On reading a news item in the papers, I went back in time to my days in Women’s Christian College, Chennai. It is not that I don’t think of my college otherwise for I am a member of the Alumnae committee and hence am in college ever y month for the meetings. What made me think of college now was the news that young Karun Chandok would be joining one of the F1 teams and would take part in the Formula One racing this year. The very fact that it is Karun Chandok, should have in itself brought about memories of college for his mother Chitra Chandok nee Thiagarajan is my class mate and some one I have known for the last so many years. But what really made me think of college was the way in which I connected the F1 racing to the bygone Sholavaram car races and the enthusiasm and impact the same aroused among the college students.
We grew up at a time when entertainment was bare minimum and opportunities to go out and have some wholesome fun were even more negligible. Apart from Mahabalipuram which was a day trip, there was nowhere nearby to go and thus the Sholavaram races presented the ideal situation for an outing. It goes without saying that many romances blossomed in this venue for the race drivers were a revered lot and the girls would be excited with just a sideways glance from them. I think to the college girls of that era, these drivers ranked high above any South Indian movie star what with the tinsel town being ruled by veterans like MGR and Shivaji.
Thus the two consecutive Mondays in February the buzz in college would be the races and as to whom among the glitterati were present. As such the talk of the races and attending the same were subjects that were taboo in college. It was an event which was off limit for the boarders but however most of them found ways to get out of the college premises. It is said that some of the college staff would attend the races just in order to make note of those boarders who had made their presence. Although nothing really serious came out of being seen, a showdown at the Principal’s office was certain. I have never had the opportunity to go for these races since I did not have any brothers nor was I acquainted with any boys. It required a lot of guts to be seen in the company of boys and at that point of time frankly I lacked that courage.
Sholavaram ruled the roost in the 60’s and 70’s. The participation both in the two and four wheeler categories were immense what with participants coming from all parts of the country and abroad including Sri Lanka and far off England. It was later on in the eighties that Sholavaram was deemed unfit and a new race track was made at Irungattukottai. The shift to the new venue coincided with my departure from India and thus I lost touch with the happenings there. However I am told that the charm which the condemned World War II air field of Sholavaram presented was not to be found in the more aristocratic new venue. You may wonder as to why I have brought in Sholavaram when the news item pertained to Karun Chandok. My reasoning goes on these lines - the three top motor car race drivers that India has so far produced are all off springs of the Sholavaram track.
Narain Karthikeyan is a name to reckon with when it comes to Formula Racing in India. He was the first person from the Indian sub continent to be selected by a Formula 1 team when in 2005 he was part of the Jordan team. Narain Karthikeyan had as his role model his father, a wonderful rally driver and winner of many awards in the seventies at Sholavaram. There is no enthusiast in this sporting field, who has not heard of his uncle Karivardhan whose passion it was to promote Car Racing in India. His premature death was a great loss to the sport. The next racing hero is Karun Chandok who it is said took to the sport like fish to water. How can it be otherwise for both his father and grandfather were veterans of the sport and have played an enormous role in the development of the same in India. It is said that his grandfather was one of the architects of the Sholavaram track. The third in the trinity is young Armaan Ebrahim who is yet to join the F1 league, but I am sure at the rate at which he is achieving, that day will not be far. It is a well known fact that his father was a very popular race driver at Sholavaram, having won many awards and that his father along with his grandfather has played a pivotal role in popularizing the sport in Tamilnadu/India.
Sholavaram is indeed the “Mullasthanam” (cornerstone) for Motor Sports in India and if and when India is ready to host the Formula 1 races, the only venue that can come to my mind is, well you have guessed it right!! This morning the papers say that the czar of F1 sporting namely Bernie Ecclestone has agreed to include India in the racing circuit as early as 2011. The venue is anybody’s guess, however I do sincerely hope that Ecclestone would have heard of Sholavaram and would deem it the right place. With big names like Vijay Mallya owning a F1 team and being in the fray, the stakes are high and thus I wonder what the chances for the World War II airfield would be. Mallya may be the proud owner of a team; however he too has had his initial glories in the rugged circuit of Sholavaram. Wonder if that would in any way tilt the balance. I know the final decision would depend on the economics, for Motor Sports is no different from other sports where the base line is business and the money it can bring in.
Where to hold the F1 may be something on which I cannot have a say, however there is this little something about the Racing Trio which cannot be prised from me. Karun’s mother is my classmate and as for Narain and Ermaan’s aunts, they are my good friends. This sets me wondering if the next prodigy in this sport will also be someone known to me and as to whether he/she will have a lineage to the good old cornerstone - Sholavaram.
P.S. Having called this article Cornerstone, I thought it a coincidence that the sport is controlled by EccleSTONE and that the Circuit in England is called SilverSTONE.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
In Search of the Gangaa
“Hontton pe sachchaee rahatee hain, Jahan dil mein safaee rahatee hain,
Hum us desh ke waasee hain, jis desh mein GANGAA bahatee hain”
These lyrics by the Hindi poet Shailendra Chauhan, set to tune by none other than the musical genius duo of Shankar-Jaikishan was immortalized by the voice of Mukesh in the movie Jis Desh mein Gangaa Bahatee Hain. Roughly translated these lines would mean, “Where only truth prevails on the lips and where the heart is pure, we belong to that land and that is the land where the GANGA flows.” The song was a hit as it was meant to be what with Raj Kapoor and Padmini picturising the same. However for a young girl of four/five, this initial stanza of the song apart from the rhythmic tone did not have any impact but she did learn that there is a river Gangaa which flows through India. So even before the girl went to school and learnt her basic lessons, she had got to know an important aspect of the Geography of her land. As the years went by and when she knew a smattering of Hindi, she understood the meaning of the stanza and realized that GANGAA was synonymous with India. Later her knowledge increased and she began to understand what made the GANGA so important to India and its people. She came to know that the river is a boon to the country and that the alluvial soil deposited by the Gangaa and her tributaries contributed to making the Gangetic plain fertile and an agricultural belt. She also learnt that the Gangaa provides the main source of water to a sizable portion of the population and is also instrumental in providing electricity to vast areas. She is indeed a savior to the multitudes of humanity who lived along her banks. The girl learnt that as the Gangaa meandered and flowed into the Bay of Bengal, she along with her tributary the Brahmaputra formed one of the largest estuaries in the world and that she supported the mangroves of the Sunderbans which is the world’s biggest ecosystem and also the home to the Royal Bengal Tiger.
