The Yellow Chair!

One of my earliest memories is from the time when I was in nursery or probably in playschool. I will have to verify that from mom. I do not have an elephant's memory, but it is one of the weird little things, I just remember from that young an age. As a kid at that age, the little knowledge and recognition of colors I had, it was the color yellow that I liked very much. Everyday, mom would drop me at the school. I remember it being a decent sized room. It might actually be very small in reality, but my memory is that of a 3 year old, when everything seemed big. A sweet burly woman was our caretaker or teacher, which again I will have to verify, but, she was there to take care of us, teach us and help us learn while playing along the way. The room had lots of toys. Toys in shape of different vehicles, different lego kind of toys to build something and large plastic air filled balls to kick around. And then, it had, a little close to the wall on one side, a line of small wooden chairs for us to sit on. They were in all different colors. I remember blue, red, white and yellow chairs. Rest, either I have forgot or was too young to know or recognize. Whenever we were asked to sit, I bolted towards the yellow chair in the middle. For some reason, I remember, there was only one yellow chair. I remember red chairs which were more than one, blue were also more than one and probably white was also only one. Every time we had to sit, I had to take the yellow chair. Some days if I couldn't, it almost brought me to tears. One day, I even pushed one guy who was a little ahead of me in the dash to the chairs, so that I could take that chair. Even after the school got over, I used to hang on to the yellow chair. When my mom eventually used to appear at the door, to take me back home, I used to drag that chair with me to the door and plead my mom to take the chair too, with us. Every day, I was cajoled or bribed or tricked or scolded to leave the chair where it belonged. That itself, became my first failure in life, not to be able to take the chair home. That, also was the first thing I ever really wanted, except of course, apart from chocolates and a long car, which followed in the list.
Over a period of time, in my life, I forgot about it. Only sometimes, when some stories were told, I used to remember it again. But the urge to sit on a yellow chair, when I see one, is still there. Only then it flashes back now.
Up till my school, in my studies, I had a couple of downs, some really bad ones, but otherwise, it was pretty much great. Then I went to college. There, where most of us actually grow up, I saw that life was not always hunky dory. With respect to academics, I knew much more than most of the students, but the university type system showed me the first glimpses of actual life. Sometimes, no matter how much you try and are actually deserving, things do not come to you. I knew more than most. In fact, sometimes taught half the class on some subjects but I never scored as well as I wanted, It was still good, but the marks seemed to be random number generated. Even in subjects of science and subjects like maths etc, where the solution is precise, either you get it or you don't, even in those subjects, when I knew everything and wrote everything, I scored less than the people who wrote stories in sheets and extra sheets of answer booklets. Somehow the concept of science was lost on the paper checkers. That is when I realized, that no matter how much study or I don't, I would get approximately the same marks. And that was exactly what happened. That was the first time I felt, things going against me even when I tried and deserved better. But that gave me an important lesson too. Same happened in the case of landing up with a job. Ultimately, I got the best of offers and the most in my batch but it came painfully late. Then I learnt one more thing. Things do not happen instantly. For me, they take a bit of time.
But the effect of all this and then being in a boring job afterwards, was that, I lost some of the self belief. After a little more time, I wondered, whether I still had the competitive edge. I used to be counted among the best, but was not sure if I was any better at that time.
Then few things on the personal front happened. Along with it, came the aim of cracking the CAT exam. I believed that I could do it but had narrowly failed on one occasion and got royally screwed on another because of a silly mistake. After that, the time and circumstances were such that I had to do something to prove to myself and few others that I was not dumb now, and that I still had it in me. I needed it more for myself, although, it did not hurt to prove it to few others as well.
I remember the day, when it finally happened. I felt like punching the air like Virat Kohli does these days. I was with a friend when I got the results and the first thing that I spoke was "I am not dumb." I could not speak any more any further.
