Paragliding in the Himalayas

I bet you all must be pitying me about my sad plight living in Bihar and now in Haridwar. But Haridwar seems to be pretty darn good. Well except for the fact that there is no Non-vegetarian food (Not even eggs) available for a radius of about 8km and there are no PYTs roaming around (Pretty young things – for all the ignorant). I live in the wilderness in the industrial belt in a place called Ranipur in Haridwar.

This weekend was a 2-day holiday for me. One of course was the usual Sunday and the other was the Mahatma’s birthday that fortunately fell on a Monday (Bless his soul) giving me a 2-day weekend. (No Saturdays are not off J ) So we decided to take off higher up north into the Himalayas. You would have to forgive my childish excitement as this was the first time I was touring this part of our great motherland. We hit the road at about 9 am on Sunday and headed out towards Dehradhun. That is about 50 km from where I am. Nothing great about that. The next stop was at a place called Mussoorie Jheel – a modest 2000 m (6500ft) above sea level I think. Here there is an artificial lake with paddle boats. Not too exciting.

But what caught my attention was a faded board that said "Paragliding". The board looked really ancient and I wondered whether they were still in operation. Well I told me colleagues that I would check it out and return. They volunteered to come and cheer me on. J So we walked down the narrow part in the mountains and saw this huge parachute strung out over the cliff. It was so on! Going towards the edge I saw that there was a small artificial platform where there was this girl strapped to the parachute and an instructor, both waiting for the wind. My heart was hammering as I looked over the cliff into nothingness below.

Well I then paid up and stood for my turn. A strong gust of wind took them over the cliff the parachute blossoming above and a heart thumping, breath stopping ride all the way down. As soon as they were back, it was my turn. I could hardly hear what my colleagues were saying because of the blood thumping in my ears blotting out all the sound. The harness was fitted over me and I clamped the helmet over my head. The sound of the thumping grew louder.

I waited for the wind.

As I looked back over my shoulder past my instructor, I saw a faded advertisement for a popular cola; the tagline – "Life ho tho aisi". Seriously man!!
I was suddenly very helplessly pulled off my feet and backward. Looking up I saw the orange and white parachute blooming over me. The instructor was yelling at me to run. I picked up my feet and (sorry for the cliché) ran like the wind J without a second thought. Closer towards the end of the cliff. It was so darn crazy!

When all of a sudden… there was silence… and nothing below me.

We were airborne. There was a lovely feeling of floating over the air. I could see the people below like ants. I was flying. I noticed the mountains in the distance and around me. The sky was azure and wind gentle. The valley sloped away smoothly into the horizon.
As we got closer to the ground, the wind dropped a little. I felt as though I was in a free fall when the chute caught the air again. There was this loud roaring sound as we so closer towards the ground. The instructor was giving me a landing lesson mid air as we were about to touch down!! I touched down in a perfect 10 landing J What an awesome high!

White water rafting seems to be next… Watch this space!

Monghyr - Bihar (Current home)

MUNGER

District Profile

Munger district is located in the southern part of Bihar and its headquarters are located on the southern bank of river Ganges. The district is spread over 1419.7 Sq. km accounting for 3.3% of the area of Bihar. It lies between 24022 N and 25030 N latitude and 85030 E to 8703 E longitude. From administrative and development point of view, Munger is divided into three subdivisions namely Munger, Kharagpur and Tarapur. There are nine developmental blocks namely Munger, Bariarpur, Jamalpur, Dharahara, Kharagpur, Tetia Bambar, Tarapur, Asarganj and Sangrampur. There are about 903 villages in the district. The Munger district on an average is 30 to 65 mts above sea level. The average annual rainfall is 1231 mm.