As the years went by and in keeping with her quest for knowledge and things spiritual, the girl who by then had become a woman, came to know of the important pilgrimage centres situated on the banks of the Gangaa, namely Haridwar, Allahabad, Varanasi and Gaya. She also learnt that Gangaa herself is considered a Goddess and that taking a dip in her waters is believed to cleanse the soul. Thus it was formed in her mind that to see and worship the Gangaa would indeed be equivalent to or more than a pilgrimage to the holiest of shrines in India. The first time she chanced on the Gangaa was in Kolkatta where she is in a meeker form and is known as the Hooghly. The trip was not conducive for a close interaction and thus it remained a sight like many others during that stay. The next interaction for the lady was when she went to Varanasi and Allahabad. Now a trip to Varanasi is a double whammy for a Hindu, for not only is the Gangaa omnipresent, but the city is also home to the holiest of Hindu shrines namely that of Kasi Viswanath. A trip to this oldest living city in the world is thus a dream come true for any Hindu. Anxious to see both the temple and the Gangaa at close quarters, the lady reached the banks of the Gangaa on the 31st of January 2010 at around 4 in the evening. The sight of the Gangaa that met her eye was not what she had imagined. She had hoped to see the majestic Gangaa in full flow but was truly disappointed to see a very run down version, what with half the river bed dry and home to cacti like bushes. The stories about the deterioration of the Gangaa that the lady had read and seen in various news media came flashing to her and like the thousands of her country men; she too felt a deep heaviness in her heart. The sad fate of the river was indeed hard to overlook.
In that somber mood, she climbed into the boat and began the much awaited ride. The guide like all guides the world over went on in full flow, at a speed much faster than that of the river. He was keen to exhibit his knowledge and the group on the boat was so naïve that they heard him out in awe. The boat passed by Ghats belonging to or built by rulers from various parts of the country and before long came to the famous Harischandra Ghat. The murmur in the boat came to a standstill for here was one of the two burning Ghats and sure enough there were a couple of bodies being cremated. It is rare for a Hindu woman to witness a pyre and here she was all of a sudden witnessing more than one. As it is considered sacred to have oneself cremated on the Ghats of the GANGAA and the ashes immersed in the river, many people go to Varanasi towards the end of their lives just so that they are cremated there. The stark reality that the scene brought about made the mood totally pensive, and reconfirmed the well known truth of how close life and death are. They are indeed two sides of the same coin. Gangaa was ready to accept the human ashes with dignified poignancy just as she was ready to accept the Arati.
Talking of the Arati to the Gangaa, well, it is one of the most beautiful sights in the world. This is done at dusk and lasts for about forty five minutes. The devotion with which it is performed is beyond comparison and the impression it leaves in one is mind boggling. The lady felt that she won’t be wrong if she stated that witnessing the Arati left a far more lasting impression than the Darshan of the Jyotirlingam of Kasi Viswanath. There is no doubt that a visit to the temple of Kasi Viswanath is in itself a wonderful experience and no words can describe the effect it has on one’s inner self. The fact that the Lingam can be touched and that the devotee could perform the Abhishekams made it extra special. With these once in a lifetime experiences and vivid images that she had gathered in Varanasi, the lady left for Allahabad.
Gangaa at Allahabad is joined by Yamuna and the mythical Saraswathi. The Triveni Sangam is another revered spot for any Hindu and the fact that one could be there is in itself considered sacred. The two visible “mahanadis” seemed to be a shadow of their earlier selves. The lady was truly crestfallen. How could the one billion people allow something that is symbolic of their country to reach such a dismal state? This question kept haunting her and she wondered as to how she could turn the table. Knowing that her generation would have to live with a Gangaa that is totally polluted (atleast in the plains), she decided that she would traverse upstream in the hope of seeing the river in its magnificence.
It won’t be long before she makes a trip to Haridwar and Gangotri in that order for her approach to the Gangaa so far has been in the reverse. Will it be wrong for her to wish that at Gangotri she will come across people with “Hontton pe sachchaee rahatee hain, Jahan dil mein safaee rahatee hain”.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tryst with Nirvana
When did my day (16th February 2010) start or for that matter when did the previous day end? I don’t think I can differentiate between the two for I was living every moment of the happenings of the previous day over and over in my mind and was also excited about the happenings that would unfold during the day in question. Being a sound sleeper, the rocking movements of the train would normally have acted like the swinging of a cradle, however this time around it failed to induce in me the slumber I really enjoy. My brain like the rest of my body just refused to rest as it was tuned to experience and enjoy every moment of the 60 hours which began on February 15th and would end on February 17th 2010.
The morning of the 15th of February was indeed memorable, right from when I went to the temple before Rahu Kaalam and purchased my “MALA”, which I had sighted earlier to getting the same blessed at the feet of the Lord. Later, when I donned the MALA in my Pooja Room, it was indeed a feeling of being blessed. Although it was only a ‘thulasi mala” that went around my neck, the feel was one of having worn a sacred shield and the thought was that of being totally protected and in HIS care. The “KETTUNIRA” was indeed a wonderful experience and when I chanted the “SHARANAMS” I felt totally immersed in my piety. The trip to the station and the travel to our destination which was Kottayam was the routine part of the pilgrimage and there was no way in which it could have been shortened. However for me it was the last few hours in which I could mentally prepare myself for the imminent climb and Darshan.
We reached Kottayam on time and after the morning ablutions and bath at the station itself we embarked on our journey. The first stop was at Erumeli, where we worshipped at the shrine of Lord Ayyappa and being first time pilgrims should have performed the customary PETTAH THULLAL. (A kind of dance, the purpose of which I think is to lighten the otherwise solemn mood). The visit to the mosque of VAVAR was symbolic and then we proceeded to PAMPA, the base of the one and only Sabarimala. Although we passed through some very picturesque country, my mind did not take in the beauty for we were all immersed in singing the bhajans of the Lord. After wetting our feet and washing our face in the holy waters of the River Pampa, we proceeded to have a darshan of Lord Vinayaka the deity at Pampa. Seeking his blessings and breaking a coconut to ward of all impediments, the journey began.
It is hard for me to describe the ascent; however I will try my best to do so. I cannot call it easy for it is far from being easy for a fit youngster and thus for someone of my disposition and age it can be really grueling. However I will not be exaggerating when I say that I found the climb to be well within my ability. I did pant and sweat but was never in a state where I thought it impossible. The chanting of SHARANAMS enroute may have taken the intensity off to a small extent. When I reached “Sharamkuthi Allu” and was told that the climb was over and that we had reached the plateau, I could not believe my ears. Here I was prepared for much more to come and suddenly having achieved what I was so apprehensive about made me feel a tinge disappointed. The rest of the 3 kilometres was literally a cake walk and in no time we were in the precinct of the temple.
