His Blush

He heard that all familiar beep. He knew what it meant. He tried to ignore it. He tried to go about doing what he was doing. Not wanting to get all caught up in it, all addicted to it. So he tried his best to ignore it.

But after a few seconds, there it was again, and then another, immediately after the first. 

Now his curiosity got the better of him. He needed to know what were the content. And although he promised himself otherwise, his curiosity got the better of him.

He reached for his phone and read every word. 

He suddenly felt of flushed, all hot under the collar. He felt like the blood from all over his body seemed to have rushed to his face. The words that he read had caused him to blush.

He wondered if men even blushed. Was it manly to blush? But what he read had all the ingredients to bring about this feeling in him, this wanting in him, this longing in him, causing him to blush.

After the last heartbreak, after his last heartache, he promised himself never again. Never would he put himself through this pain, never to get his hope high, to have this expectations, to have it all come crashing down, breaking him down. 

But yet here he was trying hard not to let these words lead him down a rabbit hole and into the unknown, trying hard to anchor his feelings and emotions and be real. And these words were making him loose control, loose control over his emotions, over his feelings, that he was so hard trying to keep under check.

It was causing him to build hopes and dreams, a lifetime of togetherness. Making him act like a giddy teenager. Was making him blush.

Just then when he thought he could blush no more, his phone buzzed… “My dearest Hubby….!” And he blushed a crimson shade of red!

Take a Chance on Me

If you change your mind

I'm the first in line

Honey, I'm still free

Take a chance on me

If you need me, let me know

Gonna be around

If you've got no place to go

When you're feeling down

Sang ABBA… but isn’t this something we keep asking ourselves and keep asking others. At every turn, at every moment , at every phase of our lives, that’s what we keep saying, that’s what we keep wanting, that’s what we keep asking.

Be it a dating app, or a job interview, or love, that’s what we ask, take a chance on me. It’s take the chance and go through the door, not knowing what’s behind it, what’s in store for us. Or take a chance and take the leap of faith, not knowing whether we will plummet down, or we will find our wings and take flight and soar.

It’s like standing in front of your lover (or a love interest) telling them that you are just a boy standing in front of them to love him. To put all the past hurt, to put all their doubts and fear, behind them. To heal. To take a chance of him. To love him.

It’s like flipping through various profiles on a dating app, each in their own way asking you to take a chance on them and swipe right, give them a chance to know them, to show you who they truly are, or let them get into your pants.

It’s like going for an interview and asking your interviewer to take a chance on you. You have shown your qualifications and experience, now you need the chance to prove your ability, your capabilities. And hopefully they will not regret giving you the chance, or you won’t regret taking the chance.

At the end of the day, life’s all about taking chances, on love, life, and everything in between, never knowing what’s in store for us.

Rafting on the Ganga

On my way back from zip lining across the Ganga, I chance to see groups of people wearing life vests and helmets, with paddles in their hands, and rafts being inflated. As I ride along, I pass vehicles ferrying rafts and along with their occupants.

Could this possibly be what I was thinking? Would the Gods have been so kind on me? Was rafting started before the date they were supposed to start?

I race to the market before I loose my chance to tick off one thing off my list! But not too fast so as to avoid skidding on the road that had gravel on it, thanks to the all the landslides. And yes I already skidded in the most funniest of ways!

After riding for a while in the market I was able to zero in on an operator and manage to book myself with them. I pay the charges and wait for them to prepare the raft. I also take a brief trip into market.

When I come back, I have to wait a while as the raft is still not completely ready, and yes more importantly they are waiting for other occupants. 

Once again the Gods were kind on me and I don’t have to wait too long, when a group of five gentlemen come to enquire, and finally sign up.

Once the raft is ready it is loaded atop our transportation, as we pile in into our transportation to the start point.

All through our ride I get to know that these gentlemen come from various part of the country, with one of them being a Mumbaikar from Borivali who frequents my beloved BNP.

At first I try to keep to myself, but then this is not a good time to be shy, after all this was supposed to be solo trip, my solo adventure, to put myself out there and make new acquaintances and friends.

As we reach our destination, we help each other to put on and tighten our life jackets. We put on our helmets and head down to the river below, while our instructors prepares the raft. But not before some selfies are taken.

As we make our way down, along with other rafters, we dodge rafts that’s heading to the river.

We indulge in some more selfies and pics as we wait for our raft to reach. Once our raft is in the water, one of the instructors shows us how to hold our paddle, the different ways to paddle and instructions for the same, (dang I could make an eLearning module with all these instructions), but most importantly how to sit and balance our weight without falling overboard because of the current of the water.

After putting our mobiles and purses in a dry bag, we pile into the raft, taking our position l and locking our legs. Our raft slowly drifts to the centre of the river, following others who were ahead us. We wait patiently for our instructor give us our instructions.