Then I went to the campus. I was given a room and took the keys. I took my luggage to my room and opened the door. It was a rather spacious room, with one bed along the wall, one large table at the other end, a rack in the wall, a wardrobe and just in front of the table was bright yellow chair in all its beauty and glory. The moment my eyes fell on it, everything flashed again. I left everything and went and sat on it with my legs on the table. I wondered "It was here that I was supposed to find the yellow chair. I could have never guessed it" Oddly enough, it was an exhilarating feeling. Before I even brought my luggage in the room, I sat on it for good 10 minutes. Finally, I had my yellow chair.
There are many things that the yellow chair can even symbolize. I felt, if I hadn't remembered that obsession with the yellow chair from childhood, I wouldn't have got it. Even if I had, I wouldn't have appreciated it. So, if you keep working on, and always have it in the back of your mind, sooner or later it would come.
I am no celebrity, or guru or a motivational speaker. But I can tell you, everyone has that yellow chair in mind from childhood. Most forget it completely. But if we don't, somewhere, someplace in some for or other, the yellow chair will come to you or call you to it. For me, it was not only about that chair and that event. I need more yellow chairs. Best is to keep seeking that yellow chair again and again and again. 

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How I got Leh'd

Of all the things I ever wanted to do, motorbike trip to Leh was one of the highest on the list. Over the years, after I started working, due to the ever entangling professional life, frustrations, so called lack of time, logistics and financial issues, this item on to-do list was far from realization. In the mean time after 4 years of working I even dared and had the audacity to jump into student life once again for my MBA, which, apart from few other things, chewed up my two years, at the end of which I was only richer by an over-hyped degree. Only consolation was endless, and night after night, of night cricket in the campus. 2014, however, turned out to be a little different.
One day, just sitting in my professional of 2x2 feet which some people happen to call a cubicle, it just came back to me that I had to do this. Well, at-least before I am too old for it, or before BRO makes all the roads in the area and going there becomes easy or before Pakistan manages to disturb or worse capture the area. Very exaggerated thoughts I know but nevertheless, these thoughts came. And this time I was hell bent to go. Till the last few days, however, I did not have any company. Even though I was keen on doing it alone even if no one joined me but, it was tough convincing my family and loved ones that I would go alone. A week before, one of my very good friends however decided to join me and we were definitely up and running. So without beating around the bush any more, I would cut down to the trip.
After all the planning, research, equipment arrangements and travelling to Manali from Delhi on bike, we were finally about to begin 'The Dream Ride'. The morning we had to start, we woke up really early to start our ride. By the time we had our luggage and gear all mounted on the bike, the sun had started to rise. Even as simple a thing as sunrise was surreal in those surroundings. As the sun's first rays started streaming down, I felt that they not just spreading light and warmth on earth, but seemed to gradually fill every particle of my heart with joy and light. I am a morning hater. If it were to me I would abolish the concept the mornings. There is not a single day in my normal routine life when I do not simply abhor mornings. But, this was totally different and celestial.
We ultimately started off and began cruising on the initial, good, winding roads, soaking up all the scenes and views as we rode ahead. After about 45 mins we had to stop to adjust the luggage on my friend's bike as he felt it was not balanced properly. After we adjusted the luggage, we started again stopping every now and then, to admire the beauty of the landscape. Although time was a concern but, in the surroundings, we lost track of everything and it just felt we were in trance and were driven by intuition and heart. We stopped frequently and took breaks liberally. I was also enjoying riding on the almost empty, winding roads. There is something about winding roads that I simply love. No where else I get so much pleasure in riding as I do on winding hilly roads. Many people have many quotes about mountains and I would like to share my own. "Curves are sexy. Be it on a woman, or on mountain roads."
Negotiating turns and cruising through, we reached a relatively flat expanse of land with eatery stalls and took another break to have maggi and tea. This was just before the dreaded Rohtang Pass. It was when we entered the stretch that we realized how hellish just that stretch of the ride would be. But surely there was no going back. The way to heaven was through hell. So be it. We were determined to brave it out little by little.
