ILE MAURICE: A Lone wolf's travel

Seeing as this was going to be my first travel by air and one to a new land altogether all alone, I should have been pretty excited and bouncing off the walls (well, at least that’s how I thought I would be acting when I would fly for the first time). But my thoughts and actions were anything but that. It was as if I was on just another casual holiday to my hometown. Well no, that would be wrong; my holidays back home are anything but casual and nothing less of supreme excitement for me. But coming back to what I am talking about, I took my first flight pretty coolly, well as coolly as I could after finding out about where the check in counter would be, to what should I do if I don’t find the flight terminal on time. I’ll admit, I felt like the village idiot at the moment asking anyone and everyone who has ever flown for proper airport directions, much to the amusement of my family. It was like I told my aunt; it’s not so much the new country but getting there that has me flustered. Once my feet would be back on Terra firma I would be just fine I kept telling everyone, even if it meant I did not know the place or local language. So there I was in the plane wondering what on earth is so amazing about flying! For one, I could not see a thing out, thanks to Nilam (the recent hurricane/cyclone in Bay of Bengal). All of Bangalore was terribly overcast and the resulting turbulence made me feel like I was in a Volvo on a road in bad need of repairs and resurfacing. No big deal I told myself, just that I am paying much more for lesser agony- the jerkiness at a height of 10 km rather than on the ground. I must tell you, I was seriously disappointed with being up in the air. And was I wrong. With most of my first leg of the journey done and the flight landing in Mumbai, I chanced a look outside and was I in for a surprise! Owing to the clear skies in Mumbai, the visibility for me was really good. The whole place was lit up like a Christmas tree, bright and glowing. What initially looked like a row of street lights slowly came into better focus to reveal moving vehicles across a bridge built over water. I no longer felt I was on a rough patch of road; I was almost gleeful like a kid, taking in the sight before me. The next flight should be definitely better I told myself, seeing as I would be flying over water for most part. So with those thoughts in mind, I checked in at the international terminal with about 3-4 dozens of senior citizens. It was then I realized that the major population of older generation was actually over 60 or nearly 70 and actually heading to my destination, Mauritius- a honeymooner’s paradise. It was a very unusual mix of people, a Vicenarian like me; all by me, and a bunch of Sexagenarian & Septuagenarian heading to a very unusual place for all of us. While I was amused and a little worried as to what would happen if all us were on the same tour during our stay there, I couldn’t help but think how cute all of them looked together, jabbering away in Marathi and being less fussy than I during the wait to board the flight. Soon but not soon enough, it was time to board the flight and here I was a little annoyed at these people taking advantage of their age and pushing all the youngsters out of the queue, while we could only smile politely and let them do that. Once we were all seated and fed and watered, I turned my attention to the in-flight entertainment. Once again feeling like the village idiot as I was unable to figure out how to change the channel, I just drifted off to sleep. And after what felt like a bare few minutes, I was gently roused by the stewardess offering me my morning breakfast, which left a lot to be desired. It was almost past 8 in my watch, which was set to IST and meant that it was almost 7 in my time zone. It somehow seemed a lot brighter outside, through the slit of the window blinds. Once we were asked to lift the shades up, I did so bleary eyed not really realizing what I was looking at. And then at that moment, all that forgotten excitement came rushing back as I realized that what I thought was just endless blue sky was in fact that and the Indian Ocean in all its blue glory. It had the deep blue color of a blue sapphire and I could simply not take my eyes off of it. And when the wandering clouds did drift across, it only added to the beauty. They looked fluffy enough to be cotton and solid enough to be stepped on in places and so wispy in others that you could see through their hazy constitution, all the while being able to see the silhouette of the plane wing on it. As we lost height, I could spot cruise yachts, fishing boats and an occasional speed boat with a place in the ocean where the surf kept breaking, looking frothy and looking like some kind of a clear demarcation line. And as the land came up in view, I could not help but marvel at the beauty of Mother Nature. While the island looked all soaked up in sandy robe basking in the sun’s warm morning glow; the other side looked incredibly green with rolling hills alongside. After we landed, I could not help but think just how much it looked like India. The board welcoming all the passengers said ‘Welcome to Paradise’ and I again thought, yes it looks just like my paradise: Gulbarga. It was uncanny with the sun’s warmth, typical black soil, more or less same vegetation. And I was suddenly home sick. I came face to face with the glaring realization that I was to spend 5 days all by myself with not even a single known soul. Being the stubborn mule that I am, I pushed that home sickness and loneliness aside and braved the ride to the resort all by myself. While others had people to jabber to, I had to comfort myself with the thought that I would get to know at least a few of them over the course of the day. And it so happened, that I was to stay at a lovely little resort, packed away at the north of the island and catered to by some lovely and friendly staff. That did lift my spirits up a bit but the loneliness simply refused to go away. I had my lunch and thought of taking a walk by the beach, next to the resort. The beach was over crowded, that day being a public holiday in Mauritius and if anything, the noise there, contrary to lifting my spirits, only sank them further. As I trudged back to the resort and turned the TV on to entertain myself, I realized that the resort played only 12 channels, out of which 11 are French and 1 in Hindi, the Hindi one playing long forgotten movies. