My Near-Miss Experience

It was barely a few days ago that Rishie, who joined my current workplace around the same time I did, told me that she had almost missed her flight last week. Well, today even I almost did.

Scheduled to depart at 2205, I left office at 1830 hoping to catch the airport shuttle that passes by the bus stand near my office. Since the Bangalore Airport is approx. 40 kms from the city and it costs a bomb to get there in a taxi, I thought I can try and take a cheaper alternative.

The bus time table said the bus passes by at around 1845 but till 1900, there was no sign of it and I was getting restless. As a contingency, I thought I would book an Uber from there itself in case the bus is late. My phone showed all 5 bars and the 3G sign but the Uber or Ola app did not connect. That, would be the first sign I might miss the flight.

By 1915, when finally, after switching my phone off and on a couple of times, I finally got through to book an Uber, I was not allowed to since my eWallet balance could not cover the bomb that was needed to be shelled out for an airport cab. After a couple more attempts of trying other modes of payment, when I was finally allowed to book one, the shiny green bus with the sign KIAS-12 caught my sight. I let out a sigh of relief and boarded the bus.

My luggage stowed away and my ticket bought, I dialed Lily's number. Just this morning, Lily had jokingly made me believe that her roommate had missed her flight. An hour later, we found out that she actually did miss her flight, which incidentally, was also run by IndiGO. And now, as she picked up the phone, the first thing she uttered, 'Did you miss your flight too'? There, the second sign.

After what seemed like eternity, the bus finally pulled into the perimeter of the airport at 2105. I have witnessed how people have 'mastered' the skill of reaching on time and not having to sit and sulk around waiting for the boarding to start. So I thought, hey, I am kind of a frequent flyer now, so I should try and get this skill under my seat-belt. So I decided to eat something before I went inside the airport.

First stop, Kappi Shop - Had some filter coffee and got a masala peanut bun packed for when I am in-flight

Next Stop, Chai Point - Mulled over the fact if I should have some banana cake. Hmmmm, nah

Up next, Kaathi Shop - Took my sweet time deciding what to order. Then finally ordered a batata wada roll with an extra layer of omelette in a whole wheat paratha

By the time I paid and was waiting in queue to take my roll, the clock showed 2120. Damn, I am cutting it really close today. I hope I don’t miss my flight. FYI, sign number three

Busy chatting with a customer who was praising his paratha swiveling skills, I got even more delayed. At 2225 I decided that I really have to choose between my flight or the roll. So I cursed the guy in my head and made a dash towards the entry gates.

There are these times when you are in a hurry and everywhere you go, the person right in front of you is the laziest person alive? Today I was in the pillion seat. Another 5 minutes later, running here and there to find the check-in counters for my flight, I slipped from under the IndiGO lane ropes directly to the counter asking for a savior to come to my aid or else, I will miss my flight.

The guy at the counter was very helpful but also, equally regretful as he explained how he could not do anything. The counters had closed and there was no way I could board this flight now. The best alternative was to get on the next available flight by shelling out the difference in fair of the two. But wait, another obstacle awaits. The next flight was in 6 hours. With a sad face and thinking how Lily's prophecy had come true yet again, I dragged myself to the reservation counters.

Thanks to Rishie, who had gotten out of a similar jam a few days back by pleading with an administrator to print her boarding pass, I tried to do the same. The lady at reservations heard me, rapidly pressed some keys on the keyboard and told me to rush to the counter again and collect my pass as she had bypassed security and checked in for me. I don’t remember her face nor did I read her name, else I would have thanked her on my return to Bangalore and even mentioned her name in the flight experience feedback.

Boarding pass and two luggage bags in hand (could not check in luggage as well), I dashed towards the security gates. Again skipping under the ropes and shouting, 'I am going to miss my flight, please let me through', I reached the front of the line. I have always hated such people you know. They know they must reach the airport well in advance but still drag their royal asses barely minutes before take-off.