As we were steadily conquering every turn one by one, on of the slopes, a lorry stopped in front of me just before a narrow stony turn. I stopped behind him and then suddenly the lorry reversed. No amount of honking or the sound of the lorry crashing in the bike, could stop it, till it actually run over my bike. I didn't remember exactly when, but I had got off the bike in time. My friend had gone a little ahead when he stopped and came back. We gave an exemplary tongue lashing to the driver and his companion. The bike's left handle was almost bent at 60 degrees towards the front, the left footrest had been broken and the right mask of the bike was decimated. We ordered the lorry guys to come with us till Keylong, our next stop, where he would get the bike repaired. The problem however was to drive it to Keylong which was still 55 kms away with an unnaturally bent handle and no foot rest. Somehow, I tried to get the hang of the new posture and angles that I was now forced to ride in, and after a couple of turns got used to it. It put a lot of strain on my body though.
Negotiating slush, stony path and hair pins with that bent handle was in itself a feat for me. I was concentrating hard to keep the wheel straight with bent handle and the whole stretch was a blur.
We reached Koksar where road was blocked as a bridge was getting repaired by the army. We had to idle away close to two and half hours before the block cleared and we moved ahead once again.
A little later we decided to stop and talk to the lorry guys. They also said that, we take some money, as they coming with us would waste time for all of us. After a bit of haggling we let them go and proceeded ahead towards Keylong.
On reaching Keylong, we scourged the whole town to find a mechanic who could do something about the handle and footrest for us to be able to continue ahead the next day. After trying to find something in every nook and corner of the town it started dawning on me that we might not be able to continue ahead with the bike in that condition. We might have to head back to get it fixed and then see what we could do. It was a frustrating and depressing time. We were totally spent, emotionally and physically. While talking to a friend, I almost choked when I was recounting everything with the possibility that we might not be able to complete the trip. My friend advised me not to lose heart and if we needed to go back then we should, get the bike fixed and come back again, even if that meant that we would just touch Leh and come back.
Aditya and I, discussed at length about the plan next day. After long deliberation, with an extremely heavy heart we decided to head back. Even though I had slept only 5 hours the day before and ridden all day, still sleep eluded me. I managed to get just a couple of hours of sleep. Come morning, our hearts again felt heavy that we had to go back. Deeply depressed, we packed our bags and checked out. As if sensing our turmoil, the hotel guy asked us and we told him the whole story. He then offered us that, he would keep the broken bike in his hotel's garage and we could, and should, go ahead on one good bike that we still had. It was a tough decision that I had to take. Take the risk of leaving my friend's bike in the hotel or risk not completing the trip. The hotel guy assured us that he will charge a nominal rent and would take care of the bike. At last, I decided to keep the bike in the hotel. With subdued excitement, we rearranged our luggage and left half of the luggage in the hotel itself in order to keep the load on one bike as low as possible. Finally, we both left the hotel on the Enfield my friend had rented and moved ahead on one bike.
It was depressing to leave my bike behind but, it was good that we were still going ahead towards Leh. As soon as we got out of Keylong town, the vistas that were presented to us were overwhelming. It was tough to believe that we were actually looking at those sights. No doubt, the land is called a paradise, where Gods reside. Slowly and gradually we kept moving towards Sarchu. On the way to Sarchu, we had to conquer the mighty Baralacha pass. By the time we reached its peak, Acute Mountain Sickness had taken hold of me. I was having severe headache and felt like puking. Nevertheless, we still enjoyed spending some time at Baralacha top before starting ahead. For the first time we saw snow covered peaks very close to us. We said prayers at the top, piled up some stones to make a wish (as was the local custom) and carried on. We had a light lunch after descending from Baralacha. Sarchu was within reach from that point.
The roads deteriorated from that point on. We braved the back breaking, jumpy roads and carried on. All through that stretch, the pillion rider, which happened to me for that stretch, was more in the air than on the seat. We even joked about carrying a parachute with us, as sometimes the person sitting pillion almost attained standing position because of the jumps and jerks and there was a possibility that in one those jumps, the pillion might just take off.
Close to Sarchu, the roads became better and I was just counting minutes before we reached a camp and I could attend to my headache and rest. I was in no state to do anything else. I just put some balm on my head, took a medicine and dozed off only to wake up next morning.