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back and in that terrible mood of melancholy, I put myself to sleep. The nap did me some good, the lingering fatigue of the travel was gone as was a little of the home sickness. I brought my stubborn mule back to forefront and made a few calls home, took a stroll, met my travel agent and just spent my time to await the end of a seemingly endless day. The next day dawned bright and beautiful; I must mention here that, it was bright outside at 5 AM in the morning, something that I had never seen before. My spirits and mood matched the weather outside and I was looking forward to a full day tour of the south Mauritius. Breakfast done and wait for the tour bus had me meeting an older Indian couple from Ahmedabad and another younger couple from Shillong. They like others seemed surprised that an Indian girl was out on a holiday all by herself in a country she has never been to before. I did my best to control my ego that seemed to be inflating by the minute while they admired my ‘bravery’. I had to remind myself that I had done nothing noteworthy that claimed that I was brave in whichever sense. But with the ice broken and tour started we headed out to a natural volcanic crater created by the now extinct volcano that created Mauritius. It was slightly impressive but not to a great extent, seeing that it was not very deep and was completely dry as it was just the beginning of summer there. It had a very nice view of the surrounding mountains though and since the sky was starting to get a little overcast, the clouds near the hills made for a lovely sight. It was next on to a waterfall formed again partly due to volcanic activity but it was hardly a trickle owing again to the summer. Next on to was a place called Ganga Talao/ Grand Bassin. This place is considered holy by all the Hindus staying in Mauritius. On route we find a huge statue of Shiva that scales 108 feet and is the second tallest in the world, the first being a statue in Gurgaon. Stories have it, that an Indian gentleman carried the waters of the holy Ganges from India and poured it into this lake three times, thus almost bringing it to the same religious status as the Ganges. Every year on Mahashivratri, Hindus observing the fast come all the way to this place to take the water from here to break their fast. It has a small temple with many Hindu deities and the sanctum sanctorum dedicated to a Shiva Lingam. From here it was onto the ship factory, a place that specializes in recreating miniature versions of some of the most famous shipping vessels ever to have made voyages. It has the Normandie, Titanic, Amerigo Vespucci among many others recreated in varying shapes, some just inches across to some almost 3-5 feet in length. While all this was interesting, what I was really looking forward to was the village of Chamarel. The village gets its name from a French family that owned the area. The area is very well known for its seven colored earth and rightly called ‘The seven colored earth of Chamarel’. There is a small area that is cordoned off to the public that contains this seven colored earth. Rumor has it, that the seven colored sands were created by, any guesses? Yes, surprise, surprise, by the same Mr. Volcanic activity. The iron content in this soil is so high that nothing ever grows here. It has sand in hues of red, brown, violet, green, blue, purple and yellow. It was one thing that bested my imagination. Spread across in various shades, it looked as it some had spilt their paint palette while in the process of painting a scenery. From there on we proceeded to Black River Gorges. Apparently it’s not a black colored river, but gets its names from the initial mass of Africans that had predominantly settled in that area thus earning it the name black river. A little racist if you ask me, but back then when Africans were being used as slaves, it would not have been any different. But what it does have is a beautiful view of the water from on top of the hill and the expanse of water below with its little dotting of islands, brings a nice closure to the end of the tour of south Mauritius. Next day dawned even brighter and hotter than the previous day. I was pleased to see that not a cloud was in sight, for it was a trip to Ile Aux Cerfs Island today. This is mostly the high light of the tour of Mauritius seeing as it has all the water sport activities happening on this island. We first proceeded to a beach from where we were to be taken a distance into the water and then we would begin our first water activity, undersea walk. After hopping onto to a speed boat, we practically shot over the surface of the water as we made our way to another boat about 200 meters out into the sea. The spray from the sea as we rode in the boat was welcoming under the heat of the sun. Once onto the boat, we were instructed on how it would be under water and basic underwater signs. The contraption that they use is pretty simple when compared to a scuba diving suit. It’s a simple metal helmet that has an oxygen line connected to the boat. Working on simple laws of physics, air is filled in it and it is lowered over your head, as a diver pulls you down into the water. Since there is oxygen in it already, water does not enter your helmet and the continuous inflow of oxygen helps you breathing comfortably. The weight belts keep you down and prevent you from floating right back to the surface. When it was my turn to get into the water, did I actually realize just how cold the water