Today, the hater had become the hated. I was in quite a hurry but, the guard scanning me was in a jolly mood. He wondered if he could scan my barcode tattoo, asked me why exactly did I have that on my forearm and if that was 'the thing' these days. Wishing that barcode gave me an all clear passage right to the boarding gates, I smiled in accordance, collected my belongings and now, dashed to the boarding gates.

Against the all-so-mighty prophecy that I would not get air-borne tonight, I reached Gate #8, calmed self, sat down to give some respite to my shaking legs and boarded my flight as one of the last few passengers. Furthermore, to my benefit, I had been assigned the XL extra leg-room seat next to the emergency exits. Some silver lining :D

All's well that ends well right? I am tired and famished as I write this post on my blog, after such a long time, all the while, wishing I had taken waited for that kaathi roll :/

A Trip Down Cambridge's Lanes

It is 1 am in the morning on Saturday and for once, I have the next two days work-free. After a hearty Friday night dinner with my colleagues, I am lying in bed thinking what am I gonna do the next 48 hours. Such days happen to come by quite rarely when you are onsite but when they do, it is absolutely vital that you make the most of them.

I just realize that a friend of mine, Nicky is in London that week. So I randomly text her and enquire about her weekend plans. Since she’s in town for only a fortnight, maybe she would have something on the agenda. And she most certainly did. She had planned to visit Cambridge with some of her colleagues. She cordially invited me to go along and after a couple of minutes of diddle-daddle, I agreed. We were supposed to meet at the Canary Wharf DLR station at 10AM and then take it from there.

With my chai latte in hand I met Nicky and we set off towards King’s Cross station to catch the hour long train to Cambridge. As we were in the tube, I realized, albeit a little late, that none of her colleagues had come along and to speak of colleagues, I hadn’t told mine about my plans either. They were asleep when I made the plan and I had snuck out before they’d woken up.

Nicky and I met in high school. She’s a year younger to me, hails from Mohali and currently lives in Gurgaon where she’s working with one of the Big 4 accounting firms. It’s incredible how we live merely 10KM away in Gurgaon but were meeting after almost 1 year, 10 thousand miles away in London.

Soon we were on the Great Northern Rail speeding towards Cambridge. That is when I checked in on Facebook, notifying everyone, including my still asleep colleagues that I was going away for the day.

We disembarked on the platform and before starting our tour of the city, desperately hunted for a good place to eat as both of us hadn’t eaten a thing. We roamed around nomadically for a mile or two, searching for a good restaurant on Zomato and finally ended up at Novi.

An ultra-modern setting fused with an ‘earthy’ furnished look, it seemed like a good place for us to break our fast, plus, our table had a good view of the street so we were sold.

With the hunger pangs out of the way, our exploration commenced, one college, one museum and one avenue at a time.

First up were the Fitzwilliam museum and just across from there, the ‘Judge Business School’, which looked more like an overgrown kids’ play den than an MBA college.

These 2 took most of our afternoon. We were in no mood to eat anything but did fancy some afternoon tea and the best place for that, ‘Fitzbillies’, an iconic century old bakery/café was there for the pickings. With tea and lemon cakes and chocolate éclairs in our bellies, we resumed our tour. We roamed around as the hot afternoon sun alternated with dense clouds and every 15 minutes, a tiny hint of rain.

Our sunglasses were on, jackets ready and umbrellas open as we walked through cobbled streets and reached King’s college. The overarching giant of an estate, its towers were a thing of absolute beauty. The structure was so huge and spread out that wanting to see the whole spectacle we had to go around the whole block, taking us almost an hour to cover.

To rest our legs for a while, we sat down at the side of the river in front of Trinity College and saw people row rafts in the water which the Brits call ‘punting’. We sat there for I don’t remember how long and reminisced about a decade ago when we were still teenagers. If I had a memory pensieve filled up with my most treasured memories, most of them would be from the time when I was in high school and going down that path again, about what we used to do, wear and act like, was really wonderful.

As the sun began to set, we chanced upon Church of St. Mary the Great, a centrally located parish church. It was inside the church that defined the moment of the day for the both of us.