We paddle towards our first rapid, and then stop, bracing ourselves to encounter the first thrill. Well it was thrilling, not as thrilling as I would have wanted to be. 

But then to our horror, the raft ahead capsizes, throwing its occupants into the river. It’s a moment of panic, but thanks to their life vests and the calmness of the instructor, they manage to hold to the raft. Some even hold on to another raft that’s nearby.

Once we know they are safe, we continue our ride downstream, more aware of the importance of paddling in unison and listening to our instructor.

We almost miss the next, gentler rapid, missing out on the thrill factor. To our dismay our instructor signals to us to row towards the bank signalling the end of our rafting experience, and the vehicle will come and take us back.

We dejectedly get off the raft, but decide to take a dip in the river. But then luck favours us as the cops do not let them take the raft up as doing so would damage the road.

So we get into the raft once again and we are back on the river. Well there may not be much of a rapid but we get ride the current.

Our instructor lets us take a plunge into the river, one at a time, but we need to hold on to the rope at the side. 

So one by one we jump into the river and then we haul ourselves up by pushing down on the rope while your fellow rafters pull you back on board by your jacket.

As always I am the last person to go into the river, and although I am wearing my life vest, there’s still this tiny bit of panic that grips me, leaving you feeling like you are going under, making you want to immediately get back into the raft. 

So you try to haul yourself up, of course with the help of your raft mates (raft mates has a better ring to it). Now all that’s left is follow instructions of your instructor and reach the end of your rafting journey. But not before you can get some quick clicks, and a round samosas and bidding farewell to my raft mates.

Well, with this I can proudly say that I managed to do rafting at Rishikesh, even though I not ready to strike this off my list so fast. But all said and done, even though it was not as exciting as I thought it would be, I am happy I did it and thanks to  the Luck Gods for favouring that day and giving an opportunity to do something even before it was officially rafting season!!!

Riding the BRO

Never thought I would find myself riding the BRO. That is Bharat Road Organisation for the uninitiated (damn this should be ingrained in me, a rule of thumb, to always expand an acronym! What a Duh!)

So here I was riding down the BRO, a simple rider on his simple two-wheel ride, nothing fancy, nothing that you would take with you on a bike trip.

As Bikers pass me by wearing all their biking regalia, I feel so underdressed, like a person who’s shows up to party in shorts and flip-flops, sticking out like a sore thumb. But then I am no biker so I think I can be excused.

I ride slow and cautiously, slowly and steadily building the confidence to ride this long, winding road, being careful not to skid over the pebbles brought down by the rain.

So you ride down the road as it twist and turns, making it way around the hills, having the river Ganga for company in the valley below. You occasionally stop to capture the sights, to have something physical of these memories you make, not just mere photographs on the walls of mind, cause what stands before is majestic and breathtaking and you aren’t sure if you would get a chance to see them again (though in your heart of hearts you sincerely wish you get to see it all again).

And then you see people clicking pics and taking selfie, making you want to go up to them and give them poses and click their pic, not that you are some tees mar khan who clicks world class pics, but you surely know that you could click better pics.

So you capture these moments, both on your phone, and in your mind, and make on your way. 

And though you may not be a biker but in those few moments we get the bikers high, the thrill of riding the BRO!!!

Zipping Across the Ganga

What’s the use of traveling to Rishikesh and not doing any adventure sport, or at least daring yourself to do something you have never ever done before. And knowing the crazy person I am, doing these activists definitely is on my bucket list.

But it was just my luck that activities like river rafting and bungee jumping was to start only on the 15th and I was in town only till the 11th.

But thanks to Samarth, the co-founder of UbEx Hostel, the place I was put up, who recommended a couple of activities to do, one of them being zip lining across the Ganga.

So as soon as I got my two-wheeler, which I hired, I took off (well not literally, just figuratively), to my destination brimming with excitement and enthusiasm and a promise of an adventure (if you could call it that).

As I reached there my heart began to pound against my chest, threatening to break through my rib cage. A mixture of nerves, of excitement, and a bit of fear (and no, I don’t have fear of heights), an anticipation of what is to come.

So I get into my harness and put on the gloves, and my instructor tightens my harness and attaches my carabiner and pulley to my side. I follow him as he leads me to the top of the building and to the ramp from where I would zip line across the Ganga and back. I try to pay attention to the instructions that he’s giving, afraid that I may blank out and just plunge into the river in sheer panic.

Once the instructions are done, it’s time to zip across the Ganga. He fixes my pulley on the line and attached my carabiner. He asks me hold on to the pulley with my dominant hand which would be my right, and hold on to my lanyard with my left, lean back and cross my legs and I am ready to go. 

So I do as I am instructed, I lean back, cross my leg, and let gravity do its job, and off I go. I let out a woohoo as I zip across the Ganga, letting the wind blow across my face. It’s an exhilarating and exciting and feeling. I see people on the bank, taking a dip in the river, wondering if they notice this person zipping high above them. 