The total population of the district is 11,35,499 with 8,18,913 being rural population and 3,16,586 being urban population (2001 census). The schedule caste and tribes population in the district is about 1.50 lakh and about 0.17 lakh respectively. The density of population was 583 per square Kilometres (1991 census). However, Munger district is notified as economically and industrially backward district. Agriculture forms the core sector of the district. Major income of the district is generated from agriculture, which nearly engages more than 70% of the work force. The district of Munger lies in the central plains of Bihar. In the year 1995, Jamui, Lakhisarai and Seikhpura districts were carved out of Munger district. Lakhisarai, Jamui, Khagaria and Begusarai districts surround the Munger district. The major river flowing in the district is the Ganges, which submerges large tract of land during rainy seasons. The district has hot summer and moderate winter season.

The economy of the district is characterized by agricultural activities and the main food crops grown in the area are paddy, wheat, maize, pulses and oilseeds. Horticulture crops are mango, banana, litchi, citrus, guava tomato etc. Apart from agriculture other allied activities in the district are dairy, goatry, piggery, fishery etc. From the industrial point of view, the district is characterized as backward although there is enough potential for sub- contracting/ancillarisation due to presence of railway workshop at Jamalpur & ITC in Munger.


The Munger district may be characterized as industrially backward, it is rich in minerals, natural resources, abundant being stone. Many stone crusher units are working in safiabad area and other parts of the district. Forest cover is also available due to which wood, forest product like mahua, bamboo, firewood, tendu leaves, sabai grass and katechu (katha) wood are found in abundance and activities relating to these area are undertaken.






Places of tourist interests are there in Munger. Tourism industry has got a great potential which needs to be explored. Some places of tourist interest are

a) World Yoga University; Yoga Bharti at Munger
b) Kashtaharni Ghat
c) Chandika Asthan
d) Bhim bandh
e) Rishi kund
f) Sita kund
g) Sita charan
h) Kharagpur Lake
i) Shringi Rishi
j) Pirpahar
k) Kali pahar

Nature is at its youthful best, which can be exploited for tourism. For giving boost to the tourism industry infrastructural facility requires improvement.


Special feature

· Yoga Bharti which is the world’s first Yoga university, is located in Munger, which is getting national/international fame.
· Khanqah for Islamic Studies is located in Munger.

Agro-climatic zone

With regard to agro-climatic zonal planning on the basis of agro-climatic features particularly soil type, temperature, rainfall, its variation and water resources, the district falls within the region, which can be geographically described as middle Gangetic plain. It is sub humid and has monsoon sub-tropical climate ranging from sub-dry and sub-humid conditions. There are three distinct seasons in this zone viz., summer, monsoon and winter.


Rainfall

The Rainfall under this zone is mainly influenced by the south-west monsoon which sets in the second week of June and continues up to end of September. Sometimes cyclonic rain also occurs. The rainfall distribution is marked seasonal in character. Greatly limiting water availability in certain times of the year and requiring disposal of excess water in some weeks during monsoon also occur.



SOIL
Soil of Munger district is grey to dark in colour, medium to heavy in texture, slightly to moderately alkaline reaction, cracks during summer (1 cm to more than 5cm wide and more than 50 cm deep) becomes shallow with onset of monsoon, with clay content nearly 40% to 50% throughout the profile. Slicken side along with the wedge shaped structural aggregates absorb soil are found level land or depression. Soil becomes bonding during summer and remains inundated during rains. The clay minerals found are smectities followed by hydrous mica. The soil has a good fertility status. Diara land soils are light textured and well drained with free calcium carbonate (CaCo3) that varies between 3% to 8% but seldom exceeds 10%, particularly no genetic low zone gives a coarse stratification micro relief, udic moisture regime clay. Minerals found are hydous mica, smectite, Kaonie and chloride. The nature of sediments are deposited in Diara land can be generally stated as those near the streams are coarser in texture i.e. sand which gradually becomes finer with distance a grade to heavy texture or clay in central part of the meander, these being always layers of sand at varying department which generally do not go deeper than 40 cm to 60 cm of surface deposited as a result of changing course of the current. These Diaras are either:


Islands between river streams or
The place of the abandoned Dhar in the flood plains.