The choir was at a rehearsal session at the head of the Church and even without an instrument, it sounded just what I presume would sound like in heaven, if heaven were to exist at all. Sitting there, frozen into our seats listening to all the notes, the Soprano, Alto, Tenor and Bass, it was truly mesmerizing.

For some evening nibbles, we retired to La Tasca, a Spanish Tapas restaurant where we could hardly finish one single platter of chicken wings but downed two full pitchers of Sangria. Outside, we also saw the infamous singing binman.

A bit buzzed, we roamed around, soaking in the city as we came across, ‘The Fountain Inn’, a small pub where we picked up two pints of Guinness and walked up a small hill just opposite the pub, to sit and drink s’more.

From the hill, we could see the whole city and in the daylight even at 9PM, we had the full view of what our day had been spent around. Dark beer laden bottles in our hands, we sat down, brooding and reflecting. With a semi-loud clink, we put our bottles together and cheered to I do not remember what. Gulping down the beverage, we stayed there for half an hour looking over the architectural beauty that is Cambridge.

Soon enough we reached the bottom of the bottle and the hill. Picking up a box of nachos, caught the last train towards London (Aboard which, with no regards towards our fellow passengers, gorged on the crisps throughout the ride), fully content and glad we made this plan.

Buzzed Aboard

Sitting in seat 23E of the flight Air India AI 111 on a Sunday afternoon, I write this post en route a London (and am posting it 5 days later when I have some time on my hands to actually do that). 

Travelling on a company/client sponsored trip for a project, I don’t think I am all that excited at this moment. Well maybe when I land at LHR, it’ll be different?

As the Indian capital and almost everyone I know battles with the scorching heat, I am set to be greeted by the British capital which is currently clocking 9⁰ C. I barely have a jacket or too with me and a ‘trench coat’ or ‘umbrella’? Nope.

As I thought about taking out my laptop and putting this all out in MS Word, I had a can of Heineken in my hand, the 2^nd of the 2 can alcohol quota that can be served to a passenger on board I presume. I am buzzed aboard this flight, in a middle seat between one of my colleagues on the left and an aged woman on my right, frequently peeking at a spectacles clad, skinny cute girl with shoulder length hair sitting in 22K who, after a little recon, seems to be working with ZS Associates, a Sales & Marketing 

consulting firm I guess.

With Eminem blasting through my headphones, this is the only time I think I’d get to write something up that is totally unrelated to the project I am travel to London for. Literally swamped with work, we’ve been notified that neither do we have weekends anymore, just 7 day long weeks till this engagement comes to a close by mid-July nor can we hope to go sightseeing in London for the first few weeks.

Oh well. It is what it is. Being the over planner that I am, when we expect the workload to simmer down a bit, I plan to apply for a Schengen visa and visit Paris, followed by Geneva, Florence, Barcelona, Nice, Strasbourg and the likes. Ummm, too much? Well, I’ll try to check boxes against at least 3-4 of those cities.

Visiting Paris has been a dream since after my friends and I got ourselves enrolled at Alliance Française. La Ville Lumière. Oh la la. Well, now it’ll just be an English Channel and a EuroStar ride away. I’d also gotten though an Assistantship program sponsored by the French Education Ministry where I would’ve lived and worked with a primary school in Western France for a period of 7 months starting this October. 

Oh it would’ve been so amazing. I would’ve come back totally ripped (assuming I would’ve eaten healthy and worked out regularly which I highly doubt), with fluent spoken French and a very unique sort of experience on my resume. But as always, ambition, career growth and future B-School probabilities came into the equation and took ‘Mon Reve Parisien’ away.

If not 7 months or 7 weeks or even 7 days, one thing I would love to achieve on this trip is to spend at least 1 full friggin day in Paris, strolling around on Champs Elysees singing ‘Oh, Champs Elysees, hugging Eiffel Tower so tight my ribs would come close to cracking, sitting in a roadside café with cobbled pavement and sip hot coffee, having French baguette and some wine in a park, taking a boat ride in the Seine and of course, showing off my semi-fluent but very rusty French skills in front of my colleagues.