The next morning, my headache was gone and I felt filled with new enthusiasm for the trip. We got a bit delayed in starting from Sarchu. This was to be our final leg of the journey, destination being Leh. We had around 250 kms to cover that day. We started and stopped for our lunch break at Pang. Pang is the highest army transit camp in the world, rising to over 4000 mts. We had lunch, which was nothing more than maggi and thukpa. We carried on, and before long, reached the famous Morey Plains. Plains at a height of approx 4100 mts. The sights were scintillating and the roads awesome. We took multiple breaks, clicked pics and zoomed through those straight roads which were in great condition, except for being unevenly up and down in some patches. We started the ascent to Tanglang La Pass. Till now, we had not experienced anything like real cold weather. Just two kms before reaching the top, however, suddenly the weather was chilly with freezing strong winds blowing across. Our hands, feet and face were numb from the cold by the time we covered the last two kms to the top. Just when we thought it could not get chillier, we were proved wrong by the mighty Tanglang La. Tanglang La is known for its unpredictable weather changes. One moment it would be sunny and pleasant, the next moment, depending on the direction of winds, it would become cold and would even sometimes start to snow. We braved the cold and stayed at the top for some time, clicking pictures. It was a surreal experience being there. It really did feel that we were very close to the abode of Gods. And then, we found snow on the side of the roads. We played with snow before we could no longer bear the cold and moved ahead to quickly descend from the freezing weather. We were well equipped to bear the cold but not well enough to tackle freezing temperatures. We kept descending till we reached Rumtse, where we stopped to have warm tea standing in the sun. It was getting towards evening and we figured that we would reach Leh only after sun down. It became important for us to take minimal breaks after that, so as to cover as much distance as possible before sunset. After sometime we reached Upshi, a small town, the last before Leh. Leh was just 50-60 kms from Upshi. We took a short break and proceeded towards Leh. It became completely dark when we were about 25 kms from Leh. The darkness, narrow hilly roads, slowed us down, but, slowly and steadily we kept inching ahead. At last we entered the town and started our search for a hotel. We decided that since all these days we have been staying frugally, we would take a reasonably expensive hotel to stay. We ultimately found one and booked ourselves a room.
It was spontaneous, genuine happiness, that we started jumping, cheering and congratulating each other on completing one half of the trip. It had been an amazing ride, though, with more than minor setback at one point, but we had reached, where he had set out for. We celebrated like kids for a while before freshening up and ordering food.
While taking bath,  I felt I was washing off at least few kgs of dirt and dust from my body and felt incredibly lighter after the bath.
We had an early dinner and ventured out to checkout the market and parts of town which we could cover on foot. After a long walk which lasted around two and half hours, we came back to our room and slept. Our body clocks had for sure been better aligned by this time. It was more in tune with the normal sleeping times like normal people.
The next day, we learnt that Leh was closed down because of some protests over Chinese incursions close to the Border region. No vehicles were allowed to ply on roads. All shops were shut. We were only allowed to roam around on foot. We decided to explore as much as we could on foot. We also learnt that Leh palace was still open for visitors. The palace was on top of a small hill. We walked to the base and then trekked up to the palace. The view of Leh from the palace was mesmerizing. We took our time and saw the palace. After coming out, we just stayed for a while at the top, relishing the views and the weather. Then we headed back down, to go to our hotel. We had lunch and rested for a while.
In the evening some shops started opening, so we checked out the market and bought some Pashmina scarfs for friends and family. We did not find any bike shops open, so we could not get any handle for my broken bike we had left back in Keylong. Unfortunately, that meant, that we wont be able to go to Pangong Lake. We would go to Khardung La the next day and the day after would head back, as we needed time to get the bike fixed in Manali or beyond Manali.
The next morning, we started with looking for handle for my broken bike. But being a Sunday, everything was closed. We somehow found a mechanic shop but he did not have any spares. So, we got our Enfield checked up. Around noon, we started the ascent to Khardung La, world's highest motorable road.