DISTRICT PROFILE AT A GLANCE
(As on 31st March 2002)
1. Name of the district : Munger
2. Geographical are (Sq.km) : 1419.7 sq.km.
a) No. of blocks/talukas : 09
b) No. of villages (inhabited) : 903
c) No. of villages electrified : 506
d) No. of villages having supply
Of potable water : 860
3. Rainfall (mm) Normal : 1231
4. Agro climatic Region & zone : Middle Gangetic Plain
5. Population (As per 2001 census
a) Male : 604662
b) Female : 530837
c) Total : 1135499
d) Population density/sq.km : 583
e) Population below poverty line : 1,14,186 Families
6. Land utilizations (Give the latest available data)
a) Geographical areas (in ha.) : 136359 ha
b) Cultivable Area : 68600 ha
c) Net sown are (in ha.) : 60308 ha
d) Forest : 32375.9 ha
e) Fallow land (in ha.) : 6292 ha
f) Land not available for
cultivation (in ha.) : 6488 ha

Irrigation (in ha) :
a) Net irrigated area : 42514.5 ha
b) By canals : 20258.00 ha
c) By wells : 257.20 ha
d) By other sources (specify)
Tubewell : 6695.40
Pond : 209.50
Lift Irrigation : 7033.30
Others : 5849.10 ha
Medium Irrigation : 2212.00 ha

Animal Husbandry (As per 1982 census)
a) Plough Animals : 38238
b) Dairy Animals
Cows : 33227
Buffaloes : 20564
Pig : 4008
Calf : 10905
c) Sheep/goat : 12279/97135
d) Poultry : 48800

Specialties of Munger
1. Cigarette : Indian Tobacco Company, Munger
2. Arms (Gun : Gun Factory, Munger
3. Railway Workshop : Jamalpur, Munger
4. Yoga &yogic studies : Yogabharti, Bihar School of Yoga Munger,


Agricultural Produce

1. Katarni Rice : Kharagpur, Asarganj, Tarapur
& Sangrampur
2. Aromatic (Organic) Basmati Rice: Kharagpur, Asarganj, Tarapur,
Dharahara & Sangrampur
3. Arhar (Aromatic) : Patam, Ratanpur & Bariarpur
(Jamalpur & Bariarpur Block)
4. Betel Leaf : Patam (Jamalpur Block)
5. Maize : Diara of Munger, Jamalpur &
Bariarpur block
6. Parval (Pointed Gourd) : Tikarampur, Taufir & Binda Diara
7. Patta Plate : Kharagpur, Bariarpur, Jamalpur
& Dharahara
8. Mango (Malda) : Chauramba (Sadar Block)
9. Milk and Ghee : Diara of Munger, Jamalpur &
Bariarpur Block
10. Brinjal, Tomato & green
vegetable : Nauagarhi, Bariarpur, Hemjapur & Lagma
11. Peas & Gram : Chaur of Dharahara & Bariarpur Block


Other Products

1. Lahti (Bangle made from Lac) : Jhikuli Village, Sangrampur
2. Silver Products (Coins & Fish) : Kharagpur
3. Alumunium & Bronze Utensils : Adampur(Dasrathpur)
& Banglwa (Dharahara Block)
4. Blue Green Algae(Organic Manure) : Kamaldah, Dharahara
5. Silk & Cotton (Handloom) : Naya Chawni, Bariarpur
6. Blanket : Laxmanpur & Gulalpur
(Jamalpur block)
7. Candle (Mosquito repellent & designer) : Adhbhut Jyoti, Munger
8. Phytocare (Micro Nutrients extracted)
From waste of ITC : Shastri Nagar, Munger
9. Decorative made from Coconut shell : Munger
10. Basket (bamboo) : Kharagpur & Dharahara Block
11. Stone Chips : Safiabad & Nauagarhi


* Details collected from District Magistrate Office, Munger

My kinda drug - Mumbai!

My kinda drug - Mumbai!
Since there is so much going around about my beautiful city, I feel compelled to add my point of view too.