So till the time I achieve this objective and write a follow-up post describing every ounce of my week long Eurotrip in super minute details in July (over planning at its peak over here), I’ll try and get back to work I need to finish on the plane, the reason why I cramped my already cramped cattle class leg space by keeping my laptop bag under my seat and not in the above compartment.

Jusqu’a la …. Au revoir!

Fix You

When you try your best but you don't succeed. 

When you get what you want and not what you need. 

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep. Stuck in reverse....

If you're a Coldplay fan, you would know this song even before you got through the first line. With the keyboard playing in the background and Martin crooning in his trademark pitch, I could listen to this song all day long.

Specially after finding out for whom this song was written. In case you didn't know (and aren't a Chris Martin follower like me), he wrote this song for Gwyneth Paltrow after her dad passed away.

When the tears come streaming down your face.

When you lose something you can't replace. 

When you love someone but it goes to waste. Could it be worse ...

This is my favorite Coldplay song but it wasn't the first one I'd heard. Actually, I don't even know which was my first Coldplay song.

It was one of those late nights at office when almost everyone has left for the day but one unfortunate team is busy making final touches to the deliverable and trying to meet their 'EOD' deadline.

Since no one was there to object, my manager back then, PG started playing this song on his phone out loud. Only a few seconds into the song, I got reeled in. So I asked, "What band is that?". PG looked at me with an expression that you might get when someone asked you, "What does water taste like?"

As if it should've been obvious, he told me that it was Coldplay. Okay, so I was intrigued enough to check it out.

Lights will guide you home. 

And ignite your bones. 

And I will try and fix you.

The first Coldplay song I heard was 'The Scientist', followed by 'Yellow' and other hits like 'Viva La Vida', 'Atlas', 'Fix You', & 'Paradise'.

So yes. Fix You is my favorite song by this band. I've recently been told that guys usually like this one but not the girls. They don't want a 'Guy' to fix you. They're capable of doing that, along with anything else a guy can do.

High up above or down below. 

When you're too in love to let it go. 

But if you never try, you'll never know. 

Just what you're worth.

Anyhoo, these are my 2 random cents worth of thought on this song.

Tears stream down your face when you lose something you cannot replace. 

Tears stream down your face I promise you I will learn from my mistakes. 

Tears stream from your face .....

Lights will guide you home. 

And ignite your bones. 

And I will try ... And fix you ...

Lullaby

'I would wrap you in angels, just to keep you safe. 

I would walk to the Sun, just to hold you close. 

While the world breaks your heart, I'll be here for the fall. 

Though the days might betray you, know that I never will.'

This the very first paragraph from the song 'Lullaby', one of the only 3 songs that "Martyrs & Poets" released before disbanding.

I do have the other and more popular 'Replay' in my playlist, but this one strikes closer to home, I don't exactly know why. I'm not exactly what you would call a romantic so that's not it. Maybe it's the situation in which I heard this song for the first time, that it kinda stayed with me.

It was during the last few scenes of an episode from 'Criminal Minds' when Jason Gideon (Mandy Patinkin) reconnects with his son after ages.

This phenomenon,  when we associate a certain song/tune to a past memory, real or imaginative or to a certain sense/emotion/situation, is known as a 'Song - Memory Association'. The same way our olfactory system associates a certain odor, good or bad with a certain person, activity or memory.

Anyways, enough with the scientific gyaan. What I wanted to jot down here in this post is what I associate this specific song to.

It was the summer of 2013, the month of July to be more specific when I met this girl I got infatuated to. Right around the time I heard and got fixated to this song. I'm not sure if she fits into the song well or if she needs to be cushioned from the problems of the world and all the stuff that Nate Picard wishes for his muse in this song but as I associate this song with her, I do wanna wrap her in Angels. Whenever I listen to this song, I can remember her sitting across me in a striped salmon - colored shirt, the same color that I was also coincidentally wearing.