It was pleasantly warm and sunny in Leh when we had begun the ascent to Khardung La. It was 39 kms from Leh. The road was narrow but in good condition. For most of the 25 kms, we did not encounter bad roads or anything else which we could call bad. The views just kept getting better and better. We saw yaks on the way. Cherubic, adorable children playing on the roads and running away as soon as they saw a vehicle coming. We also got a challenge from a kid, who was probably 7 years old, on his small bicycle. He shouted and challenged us to race with him with all the aggression and bad ass look that a 7 year old can muster. We had no intention of being embarrassed by a 7 year old kid on a bicycle, so we just waved bye to him  and moved on. We had entered the not so good roads and the speed with which we were moving, it would not have been any surprise if the kid had won the challenge. Nevertheless, we saved ourselves a bit of shame and embarrassment and continued climbing up.  It was when we were around 10 kms away from K-Top, that we started feeling the chill. Suddenly the air had become cold and it was getting colder and colder as we moved ahead. We were wearing a normal jacket as far as warm clothing was concerned. Our riding gloves were airy so they did not help even a bit. We kept looking at the distance boards every now and then. We wanted to reach the top as quickly as possible so that we could put our hands in the pocket for a while. This was the second time on the trip that we experienced real cold. When I say real cold, it means it was really cold. For me, I like cold and grew up in colder climate. I have an above average capacity to withstand cold. But this was not just above average. It was cold for me too. Our hands were numb and had started hurting because of the cold. We felt that by the time we reached the top, we would have to cut off some of the fingers. The cold was bearable if we stopped and just stood. Driving made the cold feel worse. Slowly and gradually, freezing ourselves, we reached the K-Top.
The experience was inexplicable. There was snow on the cliffs and stones, at the top. It was not just specks or flakes of snow, but substantial, calf deep snow. It really felt being on top of the world. As with all the passes, there was a place of worship at the top. We climbed the small cliff full with snow and prayed. By road, we cannot reach any closer to God than at K-Top. We hoped our prayers would reach faster to God. We played with snow and clicked pics. There was also a small canteen which was serving tea and pakodas. We ate to our fill and the cold forced us to have 3 cups of tea. After spending about 30 mins, we decided to head back to Leh.
It was an uneventful journey back, till our hotel. We had lunch and rested. In the evening we roamed around in the market and had dinner. Back at the room. we started planning our journey back to Manali.
We started discussing with a somewhat improbable idea. We were tried to figure out, if we could make to Keylong from Leh, the next day itself. It was 365 kms and the terrain, as we had seen doesn't let you go more than 150-200 kms comfortably in the whole day. Driving at night was inadvisable and dangerous. But the plus point was, that we knew the roads, as we had come the same way and knew where the roads were good and where bad. The first stretch from Leh to Pang was mostly good, so that could be covered quickly if we were not liberal with breaks. Then the last part before Keylong was mostly good. So even if we had to drive at night a little bit before reaching Keylong, it could be done. But the bad parts which included crossing the streams, had to be covered before sunset. Also, while coming, we were not that used to riding the Enfield and consequently our average speed was even lower than average. We saw, that if we took lesser breaks, of shorter durations and took the same time to cover the distance as we had while coming, then, it would take us about 16 hours at max. We decided to leave Leh at 4:30 am the next to give us as much time possible in daylight. We also estimated that, since by now, we were more used to riding the Enfield, we should take about 14 hours to cover the distance.
We loaded the heavy luggage on the bike in the night itself, to save some time in the morning. We however got a little delayed and were able to start at 5:30 am.