As I reach the other end, my instructor indicates me to break, and as expected I totally mix it up, using my left hand instead of right, almost causing me to blister. Leave it to me to mix even simple things up.

He unhooks me (damn this sounds kinky) and asks me to follow him to the zip line to the other side (and here I thought I would be using the same line to go back). 

I follow him like an excited little kid, or one of those game show contestants on The Crystal Maze following the host Richard O’  Brian (and If you haven’t heard of this show Google it, damn this makes me feel really, really old), trying to catch my breath from all the excitement.

So once you hooked once again it’s off you go to the other side, zipping across the Ganga and people frolicking on the bank, or just taking a  dip in the river. This time you get your breaks right and you are able to stop yourself with the right hand (which incidentally is also the right hand… damn English sure is a punny language).

As you come to a  halt a little early you literally have to haul your ass to the ledge. And thanks to all the upper body workout that Jayesh has put you through, not forgetting that stubborn weight you are finally able to shed off, you are literally able to haul your ass to the ledge. 

When my instructor asks me how was my experience, I smile and give him a thumbs up. This was one for the memory book and an item off my bucket list l.

The Stream

I could hear it calling out to me. In its deep roar, beckoning me to follow it, not downstream, but up, to its source, somewhere hidden and secret.

And as I follow its call, this heaviness in me slowly gets lighter. Like I have been shredding off the weight that’s been weighing heavy on my heart, heavy in my mind, holding me down.

I plod slowly and steadily up the slope, constantly listening to its roar, which sometimes turns to whisper, a murmur, as it veers away from my path. But still it constantly whispers in my ears to follow it.

Now slopes and I share a love-hate relationship, but then like most of my relationship, even this hate seems one-sided. Cause though I may curse and state how much I hate these slopes, I know it makes a better, stronger and a fitter me, and somehow these damn slopes love to challenge me.

So I continue to walk up this slope as the roar keeps pushing me to follow it.

And low and behold I come to place all secluded, quiet and peaceful. Far from the hustle-bustle of the city, far from the maddening crowd. 

I take off my sandals and dip my toes in the coolness of this stream, slowly and steadily making my way to a rock where I can sit and take in this moment.

I let my feet be submerged in the cool water, which therapeutically, along with the rocks, try to soothe the aching that they feel, that my sole and soul feels.

I sit there on the rock in quiet meditation. The sound of the stream, as it makes it way over rocks and stones and sandy beds, leaving me in a meditative stupor (if I am using the term rightly).

In this moment I find the quietness that I’ve yearned for, that I desperately needed to begin my healing process, to begin a journey back to me. And a tear rolls down my cheek and mingling with the stream, cause even I cry.

Even though I could sit on this rock for all eternity but the world that I left behind calls me back. And I slowly make my way back, trying not to loose my footing. 

I pause over a bridge, staring down at the stream. In this stream there’s a lesson for me. I could be like the rock that stands firm against the impact of the stream, never budging from it place against all adversity.

And then there’s the stream not letting anything stop it or hold it back, either making its way through, or over, or around, anything that comes in its way, never staying stagnant, always moving, pushing through, powering through, never to let it stop.

Taking these lesson and these moments of peace and of solitude I return back to the the life I knew.

Road Trippin’

The best part of a road trip is what you see outside your window… yes there’s the endless concrete and the endless line of cars…but then there’s the fields and the trees  and the blue skies and at times the river below (which may have run dry at the moment).

And if you aren’t dosing off to sleep (like I normally do), or pouring over your book, you would get to take in the sights of little quaint villages that drive through, the life away from the hustle bustle of the city, making you feel like there’s a whole new world out there.

And these sights become a part of your journey, a part of the memory that you take with you.

So put down that book and wipe that sleep from your eyes. There’s a whole world waiting for you out there to take in, to experience, to enjoy. So don’t loose that opportunity and live life to the fullest!

Life is short… and the World is Large

“Life is short, and the world is large, so let’s go out and make some memory”

And as my heart races with a mixture of excitement and nervousness and hesitation, I know this is something I need to do. Something that I have put off for too long. Something that I was hesitant to do as I was not sure I was capable of!

But I have just one life and one heart. And if don’t live it now, I may never get the chance to make many memories (I can assume that I have lived more than half my share of a lifetime without much of travel). 

So the trip means so many things to me, as I need to find myself, to heal, to be at peace with myself. So even though I have never ever done anything like this, this journey is something I need to take, this is an adventure I need to go on! 

There’s no telling what’s in store, what’s out there, what adventures are awaiting me, what experiences will I have. The uncertainty scares, makes me nervous, but the same tine excites me. That what makes life exciting, that what make life worth living. 

So here’s to travels!

Here’s to memories!

Here’s to adventures!

Here’s to peace and healing!

Here’s to me!