'So take all your faith

Be more than I ever will

Lullaby Baby

Lullaby Baby I'll keep you here

While the world might break you, be strong in your will

And Trade all your scars for love

And be wreckless with love

Be more than your father

Don't betray all your hope because love conquers all

I would wrap you in angels, just to keep you safe'

It's not just this song. There are a variety of songs that remind of situations frozen in time. Linkin Park's 'In the End' sends me back to my boarding school days when I heard it on a collector's album called 'Progressive', for the very first time, on the shiny new stereo that our housemaster had so graciously installed in the dormitory. This was also the first song, the lyrics of which I had learnt by heart.

The first song on Side A of the cassette was 'In the End', followed by 'This is How You Remind Me' by Nickelback. We would always listen to these two and then rewind the cassette to the beginning. Until we bought LP's albums and started fixating on 'Numb', 'Breaking the Habit', 'Points of Authority' and other hits. So a week back in the gym when my iPod played 'In the End' and 'How you Remind Me' one after the other, it was enthralling what I experienced next. Using Hiro Nakamura's powers (TV Show - Heroes), I was teleported back in time, when I was 14 and standing in awe, in front of the wooden box that held the stereo.

My playlist has evolved over the years as I'm sure everyone else's also must have but these songs, like lullabies sung to my subconscious mind, are etched into my memory not only in the form of tunes and lyrics but vivid and living memories.

Mission Kashmir

I'm writing about my 6 day trip to Kashmir which I undertook with my friends a few months back. I know it has been quite a while but the memories of that place are afresh as if it was just yesterday.

I had the good fortune of visiting Kashmir in the end of July, a few months before the catastrophe that struck the true heaven on earth. For long, our band of 4 - Hussey, Maggie, Prince Little and I were planning a trip which never seemed to materialise. One day Hussey (A Kargil native) and Prince Little, who's a hotshot expat working in a multi-million dollar corporation in Doha, put their foot down and coerced us into making plans to explore Kashmir and so, we made arrangements to make that happen.

Day 1 - SRINAGAR

We arrived in Srinagar Friday morning in two different flights (I'd tried to book tickets through "promotional offers" and got the last available ticket that a dirt cheap flight while the the others booked the next cheap flight). At least, I was spared from Prince Little's obsession with clouds as he snapped uncountable and virtually indifferent shots from the window seat).



The tiresome travels of the day - an early morning flight, delayed a couple o'hours, followed by an hour long cab ride to the Houseboat that we had reserved for the day didn't muffle our enthusiasm to go dive headfirst into the beauty that is Kashmir.

We dropped our bags, picked up Tandoori rolls and Shawarmas from a nearby joint and hopped on to yet another cab to reach the infamous Dal Lake. It was still July but instead of any monsoon rain, we were midst a cool breeze mixed up with a pinch of heat from the sun in a clear sky as we walked by the lakeside, facing the mountains, often called upon by the parked Shikara owners.

We finally gave in to their constant bickering and took one around the lake, stopping at cloth shops and small huts on the way and capturing yet again, numerous snapshots of the day.

Next up, our guides Hussey and his cousin, Parwana, took us up to the Mughal Gardens, claiming to show us the best ever sunset point there is.

After spending hours on end on the edge of the stone garden wall, sipping freezing mountain mineral water and munching chips, we finally witnessed the ethereal beauty of the setting sun, clearly the highlight of our first day.

With an authentic Wazwani feast and some bedtime poker, we bid adieu to Day 1, settling into our beds inside the ever rocking cradle that was our houseboat on Lake Nageen.

Day 2 - KARGIL

We barely got 5-6 hours of sleep that night. Hussey and Prince Little were fast asleep but a rooster and a dog owned by the houseboat woman woke up me & Maggie at 4 am. If my stomach hadn't been full of Wazwani chicken, I would've broken my fast on this one.

Complaining and grumping, we got ready for a 6 hour long journey to Kargil, where Hussey was born and brought up.

The cab ride was quite comfortable and the sights outside the window were worth staying awake and snapping the camera button for. Moreover, the cab driver's stereo had but one cassette that played only a handful of songs. "Ai jaate hue lamhon" from the Border, a classic war movie that recounts the 1971 Indo-Pak war, kept playing as we soaked in the serenity of the mountains and coincidentally, keep seeing army camps here and there.