I may have seen various shots and clippings of the temple and its vicinity on television, for during the Mandalam – Makkaram season all the Malayalam channels beam these shots on a daily basis. However nothing prepared me for the actual sighting. The 18 sacred steps seemed to be almost like what I had imagined except that they were a bit narrower and steeper. The rest of the temple was at another level and to view the same I had to wait for the evening. Exactly at 5pm when the temple opened for the evening, I proceeded to the temple wearing my black sari and with the “Irumudi Kettu” on my head. For without the Kettu, one does not get to climb the 18 steps. Having climbed the steps, I entered the actual temple; however it took me another half an hour to get the Darshan of the Lord. The wait in the queue seemed never ending for having reached such close proximity; every minute seemed like an hour. After praying to the Lord for over 45 years the moment I had been waiting for was finally to arrive. I was well aware that my first Darshan would only be a fleeting one as the crowd had burgeoned and the push from the back would definitely make me move forward. With both hands trying to balance the Irumudi, it was a little difficult to maneouvre for some time and space. Finally when I got my turn to stand in front of the sanctum sanctorum, I was so focused that the only image that registered in my mind was the deity of the LORD. The deity was exactly as what I had imagined. HE was seated wearing his resplendent gold shield and the lamps were lit in such a manner as to bring out the golden glow. I don’t know if my eyes were playing some kind of trick for it did seem as if there was a pronounced halo. With that image set clearly in my mind’s eye, my first tryst ended.
My prayers were answered for immediately I got a chance to go to a closer spot at the Sanctum Sanctorum and could pray as well as notice all the nuances of the deity and the surroundings. The next couple of hours were spent in the temple and we made sure to go and pray to the other deities in the complex. We were lucky to witness a Padi Pooja (Pooja for the 18 steps) and remained in the temple complex till “Harivarasanam” was sung. This is the lullaby for the Lord and the version rendered at the temple is sung by Padma Bhushan K.J. Jesudas. Every moment of the 6 hours we spent in the temple complex was to me a new experience and I enjoyed it thoroughly. There seemed to be an air of equality and the atmosphere was far more liberal than what prevails in other temples of Kerala. When I turned in for the night, I was indeed sad that the day I had waited for all these years had come to an end.
The next morning we were back at the temple by 6am and after witnessing the “Nei Abhishekam” returned to the room and got ready for the trip down hill. The walk down hill was indeed hard what with my poor legs having to bear the weight of my body. By the time we reached PAMPA it seemed as if my legs had a mind of their own for they just refused to align with the rest of the body. The ride back to Kottayam was pensive for I was living through my just concluded experiences and was trying to assimilate the essence of the same.
The abode of the Lord is less than 3000 metres above sea level; however the sense of positivity and spiritual upliftment that envelops one during the pilgrimage is far beyond that. I would definitely term the impact as being magnetic for here I am like the crores of fellow devotees ready to go on my next trip. On summation, I would call this experience as a first time tryst with Nirvana.
The morning of the 15th of February was indeed memorable, right from when I went to the temple before Rahu Kaalam and purchased my “MALA”, which I had sighted earlier to getting the same blessed at the feet of the Lord. Later, when I donned the MALA in my Pooja Room, it was indeed a feeling of being blessed. Although it was only a ‘thulasi mala” that went around my neck, the feel was one of having worn a sacred shield and the thought was that of being totally protected and in HIS care. The “KETTUNIRA” was indeed a wonderful experience and when I chanted the “SHARANAMS” I felt totally immersed in my piety. The trip to the station and the travel to our destination which was Kottayam was the routine part of the pilgrimage and there was no way in which it could have been shortened. However for me it was the last few hours in which I could mentally prepare myself for the imminent climb and Darshan.
We reached Kottayam on time and after the morning ablutions and bath at the station itself we embarked on our journey. The first stop was at Erumeli, where we worshipped at the shrine of Lord Ayyappa and being first time pilgrims should have performed the customary PETTAH THULLAL. (A kind of dance, the purpose of which I think is to lighten the otherwise solemn mood). The visit to the mosque of VAVAR was symbolic and then we proceeded to PAMPA, the base of the one and only Sabarimala. Although we passed through some very picturesque country, my mind did not take in the beauty for we were all immersed in singing the bhajans of the Lord. After wetting our feet and washing our face in the holy waters of the River Pampa, we proceeded to have a darshan of Lord Vinayaka the deity at Pampa. Seeking his blessings and breaking a coconut to ward of all impediments, the journey began.
It is hard for me to describe the ascent; however I will try my best to do so. I cannot call it easy for it is far from being easy for a fit youngster and thus for someone of my disposition and age it can be really grueling. However I will not be exaggerating when I say that I found the climb to be well within my ability. I did pant and sweat but was never in a state where I thought it impossible. The chanting of SHARANAMS enroute may have taken the intensity off to a small extent. When I reached “Sharamkuthi Allu” and was told that the climb was over and that we had reached the plateau, I could not believe my ears. Here I was prepared for much more to come and suddenly having achieved what I was so apprehensive about made me feel a tinge disappointed. The rest of the 3 kilometres was literally a cake walk and in no time we were in the precinct of the temple.
I may have seen various shots and clippings of the temple and its vicinity on television, for during the Mandalam – Makkaram season all the Malayalam channels beam these shots on a daily basis. However nothing prepared me for the actual sighting. The 18 sacred steps seemed to be almost like what I had imagined except that they were a bit narrower and steeper. The rest of the temple was at another level and to view the same I had to wait for the evening. Exactly at 5pm when the temple opened for the evening, I proceeded to the temple wearing my black sari and with the “Irumudi Kettu” on my head. For without the Kettu, one does not get to climb the 18 steps. Having climbed the steps, I entered the actual temple; however it took me another half an hour to get the Darshan of the Lord. The wait in the queue seemed never ending for having reached such close proximity; every minute seemed like an hour. After praying to the Lord for over 45 years the moment I had been waiting for was finally to arrive. I was well aware that my first Darshan would only be a fleeting one as the crowd had burgeoned and the push from the back would definitely make me move forward. With both hands trying to balance the Irumudi, it was a little difficult to maneouvre for some time and space. Finally when I got my turn to stand in front of the sanctum sanctorum, I was so focused that the only image that registered in my mind was the deity of the LORD. The deity was exactly as what I had imagined. HE was seated wearing his resplendent gold shield and the lamps were lit in such a manner as to bring out the golden glow. I don’t know if my eyes were playing some kind of trick for it did seem as if there was a pronounced halo. With that image set clearly in my mind’s eye, my first tryst ended.
