don’t even know if you got my gift. So helpless, all I can do is pray for you and curse the fake boyfriend soul. And I know none of these will have any impact on either life, that’s for me that one day I will have my dues.

After yesterdays Diwali post, I went through some interesting blogs some citing how Diwali celebration has changed, some saying if we should celebrate it at all and mostly were wish blogs.

One blog got my attention; the way we celebrate it today. I still remember my childhood days when we used to clean and paint our houses with clay called Kamet, and then grind some rice to make rangoli. Before making rangoli we used to mark tilak to our cows, buffalos and all pets; there was a procedure for that, first do pooja, take a steel glass, and dip the rim of that glass on wet grinded rice put that on forehead of all the pets. The circle was a mark of purity. Rangoli art called ‘Aipan’, a traditional way of designing every doorstep, nobody knows that today. It used to be like that, gifting and exchanging sweets n all, cleaning decorating organizing a small market called Mela.

There was another entry saying there is nothing called Diwali. All are myths and creation of Brahmin mind; to keep their superiority in caste system. All that Ramayan, Mahabharat, Ved, Puran are just made up stories to keep the superiority intact. Pushyamitra Sung, the king of Sung Empire was used as a weapon and Buddhism was dusted by cruel activities.

So there are so many stories, myths but as I said in my previous post- we need a reason to do something. Whatever the tradition is behind these celebrations does anyone cares? I don’t think so. Instead of traditional Dia n flowers, we buy Chinese electric garland, market has flooded with Chinese crackers. China has given us so much in recent years like no one has. They have cheap alternative of everything and we love to buy it.

Bottom line is: change is irresistible and is bound to happen. What we need is a pure heart, care for humankind respect for each other.

I think I should stop biking to office. The more I cycle, more I think about everything. Well, I should go back to work now, plenty of SLA to achieve, so many activities to cover. Till then – keep fucking everyone’s life and you fake boyfriend bastard, I know you must be having great fucking sessions but remember your life will be hell.