Soon enough we reached Hussey's abode. We entered the 3-storied home built upon a small hill and the first thing we saw on passing the house gate was a small garden in the front lawn, with a giant apricot tree in the centre. We entered the house, put our luggage down and slumped on the comfy couch while Hussey went to meet his family.

Except Hussey, all of us hail from New Delhi and nearby areas and it was the first time we were meeting his next to kin. They understand only a bit of Hindi but they were really warm and welcoming, as everyone from that region is.

Our breakfast was a mere Frooti and Uncle Chips (courtesy our Prince, who's on a diet these days) and by the look of the food that was set in front of us, we were really glad we had totally empty stomachs. 

Chicken and Rajma, served with rice. Seems a pretty normal lunch menu but only the people there can tell you how amazing it was. Chicken is a delicacy eaten the Punjabi way or Halaal but I presumed there was only one way to make Rajma. I was so very wrong.

Everyone says it's the mountain water that gives it that irresistible taste but whatever it was, we barely looked at the chicken and devoured the rajma as if it was our last day on earth.

Next up, we got into Hussey's hatchback and went around Kargil. He recounted stories of his childhood and the various small wars that found their way to into their lives.

We spent the rest of the evening by a rivulet, sitting, throwing stones and talking. Me and Prince Little even got our shoes off and dipped our feet into the ice cold water just for the heck of it. I don't really remember what made us make a wager as to who can keep their feet in the water longer, or who actually won that bet but throughout the way back to Hussey's place, we couldn't feel anything from below the knees.

Day 3 - LEH

Early next morning we packed up and carried onwards. Another 6-8 hours to Leh but this time in Hussey's hatchback. Only a few minutes on the road and Hussey started where he left off with his stories of Kargil and Leh, how him and his cousins used to go on these routes on bikes and more important and intriguing for all of us, how he met his betrothed and future wife.

We made quite a few pit stops on the way, gazing at sublime scenery, watching rivulets trickle down to meet rivers but the most amount of time we spent was testing the theory at Magnetic Hill (that your automobile, even switched off, will drift onwards) which, even after trying a dozen times, didn't seem to hold true.

We reached Leh, freshened up and took a detour from our planned path to a village ~20 hours from Leh, known as SECMOL.

SECMOL - Students' Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh, is an organisation founded in 1988 aimed at reforming the educational system of Ladakh, by a group of young Ladakhis returning from university who understood the problems of the younger generation with modern education, their lack of focus and the cultural confusion. The brainchild of Mr. Sonam Wangchuk, the main campus building at SECMOL was inaugurated by His Holiness, The Dalai Lama himself in 1998.

Their activities include working to reform the government school system, helping village students in their education, awakening youth to the problems stemming from inappropriate and insensitive schooling, producing related videos and radio programmes, and designing and building solar-heated eco-friendly buildings.

Hussey's elder brother, a volunteer at SECMOL gave us a tour of the place, told us how the institute worked, how it is almost fully self-sustained. Almost everything is produced in-house, everything is recycled and reused, non-recyclable stuff is discouraged (chewing gum is banned) and whatever they can't make, is bought by selling apricot jam made by the volunteers and the students.

We also met the various teachers living on campus, most of them foreigners and the 20-30 young British girls who had just finished High School and were there for a 2 month volunteer program.

Day 4 - PANGONG TSO

Another early morning rise and addressing basic oral hygiene later, we were back on the road for the last and most exciting leg of our trip, PANGONG TSO. The infamous lake where the water is calm, serene and different shades of blue, green and purple at the same time. 

Pangong Tso is in disputed territory. The Line of Actual Control passes through the lake. A section of the lake approximately 20 km east from the Line of Actual Control is controlled by China but claimed by India. The eastern end of the lake is in Tibet and is not claimed by India. The western end of the lake is disputed between Pakistan and India as a part of the Kashmir dispute. After the mid-19th century, Pangong Tso was at the southern end of the so-called Johnson Line, an early attempt at demarcation between India and China in the Aksai Chin region.