My prayers were answered for immediately I got a chance to go to a closer spot at the Sanctum Sanctorum and could pray as well as notice all the nuances of the deity and the surroundings. The next couple of hours were spent in the temple and we made sure to go and pray to the other deities in the complex. We were lucky to witness a Padi Pooja (Pooja for the 18 steps) and remained in the temple complex till “Harivarasanam” was sung. This is the lullaby for the Lord and the version rendered at the temple is sung by Padma Bhushan K.J. Jesudas. Every moment of the 6 hours we spent in the temple complex was to me a new experience and I enjoyed it thoroughly. There seemed to be an air of equality and the atmosphere was far more liberal than what prevails in other temples of Kerala. When I turned in for the night, I was indeed sad that the day I had waited for all these years had come to an end.
The next morning we were back at the temple by 6am and after witnessing the “Nei Abhishekam” returned to the room and got ready for the trip down hill. The walk down hill was indeed hard what with my poor legs having to bear the weight of my body. By the time we reached PAMPA it seemed as if my legs had a mind of their own for they just refused to align with the rest of the body. The ride back to Kottayam was pensive for I was living through my just concluded experiences and was trying to assimilate the essence of the same.
The abode of the Lord is less than 3000 metres above sea level; however the sense of positivity and spiritual upliftment that envelops one during the pilgrimage is far beyond that. I would definitely term the impact as being magnetic for here I am like the crores of fellow devotees ready to go on my next trip. On summation, I would call this experience as a first time tryst with Nirvana.
Friday, February 12, 2010
A Reality Show
I love travelling and have had the privilege of seeing far too many destinations than what I can remember. Almost all of these trips have been enjoyable and have without doubt added to my personality in more ways than I can imagine. However when I have to talk of my just concluded trip I can only say that it was far beyond comparison with any of my earlier trips and that the experiences gathered covered a very wide spectrum. To start with, the planning for this trip began way back in July when it was announced that the 12th Triennial Conference of the Association of Inner Wheel Clubs in India would be held at VARANASI from the 29th to 31st of January 2010. This is the fourth triennial conference after I joined the Inner Wheel movement but some how I did not think it necessary to attend the earlier ones. This one was different by sheer virtue of its location. Varanasi drew me like a magnet in the same fashion as it has done the millions of believers and non believers earlier. Here before me lay the opportunity to visit the world’s oldest living city and in no way was I going to let this opportunity go by. My good friend Nandini was the person who mooted the idea and from then on the talk at any social or family gathering meandered to the impending Varanasi trip.
By virtue of owning a Travel Agency the onus was on me to make the arrangements for the trip. Thus right from the inception to the final itinerary was my baby and I went about doing it merrily. Everything fell into place by the end of October and there seemed to be no loopholes left to be plugged. I won’t be exaggerating when I say that I was so pleased with myself and at times felt smug like a cat that had just wiped off a bowl of cream. Although there were three months more for the trip, in my mind the count down had already begun.
Around the 15th of January, there was a shift in my mood thanks to the prevalent weather in New Delhi. Everyday saw me calling family or friends in Delhi and Varanasi to enquire about the weather and if I heard that it was sunny over there, I would have a golden glow in my demeanour too. The cat and mouse game with the fog began eating my nerves, and so finally around the 24th of January I decided that I am just going to let things take the natural course, for after all who am I to dictate to nature. Nevertheless I was the first to switch on the TV to watch the Republic Day Parade. I do enjoy watching the pomp and glory of all things Indian and this is one day when I am a little more proud of our uniformed forces. (My grandfather served in the Army and my Dad in the Police). This time around I had an ulterior motive and that was to gauge the intensity of the fog and sure enough, the fog did not disappoint me. 27th of January was no better and the news of the hay wire flight schedules was indeed a matter of concern. However I did manage a good night’s sleep.
28th of January was proclaimed as being a great day in Delhi with the fog having magically dispersed. On that happy note I set off from the house to be joined by 10 other ladies at the airport. Our flight was called and when we boarded it, we were truly relieved. However the relief was short lived, for as soon as we landed in Delhi, I had a call from the 12th member of the group informing me that the train would leave from Delhi only at 5am on the morning of the 29th. The fog had brought about a back log and there was nothing that could be done. Although we had an option to go to the comfort of a home and a good night’s sleep before taking the train, we decided against it and instead went straight to the railway station to see if there were any other options. Having mentally tuned ourselves to the worst scenario, we remained stoic and each one of us was prepared for the eventuality. The night of 28th January was not the best of days to visit the Delhi station. It was overcrowded with people sitting, standing, lying and in postures hard to describe. Being a ladies group, we were immediately surrounded by touts trying to play the role of good Samaritans. We stood out like sore thumbs in that situation and would have seemed to the touts as being easy targets. Little did they realize that we were women of substance whom it was difficult to hoodwink leave alone take for a ride.
We heard about another train which would touch Mughalsarai (18 kms from Varanasi) and decided to catch the same provided tickets were available in air conditioned coaches. The scheduled departure was at 12.50am. Since the current booking would only start less than 2 hrs before departure of the train, we had ample time to while away. We were lucky in that we were provided the office room of the RMS inspector where we could sit on chairs. The importance of the cell phone came to the fore that night, for calls were made left, right and centre and thus we came to know that AC three tier tickets were available for the said train. Finally Mala and I prompted by Nandini decided we would go to the booking counter and try our luck. The next half hour was indeed like a film set what with two South Indian ladies at almost midnight waiting to buy train tickets and with touts on all four sides passing comments in Hindi and dissuading us in every possible way. I was indeed so scared of opening my purse to take out the cash for fear of being robbed. However like the Hindi movie finale, good won over evil, for we not only got the said tickets but we also got them together in two adjacent bays. Triumphantly we walked to the rest of the group and for the next few minutes were treated like heroines or shall I say heroes, for I wonder if the men would have achieved what we did. The train left at 1.30am and our joy knew no bounds.