was! It almost gave me goose bumps and on instinct of getting inside the water I held my breath. The feel and quite inside the water was just beyond words. My ears popped a bit, the way they do during a flight probably due to change in the pressure but at a depth of just 10 feet, it was not anything uncomfortable. Once on the sea bed, the other diver instructed me to walk slowly forward and to keep looking sideways at the corals around. Walk slowly I did, cause there was no way on earth I could even think of moving fast. I always thought walking in a pool was difficult until I walked on the sea bed. It was as if I was trying to learn to walk all over again. I had to inhale to make myself slightly ever lighter and put a foot forward by a few centimeters. But the experience was simply astounding. The peace, quiet and solitude down there amongst the brown coral and the zebra fish swimming past was right out of a dream. I had never imagined walking could be so much fun, of course it was walking on a sea bed, but it’s walking nonetheless. And before I knew, our 10 minutes under the sea were up and we were all hoisted up into the boat and to proceed to the Island of Ile Aux Cerfs. The island has public access restricted to only about 30% of the total area. The remaining 70% is a private holding. Once on the island, as I was a lone wolf amongst the honeymooners, I decided to go ahead and finish my para-sailing  I had been really looking forward to it, to feeling weightless and drifting across the sky. Para sailing in Mauritius takes place from a raft anchored a little away from the beach. The take-off and landing both happen from this platform. Apparently not wanting to risk sending me up alone into the sky, the instructor was sent along to handle the parachute. I was bothered in the least; he could take care of the landing and adjusting the strings while I enjoyed the view and the ride. The take-off was nothing like I had expected no butterflies in the stomach kind of a feeling. It was so smooth I might probably not even have noticed it had I not felt the wind buffeting me around. As we gained height I could clearly see the variation in the color of the water and the area where surf kept breaking forming a frothy line as I had seen from the plane. My instructor went on to explain that the forth was being caused due to underwater corals which formed a barrier and hence waves broke over it. The water looked different shades because from the corals till the beach the water was a mere 3-5 meters deep but immediately after a sudden drop of 100 meters and hence the deep blue shade, this also being the area where the predators would be. While my brain processed all that info, I was elsewhere enjoying the feel of the breeze, the feel of nothingness and just being there. It was almost nothing existed high up there as I was barely able to hear a sound; it was a mute picture playing out in front of me. Slowly the parachute lost height and then as we dipped into the water almost getting drenched, we gained height and cruised along up there for a while more before landing back onto the platform. Then it was time for another speed boat ride around the island, this one at a speed even greater than before, almost throwing the boat’s occupants of the boat. It was nothing short of thrilling in other words. That was how the second day of the tour and a fun day at Ile Aux Cerfs came to an end. The last day of the tour I was sun burnt, all thanks to the water fun the previous day. I was obnoxious enough to think that since I came from the land of burning sun, the Mauritian sun could do me no harm. Boy was I proved wrong. The sun apparently there doesn’t care if you never got sun burned in Gulbarga; it shows you no mercy there. But since the last day was not much out door, it was ok. We first went to the city of Port Louis and to the local fort there built by the British to protect themselves against attacks. For a fort, it sure is small and barely has enough area to have considerable living quarters or barracks for soldiers. It has a few cannons placed at strategic locations and if not much has a nice view of the harbor. Placed alongside the fort at a lower elevation is the world’s second oldest race course, first one being in England. From there we move onto an open air catholic church that is one of its kinds. It is out in the open at the base of a hill and operates only on Sundays, when it’s closed to the public. From there on, it is Caudan Waterfront next, the biggest shopping area in Port Louis. It’s built right by the Oceanside and offers an amazing view of the ocean and the various yacht and catamarans anchored by. It is also a good place to pick souvenirs and get some shopping done; this would bring out the bargaining skills in many a people. It is also the only place in Mauritius where sugarcane juice is sold, as all the juice of sugarcane is used in making sugar, which is one of the main exports of this country. Lots of food joints are clustered around the open ocean and some promotional activities keep taking place much like in the malls here. The fresh breeze from the ocean and the view sets a perfect mood for either day dreaming or contemplation, whichever is your favorite. While the day draws to a close, its one last stop at Bagatell mall that is quite like any other mall but offers on sale the locally brewed Rum made from molasses of the sugarcane. And then it’s a wrap of the tour of Mauritius and back to the resort. As the next day dawns bright and lovely, and bags are packed, I can’t but think how I have come to see this small Island as something very familiar and close to home. The hospitality of the resort put me at so much ease and made the stay there so much more wonderful, almost as if it was home. As I board the plane, though I am glad to be coming back home, I know that this multicultural land will hold a special place in my heart for days to come and I hope to tell its story, at least the little that I have heard to my people in my land.