We had hardly covered couple of kms when we felt we would freeze because of the cold. In all our planning, we missed out one tiny little detail. The small fact that it could be so freezing cold in the morning. In day time, temperatures in Leh were nothing like unbearable. Sun used to be out bright and shiny. Couple of times, I even went out without any jacket etc. But I forgot, that in places like these, the nights and early mornings are an altogether a different demon. Ignoring that little piece of information would now make us pay. All our clothing was packed in the big bag which we had now firmly tied to the bike. Opening it and then again mounting it on the bike, plus the break, would have meant wasting at least half an hour to forty-five minutes. We decided to brave on. After fifteen minutes, even the legs had started freezing. We were beginning to lose senses in our knees as well. After half an hour or so of these grueling times, we could take no more and stopped. We rubbed ourselves everywhere we could, in an attempt to get the blood flow going again and warm us. It was only of little help. But, the break had helped because were we not facing the wind while we were still. While riding, however it was bone chilling. We jumped around a bit to warm ourselves and then started again. Sunrise was not far away now. A little shortly after, we could see the sun rise, but we were again out of luck, if I can say that. The sun had risen but that did not help us because, the roads were flanked by mountains on both sides. So sun's rays could not reach us yet. They were all eaten up by the peaks of these smaller mountains. Realizing, that we had no other option but to cross this stretch as soon as possible. We recalled from where the ground would clear up so that the mountains are not so close on both sides. It was still more than 25 kms away. Not only our jaws, but we felt even our bones were clattering when we finally crossed that stretch and the sunlight graced us on the ground in all its glory. Very rarely, had I ever felt so relieved by going in bright warm sunlight. So much for liking cold weather. We almost brain froze. We stopped at the first point where we saw sunlight touching the ground. Luckily, there was also a street shop. We literally downed multiple cups of tea and even warmed ourselves on the stove in their kitchen. The shop aunty was kind enough to allow us to do so. We were enjoying the sun and the warmth of the tea when suddenly people started shouting. Then my friend got up and ran. It was then I saw, that another lorry had reversed without looking and banged into our bike. He stopped just in time because the people shouted, so there was no serious damage to the bike. The mud guard was bent but it snapped back in position when I pulled it. Thankfully for the other people, we were still good to go. It was amazing that our bike was hit in this manner for second time. For the first time I saw lorry drivers just reversing, without another guy coming down and guiding them. In all my 18 years of riding bikes and that too in the mountains, I had never seen lorry drivers do that and that too in hilly roads. We gave the driver an earful  and let him go. One good thing in all this was, that we were pretty much warmed up now. And with the sunlight now with us, we started feeling warmer than we would have liked. We continued. When we had planned our journey the day before, we had put cut off times for each of the places where we could stay. If for whatever reasons we missed the cut off time for a place, especially Sarchu, we would have to put up there for the night. For Pang this cut off time was 11:30 am. For Sarchu it was, 2:30 pm.
We reached Pang at 11;00 am. Little before Pang I had taken over to ride. We had a hurried maggi lunch cum breakfast and within 20 minutes were on the road again. We had to make it to Sarchu before 2:30 pm if we had to proceed towards Keylong. After 2:30 pm, there was a chance that we might have to negotiate bad roads and streams in the dark, if we continued. We did not want to do that. Plus, the cold would again play a major part after sunset. The stretch from Pang to Sarchu was one of the worst. Since we had an Enfield and were now very used to riding it, I thought to make use of it. While coming on the same stretch, our speeds were in the range of 15-25 km/hr. While going back, I thought, that this bike was immune to bad roads as long as there were no ditches on the roads, so there was no point in slowing down to 15-20 km/hr speeds. Given the roads, I can say, I gunned it at 45 km/hr. Now, here is the thing, in normal circumstances, 45 km/hr is snail pace for me. But, there, with the Enfield, it really was gunning down. My friend had to bear most of the brunt of it, as he hardly sat on his seat while we were going through that stretch. He just kept getting bounced again and again throughout that stretch. We did not stop much on that stretch, maybe a couple of times and made it to Sarchu exactly at 2:30 pm. We had planned to take a break there, but we now decided to just keep moving, to cover as much ground as possible in sunlight. By 5:30 pm we crossed Darchu. The worst of the bad roads were over. We had also crossed the streams while it was still light. We would now make it to Keylong. At around 6pm it started getting dark. When it got dark, I drove. And slowly and steadily started eating up the distance between us and Keylong. By 7:30 pm, finally, we reached Keylong. It was a record of sorts to do that distance, in one day, in that terrain. We had ridden for 14 hours. We took a room and I checked up on my friend's bike which we had left there. The bike was there and it started too. We felt relieved that we wont have to buy a new bike for my friend and only had to get it repaired. We ate dinner and dozed off.