I will never call that night a night mare, for each time I think about it, what comes to the forefront is the good time we had cuddled together in the RMS room. Our sense of humour never failed us and indeed our feathers remained totally unruffled. Our perseverance saw us through for we were surely a determined lot. I think most of us grew up in more ways than one at the end of that experience. Being used to comfort and protection, this may have been the first time that we were exposed to such realities. It was almost as if we had come unscathed from a test by fire. With such a heady start to our trip, I was sure that the rest of the days would be as memorable.
P.S. My thanks to Jasodha, Ramalakshmi, Sucharita, Nandini, Meena, Haripriya, Mala, Rama, Vidya, Sunita and Kamala for simply being with me.
By virtue of owning a Travel Agency the onus was on me to make the arrangements for the trip. Thus right from the inception to the final itinerary was my baby and I went about doing it merrily. Everything fell into place by the end of October and there seemed to be no loopholes left to be plugged. I won’t be exaggerating when I say that I was so pleased with myself and at times felt smug like a cat that had just wiped off a bowl of cream. Although there were three months more for the trip, in my mind the count down had already begun.
Around the 15th of January, there was a shift in my mood thanks to the prevalent weather in New Delhi. Everyday saw me calling family or friends in Delhi and Varanasi to enquire about the weather and if I heard that it was sunny over there, I would have a golden glow in my demeanour too. The cat and mouse game with the fog began eating my nerves, and so finally around the 24th of January I decided that I am just going to let things take the natural course, for after all who am I to dictate to nature. Nevertheless I was the first to switch on the TV to watch the Republic Day Parade. I do enjoy watching the pomp and glory of all things Indian and this is one day when I am a little more proud of our uniformed forces. (My grandfather served in the Army and my Dad in the Police). This time around I had an ulterior motive and that was to gauge the intensity of the fog and sure enough, the fog did not disappoint me. 27th of January was no better and the news of the hay wire flight schedules was indeed a matter of concern. However I did manage a good night’s sleep.
28th of January was proclaimed as being a great day in Delhi with the fog having magically dispersed. On that happy note I set off from the house to be joined by 10 other ladies at the airport. Our flight was called and when we boarded it, we were truly relieved. However the relief was short lived, for as soon as we landed in Delhi, I had a call from the 12th member of the group informing me that the train would leave from Delhi only at 5am on the morning of the 29th. The fog had brought about a back log and there was nothing that could be done. Although we had an option to go to the comfort of a home and a good night’s sleep before taking the train, we decided against it and instead went straight to the railway station to see if there were any other options. Having mentally tuned ourselves to the worst scenario, we remained stoic and each one of us was prepared for the eventuality. The night of 28th January was not the best of days to visit the Delhi station. It was overcrowded with people sitting, standing, lying and in postures hard to describe. Being a ladies group, we were immediately surrounded by touts trying to play the role of good Samaritans. We stood out like sore thumbs in that situation and would have seemed to the touts as being easy targets. Little did they realize that we were women of substance whom it was difficult to hoodwink leave alone take for a ride.
We heard about another train which would touch Mughalsarai (18 kms from Varanasi) and decided to catch the same provided tickets were available in air conditioned coaches. The scheduled departure was at 12.50am. Since the current booking would only start less than 2 hrs before departure of the train, we had ample time to while away. We were lucky in that we were provided the office room of the RMS inspector where we could sit on chairs. The importance of the cell phone came to the fore that night, for calls were made left, right and centre and thus we came to know that AC three tier tickets were available for the said train. Finally Mala and I prompted by Nandini decided we would go to the booking counter and try our luck. The next half hour was indeed like a film set what with two South Indian ladies at almost midnight waiting to buy train tickets and with touts on all four sides passing comments in Hindi and dissuading us in every possible way. I was indeed so scared of opening my purse to take out the cash for fear of being robbed. However like the Hindi movie finale, good won over evil, for we not only got the said tickets but we also got them together in two adjacent bays. Triumphantly we walked to the rest of the group and for the next few minutes were treated like heroines or shall I say heroes, for I wonder if the men would have achieved what we did. The train left at 1.30am and our joy knew no bounds.
I will never call that night a night mare, for each time I think about it, what comes to the forefront is the good time we had cuddled together in the RMS room. Our sense of humour never failed us and indeed our feathers remained totally unruffled. Our perseverance saw us through for we were surely a determined lot. I think most of us grew up in more ways than one at the end of that experience. Being used to comfort and protection, this may have been the first time that we were exposed to such realities. It was almost as if we had come unscathed from a test by fire. With such a heady start to our trip, I was sure that the rest of the days would be as memorable.
P.S. My thanks to Jasodha, Ramalakshmi, Sucharita, Nandini, Meena, Haripriya, Mala, Rama, Vidya, Sunita and Kamala for simply being with me.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Trepidation
December and January are the two months when Chennai enjoys a nip in the air. The weather is amicable and the mornings can sometimes be pleasantly cold. To sum it up these are the two months when sleeping in the morning is a treat. However this January, I have been very serious about my walks. After a hiatus of a couple of months, I have got down to serious business. The chill and the darkness is not an impediment any more and I religiously leave the house at six in the morning and go about my normal 45 mins to one hour of brisk walking. Now don’t get me wrong for I have not been bitten by the fitness bug. But on the other hand I do want to be fit, in order to execute a pilgrimage which I plan to undertake next month.
I have known about this shrine, for over forty five years, and it has been my wish to visit the same. Being a woman, I knew that I had to wait for the right time to come before I could fulfil my wishes. Now it is four years since the “right time”, however I am yet to fulfil my wish. It is not for lack of opportunities, for my husband goes to the said shrine at least twice a year. Again it is not for lack of piety that I did not make the trip. The reason for the delay is due to the trepidation that I feel each time I think of the pilgrimage. Finally I have taken the plunge, for otherwise I feel that it may be too late and thus I may not be able to perform the pilgrimage the way I would like to. Thus on the 15th of February 2010, I am going to Sabarimala and with this realise my dream of having a darshan of the presiding deity, Lord Ayyappa.
The first time I heard or remember hearing about Sabarimala and Lord Ayyappa was in the year 1964, when my father made his one and only pilgrimage to the shrine. At that point, a pilgrimage to Sabarimala was filled with danger as the trek uphill was hard and arduous and the forests filled with wild animals. It is said that a successful return after the trip was itself considered a gift from the God. The preparations for the trip begin forty one days in advance. The devotees begin the vrittam/abstinenance on the first day of the Malayalam month of Vrischikam, which coincides with the 16th of November at most times. Once the vrittam begins, the devotees dress in simple black outfit, which in most cases is a dhoti for men and a sari for women. Abstinence from all pleasures both physical and mental is a must thus ensuring a state of body and mind which would take one through the pilgrimage almost unscathed. With the passing of time many of these outward customs have been modified to suit the devotee; however the core of the pilgrimage is the total belief in the Almighty.