Kya har ek friend zaroori hota hai?

Are we now questioning the tagline of AirTel cellular service? I would not say that it is exactly that, but it’s more of a thought in retrospect after reading the line. Do we really need every kind of friend or how important is it really to have all kinds of friend in life. It all depends on how we really see a friend or the impact that their presence makes in our life. Each individual that comes into our life brings a certain amount of influence from their own lives. As they say variety is the spice of life. There are a few who can drive you up against the wall, with their non-stop pestering, chattering and questioning. There simply is no way to get them quiet, unless of course you start talking in much louder voice than the one being used by them in the situation. But more oft than not, this just fuels their enthusiasm to continue their conversation and before you know it, it’s them doing all the talking and you just end up doing what you wanted to avoid in the first place. Listening to a strong one-sided conversation! And try as you might, you simply won’t get them to shut up! So you just let them ramble on while you sit there pretending to listen while silently groaning inward! Then, there are those who rarely use the power of speech to communicate. All they require is a nod, a gesture and few words thrown in between to keep the conversation (their version of a conversation, that is) going. You are left wondering, ‘What on earth can get them into an animated conversation’? While the former clan of people can teach us how not to lose enthusiasm and to voice our opinions strongly, the latter can show us how to be good listeners. There are some who go all out recklessly and do things, living life on the edge, with the ‘Devil may care’ attitude, where as there are yet others who plan things so meticulously that you know these are people who consult a to-do list for their day to day activities. There are still some who have a sense of equanimity in their actions. They are usually the balancing factor amongst a group of friends. They keep the high fliers a little grounded, let them be a little reckless but in a measure, where when things start going out of control, they can always reel them back in. Though sometimes they might be left thinking ‘I am so going to regret this!’ when the high flyers get them into some adventurous/risky situation but mostly come out feeling exhilarated after having that adventure and feeling more alive. Probably because of this,they can then again, be the coaxers to the tedious planners, helping them take things lightly, making them a part of impromptu plans so as to enable them to unwind and not be stiff about situations or as we say these days, ‘Go with the flow’. Some appear to only keep taking risks and make endless mistakes with their decisions but that never deters them from trying new things. This never give-up attitude despite all the follies of theirs can, at times be increasingly frustrating and annoying to others, especially those who rescue them time and again, from the pits that they have managed to stumble into yet another time. They, through their ‘not-so-well thought out plan’ and the following repercussions teach us to be more careful and wary of situations, people and risk taking in life, in general. But this same set of people can be that little ray of sunshine and hope when there is nothing but gloom around and try as one might, there seems no end to the long dark night. Their undying hope of ‘a light at the end of the tunnel’ serves to help as much as cause trouble when left unbridled. But then don’t we all need some mistakes to learn and probably have a nice laugh a few years down the line. When there is such variety, fun and learning along the way (read as life), then why hold back or for that matter even question it? Each friend comes along adding his own spice to it, making the perfect broth. And this broth unlike the famous saying is never spoilt with too many cooks. In fact here, it’s always ‘The more the merrier’

Remember?

What do I write? I ask myself yet again! There simply seems nothing to be written in specific when you want to pen something! Ah! Like always, ideas come up to me when I least expect them to!!! The power-cut happened yet again!