Mumbai is not a city.... It is a NARCOTIC! I shall tell you why...
You come to this city, a stranger from a foreign land. Any place out of Mumbai is foreign to us. No matter whether you have come in by plane, train, bus or even with a sack of clothes ties to the end of a stick, walking over the bridge at Vashi or trundling over the one at Thane. You may have even come in by boat or handcuffed in the back of a police van. No matter how you come or where you come from the moment you enter this island city you become a Mumbaikar; or a Mumbaite as some would like to call it. You don't have to wait 5 years or even 5 minutes to be called a Mumbaite and be treated like one. You already are one.

The first thing that you notice about the place is the amount of people and the speed and the synchronization at which we all move. I remember this friend of mine from Delhi, who had recently arrived in Mumbai saying "Man! Where the heck have all these people come from?" You may be amazed at the pace the city moves with as it seemingly ignores the slow you. You may feel left behind. I urge you to stand on any railway station in the morning waiting to get into a train to go to Churchgate. You are slow.... people are whizzing past you. Suddenly as the train stops, you notice the mass of humanity pouring out and then feel the surge and strength of the people getting in. You are swept off your feet and suddenly you are in the train. Not so slow now are you? Still not satisfied? But you have felt the first dose/shot of the drug. The effects are bad. The people in the train are all sticking to you and pushing you. You cannot stand it. You are nauseated. You stumble off at Churchgate and go about your business.

You wonder how you are going to manage this. This didn't seem like such a good idea after all. Or was it that you were transferred here? At night you are alone and the city is still abuzz. Trust me it never sleeps. The second day goes by... you are exhausted and frustrated by night.... Then comes the third and the forth..... it is the weekend. Well... well... a day of rest finally! You have it all wrong there. The city wakes up to a weekend of partying. So many places... so many people... as usual there is space for all. Everyone is accommodated. You are beginning to enjoy the high. It is two weeks that you are here and you are hooked on to the city. The pace of life gives you the high. The people give you the high. When you are late for work, everyone pulls you into that moving Churchgate fast. Then you realise that you are not alone. You chat and laugh with complete strangers in the train. Whatever happened to what your parents told you about not talking to strangers? All of a sudden you are not alone. You have realised that people are as friendly as anyone can be. Any part of the day or night there are people willing to lend you a patient ear. You can never be lost and more importantly you can never be alone!

There was this time I had to go someplace and didn't know how. I just asked a passerby on the street at Fountain and he said he was going the same way. Well I had a new friend for 10 mins. I have never met him since. Another time, while I was going back home from work, a friend and I got off the company bus at Bandra east. I was so annoyed at having had my sleep in the bus disturbed, but I had to go home and didn't really want to sit in the bus. This well dressed man comes up to us and asks us if we have change for a 100. I didn't but my friend did. He thanked us and told us that he would have otherwise had to pay the auto-rickshaw guy a 100 bucks for a 20 rupees journey. He asked us where we were going and it turned out that we were going the same way. So he offered us a lift in a friends car. In my sleep all I noticed was a shiny black 'big' car. I got in and promptly dozed off on the plush leather seats. I woke up when we reached and then realised that a complete stranger had given us a lift in a spanking new Mercedes. I have made many many more such friends. And I shall make many more too!

Live in the city and move with the flow to understand and I guarantee that you will be addicted. Once you are hooked on, there is no known cure or rehabilitation. But then who would want stop feeling the pulse of life in him. Feel it eating bhutta at Juhu, feel it in the splash of waves breaking over Marine drive, feel it in the people who come forward with nothing to ask back in calamities, feel it in the throb of Mumbai's lifelines... the local trains, the buses, the streets, the chai shops, the skyscrapers, the slums, the elevators, feel it everywhere. It is a city that you don't live in... it lives in you. It is the place at the end of the beanstalk that you dream about at night. It is a mess in the monsoons and oppressive in the summers - the only two distinguishable seasons made apparent by the lack of rain in the latter. It is a place where people in suits and auto rickshaw drivers dine at the same table. It is the friend about whom you wondered how you lived your life without. It is your solace when you are down and kick in the seat of your pants telling you to get up and move on. The smell might leave you holding your breath often and the speed will leave you breathless always. Feel Mumbai... it is already inside your veins. You are already addicted.