To me observing the vrittam has never been difficult simply because I do it every year for the said forty one days. As for my dressing and appearance, I continue in the usual manner as I plan to wear the “mala” only on the day of my departure. Once the mala is around the neck, the degree of purity around the house should be of the highest order and this is something I feel will be difficult to attain. Being my first trip to the shrine, I sometimes wonder if I am doing things the right way, however I am sure that the almighty will accept my devotion in the manner in which I am able to fulfil it.
Ever since the trip has been planned, I must have asked over a hundred people about the trek to the shrine and have come up with over hundred varied answers regarding the same. There are the youngsters who tell me that they just run up and hence are able to cover the distance in little over an hour. This version, much as I would love to believe, I know is next to impossible for someone of my age and disposition. Then there are others who have told me that it is not as difficult as it is made out to be and can be done with considerable ease. There are also some who have told me that it is hard and hence should be taken with extreme caution. Seeing my physical appearance, people have even questioned me on my wish to trek my way up. The other option I have is to use a palanquin. Although there is a possibility that as a last resort I may have to use that service, I will nevertheless begin my pilgrimage on foot like the thousands of devotees who do it all the time.
I get some kind of solace when I am told of how people with serious physical disabilities have taken the journey on foot. They attribute these unbelievable stories to sheer perseverance and implicit faith. Somehow extreme perseverance has never been my forte and thus I feel incapacited in that regard. However my prayers are that my faith will make up where and when my perseverance fails. I have no clue as to what is in store; however I have decided that I will take each step of the pilgrimage in the manner in which it comes. Having said that, I will be lying to myself if I say that I am not apprehensive. Considering the importance of the Shrine and the difficulty of the trip, there is no way in which I can take this pilgrimage lightly. Whenever I think of the journey, I end up with a total blank for I do not know as to where I stand as far as the performance goes.
There are I feel a couple of things in my favour and the one thing that stands topmost is the fact that I walked up Thirumala, which is also an exercise in perseverance. But then this was something I did eleven years ago and although mentally I am as young, I cannot say the same about my physical state. I wonder if the same pair of legs that took me up Thirumala will now be able to take me up Sabarimala?? I hope and pray that my legs will not let me down. The second and the most important thing that is in my favour, is my faith in the Lord. I have felt his invisible presence so many times. I always feel that he has heard my prayers and has never failed to open my eyes to solutions.
Next week I begin my journey in total submission to the Lord, however this will still not put to rest the feeling of trepidation that goes on in my mind. How I wish I could master that anxiety, but then if I am able to do that, I would have moved into another league.
PS. You will definitely hear from me once I return from the pilgrimage.
I have known about this shrine, for over forty five years, and it has been my wish to visit the same. Being a woman, I knew that I had to wait for the right time to come before I could fulfil my wishes. Now it is four years since the “right time”, however I am yet to fulfil my wish. It is not for lack of opportunities, for my husband goes to the said shrine at least twice a year. Again it is not for lack of piety that I did not make the trip. The reason for the delay is due to the trepidation that I feel each time I think of the pilgrimage. Finally I have taken the plunge, for otherwise I feel that it may be too late and thus I may not be able to perform the pilgrimage the way I would like to. Thus on the 15th of February 2010, I am going to Sabarimala and with this realise my dream of having a darshan of the presiding deity, Lord Ayyappa.
The first time I heard or remember hearing about Sabarimala and Lord Ayyappa was in the year 1964, when my father made his one and only pilgrimage to the shrine. At that point, a pilgrimage to Sabarimala was filled with danger as the trek uphill was hard and arduous and the forests filled with wild animals. It is said that a successful return after the trip was itself considered a gift from the God. The preparations for the trip begin forty one days in advance. The devotees begin the vrittam/abstinenance on the first day of the Malayalam month of Vrischikam, which coincides with the 16th of November at most times. Once the vrittam begins, the devotees dress in simple black outfit, which in most cases is a dhoti for men and a sari for women. Abstinence from all pleasures both physical and mental is a must thus ensuring a state of body and mind which would take one through the pilgrimage almost unscathed. With the passing of time many of these outward customs have been modified to suit the devotee; however the core of the pilgrimage is the total belief in the Almighty.
To me observing the vrittam has never been difficult simply because I do it every year for the said forty one days. As for my dressing and appearance, I continue in the usual manner as I plan to wear the “mala” only on the day of my departure. Once the mala is around the neck, the degree of purity around the house should be of the highest order and this is something I feel will be difficult to attain. Being my first trip to the shrine, I sometimes wonder if I am doing things the right way, however I am sure that the almighty will accept my devotion in the manner in which I am able to fulfil it.
Ever since the trip has been planned, I must have asked over a hundred people about the trek to the shrine and have come up with over hundred varied answers regarding the same. There are the youngsters who tell me that they just run up and hence are able to cover the distance in little over an hour. This version, much as I would love to believe, I know is next to impossible for someone of my age and disposition. Then there are others who have told me that it is not as difficult as it is made out to be and can be done with considerable ease. There are also some who have told me that it is hard and hence should be taken with extreme caution. Seeing my physical appearance, people have even questioned me on my wish to trek my way up. The other option I have is to use a palanquin. Although there is a possibility that as a last resort I may have to use that service, I will nevertheless begin my pilgrimage on foot like the thousands of devotees who do it all the time.
I get some kind of solace when I am told of how people with serious physical disabilities have taken the journey on foot. They attribute these unbelievable stories to sheer perseverance and implicit faith. Somehow extreme perseverance has never been my forte and thus I feel incapacited in that regard. However my prayers are that my faith will make up where and when my perseverance fails. I have no clue as to what is in store; however I have decided that I will take each step of the pilgrimage in the manner in which it comes. Having said that, I will be lying to myself if I say that I am not apprehensive. Considering the importance of the Shrine and the difficulty of the trip, there is no way in which I can take this pilgrimage lightly. Whenever I think of the journey, I end up with a total blank for I do not know as to where I stand as far as the performance goes.