 Well no, I am not  cribbing  about the power-cut but the apparent lack of concern about it! Most of us enjoying the gifts of modern technology have an inverter in place to make life so much easier for us. 
  No power the city moans! We have no care we say, we got inverter in place. While this is certainly a wonderful thing, specially when it comes to not spending the night in the humid/hot weather or tolerating those pesky blood sucking mosquitoes that somehow manage to sneak inside the house no matter what time of the evening you close the doors and windows and have all the mosquito repellant in place!
 But amidst all this I miss those days when inverters where unheard of! No, I was not born in the early 20th century, thank you so much. Inverters were practically unheard of in so recently as late 1990s. The only thing that saved you in terrible summers during a power cut were the generators! And those while on the bright side, did brighten up your home, surely gave a headache to the rest of the neighborhood with it deafening noise!
  While not all of us had the luxury of even owning a generator, we made do with what we could! Bring out those long thin candles and light them up, and if you were in the mood, start the shadow play! One pair of hands turns into a shadowy croc while the other enacts a dog and yet another a bird in flight! And to beat the heat, our faithful newspapers always doubled up as hand held fans! When was the last time any of us got to do that? I cannot really recall except for last week when our inverter conked out!
 This really was a time of the evening when the family got the real family time! No TVs, no radios, no noise, just chatter! And if you were lucky and the whole city was in a blackout you could just glimpse that wondrous night sky, in all it's glory, of course if the full moon was on a monthly vacation. And as we sat gazing, you could hear distant sounds of a hand held radio/transistor tuned to the local aakashwani station, playing those songs that you did not even know existed and made your parents/grandparents reminiscence fondly! And you always wondered, man...just how old are these guys! They listen to such deadbeat music! Of course those would not happen to be our exact words/thoughts, but then you get the idea.
 Are those days lost forever? Or are they just lying in wait for us to just sit up and take notice? That it's just a matter of knowing where to look for and just how simple it can be. Turn those lights off and start the bonfire..oops sorry I mean candle light. Wow for someone who just a few minutes ago did not know what to write, I have written an awful lot!!! No wonder it's the same when I get started about not having much to talk and end up talking more than those guys who actually have some stuff to say! Typical ME! :)

What is it with these guys?

Funny how I am writing this on International Women’s Day. I happened to be talking to a friend and invariably moved onto the topic of his latest passion. No, it’s not a girl, but photography. More aptly it would be his camera. He owns an absolutely Wow SLR camera (for all I know it could be just a regular camera for all those photography enthusiasts, but for one as uneducated as me in those matters, it sure seemed WOW) and seems to have been in love with it since first sight.
That intrigued me and I was reminded of having read in a Clive Cussler novel about how men have this uncanny ability to love inanimate things and how women can never understand that. And the woman in the conversation said something that somehow made sense. She says “We women can never really understand how men can love inanimate objects. Women can never really love things that don’t love them back”.
That line really made me think. Men and women certainly belong to the same genus-species but the similarity ends there. I have seen or heard about enthusiasts or collectors and needless to say a majority of that crowd is somehow male. So what is it with men and their gadget love? I mean it could be a musical instrument or car or gadget and yeah, let’s not forget bikes! These guys would willingly give up human company to spend time with their so called ‘Love’!
I have rarely seen a woman obsess this way unless of course it comes to shopping (and a hundred and one things that figure in our shopping list). But this is certainly not the kind of obsessive love that men display. A woman can only truly love only that which can express its love back. Selfish you say? I don’t really think so. She just loves being loved and appreciated. So maybe, even pets top her list but not always an object.
This seems to be quite an opposite behavior with men, who seem to have this amazing ability to be able to love things, that can’t love them back. A guy will chase his interest with a great fervor and as time passes, the obsession instead of waning, only grows by leaps and bounds.
Or is it like the new Honda BRIO ad claims, ‘Love your BRIO, it loves you back’? Men just love their toys and somehow feel loved but not bound to them by having to talk to them/ praise their good looks/ appreciate them. This probably must be the reason why they are more comfortable around the inanimate objects! Those objects simply don’t keep talking for no reason and never even stop or give them a chance to make their point! And it’s just the same reason that women can’t be in love with objects, that can’t talk back to them. Looks like we are all wired differently when it comes to these things, each person having his/her own quirks. It’s probably why, this world ceases to be monotonous and gives that much needed spice to the many aspects of everyone’s life.