Just like the Eagles sang in 'Hotel California' "You may check out anytime you like, but you can never leave"

Bus ride in Chennai!

So what if I thought that Chennai was a bad place. I mean it is all you guys fault for telling me this... Yeah Ms. AR I ain't talking about you. You are going to have to forgive me for that ok? Ok ok that is not fair... You can't hold me to a Nalli sari.

So like I was saying... Chennai is good. Well it actually helped that you lowered my expectations so much, so when I actually came to tambi-land it was actually good. Rather is actually good. I mean the language barrier is really bad. I managed to learn to be able to speak a respectable amount of Hindi, only to come here and find out that our dark-skinned, coconut loving brethren consider Tamil to be out national language. I mean they would like it so. Something to do with the Dravidian race. I won't get into those specifics now. But that is the scene. I shudder to think that this country would miss this brilliant engineering mind (Of course I am talking about me! A shameless example of self glorification and promotion ;-) ) as I would not have passed out of school. I remember my language teacher telling my mother (in a very maharashtrian accent), "You see Mrs. G., your son is knaat making anyee ephort. With a leetle more ephort he can do whonders. See his marks in the other phaphers. (Yawn!) Maybe you can tape the lessons… now-a-days all of us that tape-player (What is she saying). Baba re… my children-s play that at a so very high bholume. (She hasn't studied any 'eengleesh'but is trying to shove this down my throat.) They are listenings to this EPH-YUM the whole day. I tell you, I go mad bhen my husbands (how many does she have!!) is not at home. (Get back to the point!) You tape the lessons and you tell him to play it in his two-in-one (yeah right and subject my whole family to 'nidradevichi's aaradhana' like they don't get enough of the stuff from her.) Or if he has the whalkmen, he can leesten to it in that (What did I ever do to her!! Considering leaving home and leaving for foreign soil here. I can imagine myself 'Huckleberry Finn'-style with my belongings in a bedsheet tied to the end of a stick walking away from a burning pyre of my language books. Yeah add 'Bad Boys' to the soundtrack)"

Coming back… (I know I digress a bit ), as degrading as this may sound to the tamilian dudes and dudettes, to me this sounds like my tongue is on a combination of Speed and Ecstasy while my lips are paralyzed and my esophagus is tied down by weights. Or the classic tin paint can with stones and you guide the conversation with a vigorous stirring of these pebbles with a wooden stick. I am trying though, (No of course not... I ain’t stirring anything in a can in front of these "Tamil tigers" - What if some bad word comes out of the can? ) but that is about all… I know that 1=ohne, 2=runde (or something…) and so on… (Well actually that is pretty much all).
I get into a bus, determined to travel cheaply. I tell the conductor 'Abhi-ra-ma-pu-ram' (of course I was reading it out of a paper. You think I would have not taken Biology just for the sake of the long words and remembered that one. No way Jose!) So he says to me “Mudal stop illai adata stop?" And I go like "Huh?" "Abhiramapuram", I say more confidently. I point to myself and repeat very slowly trying out in my best tamilian accent (I figure that adding a few uh and ahs in the word may just do the trick) So it actually comes out as "Abhi-uh-rama-ah-puram-uh" He has this exasperated look on his face and then he says " Adhu Teriyun Paityam. yende stop sollu?". I bet he is swearing at me now. So I look at him and say "ME-ABHIRAMAPURAM-GO" And at the last word I make this plane-taking-off like motion with my right hand. (I suddenly am thinking to myself that this dude isn't Chinese or eastern. Ah screw it!) I don't care" To which he replies, " Valladariya... addi konnupduen.... " People around are smiling. He bares his teeth in a 'funny' way but it looks like he is gonna take a bite out my neck. Guess he is pretty damn sure that I don’t know Tamil. I back off and just give him some money "Take it my good man but don't bite – shoot I mean…" my head is screaming. He gives me a scrap of yellow paper with noodles all over it (Yeah the writing looks like that) and the number 4.50 on it. Yeehaaw!!! I am on my way. Oh-oh! New problems… When do I get off? So I look at the shop boards which, through small mercies that I am very grateful for, have the addresses written in English. There goes Arumbakkam (that took me about half a kilometer to read, yeah roughly about 25 shops to read) I told you I was smart.