Next morning, we left for Manali. I was back again on the bike with the bent handle. It sapped almost everything out of me for those 110 kms. My left wrist and back were crying out because of the posture I had to sit in due to the bent handle. Somehow I made it through the devilish Rohtang pass and were in striking distance of Manali.
Before Manali, the handle in my bike actually came off. Now we had to get it fixed, or transport the bike to Delhi. We had stopped at a mechanic workshop but he gave up that he could not do anything as he did not have the handle. He asked us to go a showroom which was 17 kms from Manali. We raced there but, they too did not have any spare parts. We came back. I took the bike, put the clutch in my lap drove it few kms like that to reach the shop from where we had rented the other bike. When we had talked to him, he had said to bring our bike there and maybe his mechanic would be able to do some temporary fix for us to be able to reach Delhi. We reached the shop. The mechanic there had a look and assured us that he will somehow fix the handle. We could get it replaced in Delhi as there, there were more chances of finding spares.
We checked into a hotel, and celebrated. We had done the Manali-Leh trip. Though frustrating for the bike incident, but except that, it was the most amazing trip ever that I have been to. Today, if someone asks me, where would I like to go again, Paris, Rio (Both these places I have been to and know about them) or bike trip to Leh, I would say, if I had the option of choosing only one, I would choose this bike trip.
Next day my bike was reasonably fixed so we returned the rented bike. Then we came back to the hotel, ate lunch, packed our bags and left for Chandigarh. This final part of the journey was not eventful. Normal roads, normal traffic and thankfully no untoward incident. I dropped my friend at Chandigarh Airport and proceeded towards Delhi.
It was an amazing, out of body experience. Even weeks after I had come back to Bangalore, I had dreams of riding through that route. It is one of those things which you cannot explain. Even photographs do no do justice. Even photographs cannot capture enough. On top that, the pleasure of riding. Someone has rightly said "Driving in a car is like watching a movie. Riding on a bike is like starring in it."
A trip of a lifetime. A trip that got me Leh'd, no pun intended. And, in my opinion, everyone should get Leh'd at least once in his lifetime. For me, I would plan one more, some other time, for to get Leh'd just once, is not enough ;).

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Old? Or, not yet!

I am officially 31 years old now. In a way, I have officially put one foot in the old age. At least as per the world, this age is not that young and for most, this time signifies the beginning of mid life crisis. But, why don't I actually feel that the prime youthful days are over? Sometimes, I still feel like a kid. Hell, sometimes I even behave like one. I still do not think that being practical all the time is a virtue. Instead, it is an impediment. People often say, grow up, be realistic, be practical and what not. But I still do not want to be any of those most of the time. There is something which Will Smith said in an interview and resonated word to word with me. He said "Being realistic is the most common path to mediocrity." I feel, that is terribly true. By any stretch of imagination, I am not saying that I am not mediocre. I am just an average guy who is growing older, or let me say wiser, rather than old, to keep myself in denial. But, if everyone were realistic, do you think man would have invented airplanes, or gone to the moon? Would the Tatas and the Ambanis have dreamt of creating such huge businesses. Would Sachin Tendulkar have ever thought of playing at international level at 16 years of age? These are but the extremes. I have another example from my and my family's very normal and average lives. Never in his whole life, my father would have thought about owning a house in Mumbai, if he had been realistic. It simply was out of reach. The time he had booked that flat, he did not have any disposable savings, because both his sons were studying and within couple of years, both would be in college, which we all know how expensive it can be. But, my mother pushed him to book the flat and to figure out rest later. He shed his realistic outlook and went ahead. Result, he now owns a flat in Mumbai. No matter how small or modest it is, it is still a huge deal for a middle class man in government service. So, if I, without being very realistic and practical, so as to say, am still an average guy, imagine what I would become if I became realistic and practical. I won't even be able to do half the things I am able to do currently, and I am not ready to live that life. Yes, I am unrealistic, impractical, impulsive in many things. I do things if my heart says yes to and not because the mind says so. I do not over analyze things if I have to even buy something. If I can buy something and I like it, I just buy it. No analysis, or comparisons, whatsoever.