The route from Leh wasn't exactly uphill but a mix of sub-stretches going up and down. Pangong is in a valley and only 30% of the lake exists in India while the rest of it behind the Chinese border. In the years that have passed, global warming and human intervention has led to evaporation and destruction of a major portion of this beautiful water body and it won't be long when it will become extinct and we would have mere photos to show our kids and grandkids that we had been there.

Trying to keep future worries out of my mind, we drove on. It was a cool summer morning with the sun shining bright. However, on our way when we reached the highest altitude of 17,590 at ChangLa where we got chilled to our bones but passed through numerous valleys as well where we were greeted with Kashmiri Kahwa which was the best I had ever tasted. Prince Little as always, had try something new, which, in this region, was Yak milk. You would have to ask him personally how it tasted coz after having a few sips, he barely talked the rest of the way.

Our patience was wearing thin as we inched closer to Pangong and the moment of first sight, we literally jumped out as if we had found Santa. Oh the joy on our faces. The rest of the day passed by admiring the serene view of the lake from different angles and views. We drove onwards till the point the car could take us and onwards still, on foot.

After walking for an hour we reached a portion of the lake that was entirely uninhabited. No human or fauna could be seen, except us and the rare duck on the lake. We clicked an infinite number of photos trying to capture the scene from every angle possible, lit up a Cuban cigar (although with the breeze flowing, we could hardly light it up). We floated a paper boat into the lake which, hopefully, would have crossed the Chinese border by now and etched our initials into the sand before heading back to LEH for a night's rest.

Day 5 and 6 - SRINAGAR & NEW DELHI

Our trip was almost over. Next morning we headed back to Kargil. Reaching there around 4PM, we stretched our legs for a few hours before catching a bus back to Srinagar.

Hussey stayed back at home to spend a few more days while Prince Little, Maggie and I bid our adieu and boarded our ride that would reach Srinagar early morn, just in time for us to board our 7AM flight to New Delhi.

As we touched down in the hot and humid capital, I vowed to return. To see the lake again, when it would be frozen solid in winters and also, to run the Ladakh half marathon that takes place every year in the month of September.

Till then, these photos might suffice ...

I'll feel better when the winter's gone ...

The fire, it cracks and the flakes snow on. November was white and December was gray. Well, someday soon when the spring brings the sun, I'll finally sleep, I'll finally ... I'll feel better when the winter's gone.

These three months I've been inside the house, my pacing has worn all of the carpet out. Just give me a breeze, the rebirth of the life. I'll finally pine, I'll finally ... I'll feel better when the winter's gone.

These are the lyrics from a song by 'Say Hi' but they convey the message I want to, as I sit huddled up in my quilt on this chilly Saturday of the Indian winters in the month of December. Agreed that it doesn't get as cold here as it does in the countries way up in the Northern Hemisphere, such as the U.S. or Canada but hey, I recently heard that on the coldest day of the year in Delhi last week, the temperature at noon was lower compared to the temperature in the morning in NYC or Simla.

Furthermore, it 'feels' colder here as we don't use central heating in the houses and have to rely on electric heaters, heating pads and layers of clothing to keep from shivering.

On the 12th of December, my brother got hitched. At 4am in the morning as we sat witnessing the agnipradakshinam rituals, I wondered how, even in mid-December, it was barely cold. Instead of listening to any prayers I might have offered up to that day of my life, the All Mighty heard me criticising this once. The very next morning, a storm rose up and for the coming 3 days, pelted rain and hail over the North. Voila, the winter that I was 'missing' was literally knocking at my door and striking against my bedroom window.

I hope it never gets as cold in the North in this country as it is in the North of Canada and of Westeros but I might be able to see, before I die, a day when it will snow in Delhi. On that day, as pollution particles join forces with snow balls, I'll sit in my room with coffee in my hands and say what I'm saying right now ...

I'll feel better when the winter's gone...