So I am standing inside the bus. The bus is divided down the middle into men's and women's zones, the latter's zone being on the left of the bus. Now the seats on that side are empty but no one is sitting down. Well as any self respecting visitor to Rome, I do as they do and not sit there. But this is defying logic. Anyways I somehow find the place and have arrived at my destination, sweating at the thought of going back by bus. Well later may room-mate tells me that had I sat down there, in all probability I would have been beaten up. So much for cosmopolitanism… here in Chennai.

Watch this space for my travails with the Rickshawwalas!

Coupling again...

Not that I am running out of ideas to write but this is kick ass!

Coupling again...

Oh, because it's got naked women in it! Look, I like naked women! I'm a bloke! I'm supposed to like them! We're born like that. We like naked women as soon as we're pulled out of one. Halfway down the birth canal we're already enjoying the view. Look, it's the four pillars of the male heterosexual psyche. We like: naked women, stockings, lesbians, and Sean Connery best as James Bond. Because that is what being a bloke is. And if you don't like it, darling, join a film collective. I want to spend the rest of my life with the woman at the end of the table here. But that does not stop me wanting to see several thousand more naked bottoms before I die. Because that's what being a bloke is. When Man invented fire, he didn't say "Hey, let's cook!" He said: "Great! Now we can see naked bottoms in the dark!" As soon as Caxton invented the printing press we were using it to make pictures of - hey! - naked bottoms. We've turned the Internet into an enormous international database of... naked bottoms. So, you see, the story of male achievement through the ages, feeble though it may have been, has been the story of our struggle to get a better look at your bottoms. Frankly, girls, I'm not so sure how insulted you really ought to be.

Coupling...

I got this from a Coupling Episode....

We are men. Throughout history we have always needed, in times of difficulty, to retreat to our caves. It so happens in this modern age that our caves are fully plumbed. The toilet for us is the last bastian, the final refuge, the last few square feet of man space left to us. Somewhere to sit, something to read, something to do, and who gives a d**n about the smell. But that for us is happiness because we are men. We are different. We have only one word for soap. We don't own candles. We have never seen anything of any value in a craft shop. We do not own magazines for the photographs of celebrities with all their clothes on. When we have conversations we actually take it in turns to talk. We have not yet reached that level of earth shattering boredom and inhuman despair that we would have a haircut recreationally. We don't know how to get excited about really, really boring things like ornaments, bath oil, the countryside, vases, small churches. We do not even know what, what in the name of God, is the purpose of potpouri. Looks like breakfast, smells like your auntie. Why do you need that? So please, in this strange and frightening world, allow us one last place to call our own. This toilet, this blessed pot, this fortress of solitude. You girls, you may go to the bathroom in groups of two or more. We do not pass comment. We do not make judgment. That is your choice. But we men will always walk the toilet mile alone.

Finding...

You dont know when
You dont know how
You fear it so
It comes to you anyhow

You seek it not
Of its thoughts you deny
It passes you in the street
You turn a cold blind eye

A touch on your shoulder
You smile and turn
With beseeching eyes it begs
Ever so gently do you spurn

For your conscience is mum
Of the wrong you undertake not
And you envision the fable
That you live without

Truth is what you uphold
Deceit into the dust
But the soft gentle calling
Seems wont to betray the trust

With infinite patience
It watches in wait
Unpining and knowing
For this is the defining trait

For this takes its time to mature
Like all the best wine does
And the heady feeling that succeeds
Is the part that it loves

For some their tongue may wag
Others cry out their soul
But the worst to be are those
That let one slip, in control

It could wait for this one
It would wait for long
It should wait forever
Just for it only to belong