There are I feel a couple of things in my favour and the one thing that stands topmost is the fact that I walked up Thirumala, which is also an exercise in perseverance. But then this was something I did eleven years ago and although mentally I am as young, I cannot say the same about my physical state. I wonder if the same pair of legs that took me up Thirumala will now be able to take me up Sabarimala?? I hope and pray that my legs will not let me down. The second and the most important thing that is in my favour, is my faith in the Lord. I have felt his invisible presence so many times. I always feel that he has heard my prayers and has never failed to open my eyes to solutions.
Next week I begin my journey in total submission to the Lord, however this will still not put to rest the feeling of trepidation that goes on in my mind. How I wish I could master that anxiety, but then if I am able to do that, I would have moved into another league.
PS. You will definitely hear from me once I return from the pilgrimage.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
My Age Meter
The day I turned fifty, a couple of my friends came home in the morning to wish me. They were both younger to me by months and hence were anxiously awaiting their golden birthday. One of them wanted to know if I felt old on having reached the Golden Age. I was kind of surprised for in my scheme of things, the modern fifty was equivalent to the thirty of yore. Not bothering to explain that logic, which is there for all the readers of my blog to read, I just told them that the one measure I use to calculate my age is my staircase. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t live on the 10th floor of a skyscraper that does not have a lift. I live in a two storey home where my bedroom is on the first floor. There are precisely nineteen steps to climb and even between these steps there are two landings. When that is the case, there is no reason for me to use the stairs as an yard stick for calculating my age as it is not at all an Herculean task. But the meter quotient is in the way in which I climb. I literally run up and down the stairs. My father who is invariably watching the television in the downstairs hall, hears the thud thud noise made by my feet and there is never a day when he does not comment on the same. He feels that the way in which I charge up and down, could bring about an accident. Thus my reply to my friends when elaborated went like this – the day I can’t climb the stairs, the way I always do, then that day on I would consider myself old.
It has been almost three years since that day and I am happy to say that I still climb or rather shall I say, charge up the stairs. With a bedroom and some other interests on the first floor and most of the mundane happenings on the ground floor, it is inevitable that the said stairs have to be manipulated atleast a dozen times in a day. There have been times when I must have done it more than a couple of dozen times. Every step in that flight of stairs is by heart to me and I know exactly as to the depth of each one of them. This mostly comes in handy during Vishu kanni, when I have to go down the stairs with my eyes closed and enter the pooja room to light the lamp. The staircase is so well embedded in my brain that I can reel off all its features including the number of steps to each landing like the back of my hand. Come to think of it, the staircase is the most used passage in the house as far as I am concerned.
There are innumerable reasons that makes the trips upstairs mandatory and of them all the least important happens to be the fact that my bedroom is situated there. The first and what was the foremost was the fact that I am the youngest adult in the house. I may have reached the golden age but that does not apply in my household where it is my duty to go up and look for things or fetch things which I have placed. Over the years I have trained Narayani and at times I get her to do these chores. Then there is this one household appliance which only I operate and this unfortunately has found a place on the first floor. So everytime a load of clothes have to be washed, I need to make a couple of trips. Then there are ofcourse the innumerable documents which are there for safe keeping and whenever they are required, yours truly has to charge up.
But what really made the trips to the first floor more frequent and enjoyable was the installation of the computer. Initially in 1999 when the computer was bought, it was the excitement of receiving emails and this made me go up atleast three or four times a day to check out if anyone in the whole wide world had anything important or silly to convey to me. Then I started getting smarter and began instant messaging to family and friends. Having them all over the world, I had to make frequent trips in order to catch up with their time zones. I was really excited that I could chat instantaneously with my sisters, cousins and host of friends at the same time. The fact that I learnt typing in my younger days helped me to maneouvre the keyboard of the computer with ease and thus I could manage upto three windows at a given point of time. Thus, almost every hour saw me come up to see as to who was out there for me to exchange news with. The final impetus with regard to the computer which made me increase my charge upstairs was when I started to maintain a blog. Anytime an idea came to my mind, I had to put it in print least I forgot the chain of thought. Kumar seeing my involvement with my writing, thought that it would be convenient if I had a laptop and thus got me one during the middle of last year. The laptop is fine as long as it is the IM, audio or video chat. However for writing my articles, nothing can replace my desktop which has a permanent place on the first floor. The quietness that the first floor offers helps me to think and I consider that corner a sacred one.
Thus the staircase is not only a passage, but it also provides an escape route from the all prevalent hustle and bustle that is “Sowparnika”. The nineteen steps opens the door to a totally serene environment centred mostly around my desktop PC and my sviwel chair. Topics for my blog just flash in my minds eye whenever I am seated there and it seems as if Godess Saraswati has her all pervading presence concentrated in this corner.
With writing having become a passion, there is no doubt that I would like to write as long as I can and this would definitely involve the climb upstairs. The best way I would like to do that is to charge, and thus remain young as far as my biological age goes. As for my mental age, I consider myself to be in my prime what with my writing and sudoku taking care of it.
P.S. If ever I feel that the charge is turning into a trot, I try to do whatever it takes to retain my favoured gait.
It has been almost three years since that day and I am happy to say that I still climb or rather shall I say, charge up the stairs. With a bedroom and some other interests on the first floor and most of the mundane happenings on the ground floor, it is inevitable that the said stairs have to be manipulated atleast a dozen times in a day. There have been times when I must have done it more than a couple of dozen times. Every step in that flight of stairs is by heart to me and I know exactly as to the depth of each one of them. This mostly comes in handy during Vishu kanni, when I have to go down the stairs with my eyes closed and enter the pooja room to light the lamp. The staircase is so well embedded in my brain that I can reel off all its features including the number of steps to each landing like the back of my hand. Come to think of it, the staircase is the most used passage in the house as far as I am concerned.
There are innumerable reasons that makes the trips upstairs mandatory and of them all the least important happens to be the fact that my bedroom is situated there. The first and what was the foremost was the fact that I am the youngest adult in the house. I may have reached the golden age but that does not apply in my household where it is my duty to go up and look for things or fetch things which I have placed. Over the years I have trained Narayani and at times I get her to do these chores. Then there is this one household appliance which only I operate and this unfortunately has found a place on the first floor. So everytime a load of clothes have to be washed, I need to make a couple of trips. Then there are ofcourse the innumerable documents which are there for safe keeping and whenever they are required, yours truly has to charge up.