So that brings me again to the point, why I do not feel old. At least, not yet. Things which I loved as a kid, I still love them. I have not grown out of any of those things. Not in 31 years. Even the simplest of things. My mother told me once that, even as a three year old, when she used to take me out in the evenings for a stroll in the colony campus, the moment I saw the big boys playing cricket, I would stand right bang in the middle of the pitch and create a scene about playing. I would not budge till one of the boys made me hold a bat and helped me hit a few balls. Even today, if I know I would get to play, anywhere, anytime, where I can reach, I will leave everything and be there. And I have. I have missed doctor's appointments, parties, trips, classes and many other things if they happened to clash with a sure shot match I was supposed to play in.
I loved, pure chocolate since as far back as I can remember. Pure means, not mixed with anything, no nuts, no fruits no nothing but chocolate. I like dry fruits separately, but I hate it when they are put in chocolates. I hate it to my core, and I hated it even as a kid. Even today, I do not shy away from filling a bowl with chocolate pieces and relishing them slowly, just like I did as a kid. Similarly with milk. I loved milk pure, not mixed with anything else, and that is how it is even today. Even after experiencing so many different forms and flavors of milk, I truly love only pure milk, hot or cold, with just sugar.
One of the other very silly things was, I loved to eat raw bournvita out of a bowl. Not mixed with milk. I still love it and still eat it almost every alternate day. Same with jam. I can, and many times, still eat jam with a spoon out of the bottle.
My earliest memory is that of me being sent to nursery class. There were chairs of different colors for the kids there. I loved and only sat on a particular yellow chair. After the class time ended, and mom would come to pick me up, I would hold that chair and ask her to take the chair with us. Even today, if I see a yellow chair, I need to sit on it. Yellow chair still has a special place in my heart and I do not think that to be stupid. At least not yet.
I always thought, people are supposed to grow out of these things when they 'grow up'. So, although I am becoming old, I do not feel that yet.
I am not married, do not have couple of kids, haven't traveled the world, still am unsatisfied with the kind of job I am doing and want to do more. All in all, still not settled. It is not that I do not want to get married or am deliberately not getting married. I want to and want to experience that life too but few complications (which, by the way, are not because of me or created by me) are delaying that.  I want to see, why, especially the guys, crib about getting married. Some crib jokingly but some seriously about how different it becomes and why they cannot do certain things and how they are not completely free anymore etc etc. Well, if you think that is tough, try being unmarried at 31 and stay in India, where, sometimes the sole aim of living seems to be to get married and have kids. For people, their parents and everyone in the so called society. At this age, you wont have any single/unmarried friends left who can join you on trips or for going out just to have fun if you want to. They have a family, and rightly so, plan accordingly. Then you cannot join them. Trust me, it is not a happy or good feeling to be a lone single person among a group of families, even if they do not feel awkward and totally welcoming, you yourself will not feel good. You cannot go on guy trips, because there aren't any guys left, all have become family men.
I can be realistic and just go ahead and marry anyone, have a 'life' and 'family'. But, I cannot. Simply because I cannot get married to anyone else except to the one I want to. What parents and others do not understand is, if I have not grown out the very simple and stupid things of childhood, how can I be expected to grow out of a person I love. And since I know that, I know that if I become realistic, it won't be much of a 'life' for me.
So, I refuse to be old already. I recall a song "18 till I die". The number in my age will increment at its own pace, but from within, I would still be "18 and going on 55" as one line in the song says.
So I took this opportunity for the first time to wish MYSELF a happy birthday too and am happy to be growing wiser, not older yet, only wiser.

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