But what really made the trips to the first floor more frequent and enjoyable was the installation of the computer. Initially in 1999 when the computer was bought, it was the excitement of receiving emails and this made me go up atleast three or four times a day to check out if anyone in the whole wide world had anything important or silly to convey to me. Then I started getting smarter and began instant messaging to family and friends. Having them all over the world, I had to make frequent trips in order to catch up with their time zones. I was really excited that I could chat instantaneously with my sisters, cousins and host of friends at the same time. The fact that I learnt typing in my younger days helped me to maneouvre the keyboard of the computer with ease and thus I could manage upto three windows at a given point of time. Thus, almost every hour saw me come up to see as to who was out there for me to exchange news with. The final impetus with regard to the computer which made me increase my charge upstairs was when I started to maintain a blog. Anytime an idea came to my mind, I had to put it in print least I forgot the chain of thought. Kumar seeing my involvement with my writing, thought that it would be convenient if I had a laptop and thus got me one during the middle of last year. The laptop is fine as long as it is the IM, audio or video chat. However for writing my articles, nothing can replace my desktop which has a permanent place on the first floor. The quietness that the first floor offers helps me to think and I consider that corner a sacred one.
Thus the staircase is not only a passage, but it also provides an escape route from the all prevalent hustle and bustle that is “Sowparnika”. The nineteen steps opens the door to a totally serene environment centred mostly around my desktop PC and my sviwel chair. Topics for my blog just flash in my minds eye whenever I am seated there and it seems as if Godess Saraswati has her all pervading presence concentrated in this corner.
With writing having become a passion, there is no doubt that I would like to write as long as I can and this would definitely involve the climb upstairs. The best way I would like to do that is to charge, and thus remain young as far as my biological age goes. As for my mental age, I consider myself to be in my prime what with my writing and sudoku taking care of it.
P.S. If ever I feel that the charge is turning into a trot, I try to do whatever it takes to retain my favoured gait.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Paradise Isle
(This is a travelogue I wrote of a trip to Sri Lanka and was published in our Rotary Newsletter)
The seed was sown in the beginning of the Rotary year, however it bore fruit only in mid November when the members of the Rotary Club of Madras Midtown, finalised the plans for the first International outstation trip to our neighbouring Sri Lanka. It was decided that the trip would be from the the 4th of December to the 7th of December.
Thus the morning of the 4th saw the group which included Rotarians, Anns and Annettes and a couple of close friends assemble at the Anna International Airport at 4.30a.m. After the customary check in and immigration formalities we proceeded to the departure lounge and it was not long before the men turned left and did a thorough study of the Duty Free Shops and came out loaded with their favourite intoxicants. The group then boarded the Air India Express flight at 7.45a.m. and within an hour landed at the Bandaranaike International Airport, Colombo.
The ride to Bentota which is 111 kilometres from the airport was an experience in itself. Club Bentota, the resort has the advantage of a wonderful location. It has the river on one side and the sea on the other. After a very traditional welcome the group dispersed to their assigned rooms with the orders from the President to meet for lunch at the fixed time. Lunch was a buffet service as was all the other meals. The restaurant which faced the river provided the perfect ambience for a relaxed meal. Having eaten to our hearts content, some of the group decided to take a siesta, whereas the others went on to explore the various facilities the place provided. The annettes, I must say had the best time ever. They were seen running all over the place, playing tennis, table tennis, beach volleyball and some were even trying their hands at billiards.
Towards early evening most of us moved to the beach and the next couple of hours until sunset, it was a wonderful interaction with sun, sand and surf. The waters played the perfect host and every member had a wonderful time enveloped by it. The enthusiasm and the energy levels of the members were so high that after sunset the session with water continued in the pool where there was a heated game of water polo. With local liquor, soft drinks and some short eats being part of the deal, there was no end to its flow. A glass seemed the favourite companion of both the men and the kids. Dinner saw another wonderful spread and following this there was entertainment in the form of a live band playing. A couple of Hindi songs were sung in honour of our group. I must say that the evening was indeed a treat and could not have got more perfect. What with the balmy breeze and almost a perfect moon, the wonderful music and good company one could not have asked for more. Once the DJ came on, the youngsters of the group took to the floor and shook more than their legs.
Day two started with a bang for the main activity of the morning was the water sports. The children went crazy seeing the Banana Boats and the Water Scooters. However this activity brought out the child in every adult. No one wanted to be left behind and thus all of us took part in both or atleast one of the activities. There were some mishaps/torpedoes both accidental and intentional and this I must say just added to the fun. The rest of the morning saw the men involved in flexing their biceps trying all kinds of combinations including the local toddy. The ladies had their own fun and the kids had a spirit which was indomitable. The feeling was one of happiness all round. I am sure everyone must have wished how wonderful it would be if we had such breaks at regular intervals. There was a repeat of our tryst with the sea, however on the second day the duration was longer and the experimenting more. The entertainment that evening was a laser show and the highlight of it was the participation of Gayatri, daughter of Rtn. Karthik, as a mermaid in the finale. The dancing that evening was really vigourous and the song that literally stole the show was our very own “Manmadha Rasa”.
The next morning the bags were packed and with a heavy heart we all left the Paradise Isle. The second part of our trip was a night at Colombo and thus we checked in at Hotel Galadari. This hotel is situated on the water front and thus has a beautiful view. After lunch we went on a sightseeing cum shopping trip. With most of the members interested in the latter, the sightseeing was cut short. However we did visit a Buddhist temple and did get to see the places of interest. The highlight was the visit to the House of Fashion. Seeing the enthusiasm of the group I was reminded of the English idiom, “Bull in a China Shop”. I am glad that the same enthusiasm was not displayed at the first store we visited for then we would have had to pay heavily for the damages that would have incurred. The store in question was the beautiful Noritake showroom. The evening saw the group involved in various activities. Some of the adults trooped into the disco at the hotel, others continued with their elbow exercise however it was the children who had their agenda planned out. They got together in one room and there was no doubt that they had a whale of a time.
All good things must come to an end and thus on the 7th morning the one thing that went through everyone’s mind was the question as to why the holiday should finish this quickly. The Kingfisher flight to Chennai was at 3.30p.m. and hence around noon we left for the airport. The good byes at the Chennai Airport were never ending. The consensus was that this was a holiday to be remembered and cherished. Although most of the group have visited places more exotic, the fun and good times enjoyed during this short break stood way above.
I thank the President for entrusting me with this travelogue, for it has given me the opportunity to relive those four enchanting days. I know that I have not done justice to whatever I experienced and enjoyed during my break. But then there is only so much that one can put on paper. The rest is something personal for the participant to relish and treasure.
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