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!

A Desert Full of Fun

If Jesus could spend 40 days and night in the desert and survived on locus and honey (if I got that right), then spending few hours in the desert is no great feet.

You seen it on big screen, and small screen, for that matter on every screen. You’ve seen it in print ADs and pictures, but when you see it person it leaves you spellbound.

The endless sand dunes creating a mirage of shapes, the breeze creating a patterns in the sand, likes waves cascading down. The mixture of the  sun, sand and the sky creating a magnificent painting.

And then you have Dune Bashing. If you thought riding a shared ric from Vikrohli to Ghatkopar was exhilarating and often leaving you breathless (thanks to the drivers    being direct descendants of the Ferraris drivers, or at least that’s what they think of themselves as), add to that riding roller coaster, and you will have Dune Bashing. Your stomach does a flip flop as the vehicle swerves and turns, slides up and down, with your heart almost making it way to your mouth. Nothing can really prepare you for what you experience but experience it you must. It combines the thrills of riding a roller coaster and off-road riding.

Stepping out, on reaching your destination, your legs feel like jelly, but you still run up the dunes to catch a glimpse of the setting sun. Running up dunes meant 10 times the effort than what you put running up Kanheri. And though you would prefer running up Kanheri any day, the adrenaline carries you on.

And once you are done with staring at the setting sun you click pictures with the majestic falcon. Ok not majestic but quite a beauty in its own right. 

Finally you sit back and you enjoy the show which includes captivating belly dancing and performance with fire, not to forget some sumptuous food. All in all a enjoyable Desert Safari.

Dancer in the Sand

She had the audience enthralled with her every move. She caught every beat with her hood and her ample bosom.

Every part of her moved to a rhythm, right from her to her toe. Her hair smooth as silk, seemed to flow as if it liquid gold.

She moved effortlessly, if the way she moved is what you called movement. She seemed to float across the floor, moving her hair in way which made you fear that hear may just pop off, giving you a pain in the neck, even though you weren’t with her. 

She had her way of drawing you in, egging her captivated audience to clap on as she twirled and swirled across the stage.

As you stood there totally captivated by her performance, you wanted to join her on the floor even though you didn’t know to do what she was doing.

And when she ended her you couldn’t help but greet her a rapturous applause as she struck one commanding pose.

Brunch... Lunch... and a Reunion of sorts

Is it still a Brunch if you turn up to the place at a time when you should be having your lunch (and your hungry self has already had a breakfast of eggs)??? Would it be lunch and high tea, LunTea (term coined by me which, from the looks, I am not quite good at)? But then I don’t think they serve tea, I am not sure if they even had Iced Tea (I think I did ask for it), unless it’s the Long Island kind.

To cut a long story short (was I even narrating one, I’ve only just begun), for all practical purposes we were there for a Brunch, so let’s call it what we there for, and that is Brunch. So Brunch it is (yipeeee, I seemed to have overused a single term)!

So the moment you enter, the view leaves you stunned. You practically have the entire Dubai skyline visible in front of your eyes (now how cool can that be). You can see the Burj Khalifa in the distance (is there any place in Dubai where you can’t see the Toothpick, barring my sister’s place, which technically is in Sharjah?). The ambience is to die for. You already picked out tons of spots where you want to click pics of yourself (obviously, always your first choice, me before the rest, talk about being narcissistic), and yes there will be great pics of others. So you go click happy (such a touristy thing to do, which also kinda ensures that people know you’re not a local). Was so happy clicking moments that my cousin tried to strike a deal that for every pic I clicked had to take a sip of the Shangrila (when even a sip of wine goes to your head, things can get quite quiet, its not funny).

Inspite of all the complaining, we all love to pose (oh come on now, you don’t have to be so modest), and so you capture memories with family and friends, leaving no stone unturned, and in this case, no family member unclicked (if that’s even a word). The food leaves you salivating, and you wonder if you just heard a bell ring, somewhere (a sidey attempt at ID humour). The beer is flowing, though it’s cranberry juice for you. 

Just as more people begin to appear (call it IST, or Indian Origin Standard Time, cause an Indian will be Indian no matter what, and where), the phone rings and it’s time for Prince Charming (for a change) to leave the Ball, oops I mean the Brunch (yikes did I just call myself that)!

You quickly say your farewell and quickly hop into a cab (courtesy of my sis) and off to a reunion of sorts you go.

Now the cab driver was quite a friendly driver, or should I say chatty driver, and me being me, was at my chatty self, a change from my loner, low self I was most of the time on the trip. But then you remember about the cautioning you have received, and you try to busy yourself to keep your pie hole shut (looks like I was hungry).

Reaching the destination safely, came the tricky part, finding where exactly your friends were. But thanks to Google Maps and

WhatsApp Live Location (no I am not trying to do a product placement), and a lot of effort to find my bearing (thanks to being directionally challenged) finally managed to find them. What followed was craziness, 20 years in the making, after all we were getting together after 20 years (duh).

So there was 20 years of catching up to do. There was a lot of reminiscing to do, loads of cringe worthy memories to bring up and relive, and bones to be picked, after all a lot of things can happen over a cup of coffee. So we behaved like we were not like the matured adults we thought we were. So there were pics with glares and then without glares, this angle and that angle. And if the pic wasn’t good then had to be taken again (posing for pics can be a pain in the neck).

In between came the discussion of Boyfriend or Husband Material (don’t ask me what they mean, cause I am trying to find that out myself), beside the reunion shifting from beach to beach. I am sure to have the title of most boring material. And yes also did give a salsa lesson (after all you just can’t your dancing feet still). 

It was good to catch with friends after all this while, though we missed all who couldn’t make it cause it’s difficult to get everyone in one place, and this was something quite impromptu (which are the best). Though tired and a bit stressed, after all there was a flight to catch, glad  to have made it, you never know when such a thing would be possible again.

Once again it was time to leave and rejoin the Brunch, which now had shifted to another location. Though you try to remain calm and not be on tenterhooks, you just can’t help yourself, it’s so in built in you. 

In the end had quite the hectic but satisfying last day of my Dubai diaries. Though was drained, but pretty happy, cause in the end you made memories that would last with you forever. More like saving the best for last!

.. She put a Spell on You!!!!

All through the evening she shimmered and shone, like a glittering diamond in the evening sky, commanding your attention, not letting you look anywhere but in her direction. Like a spear piercing the sky, or like a toothpick (as it is known) in the Dubai skyline, she had you at “Hello”!

The more you stared at her, more you couldn’t help but fall in love with her, be seduced by her charms. She had that ability to cast a spell on you. So all through the evening you had eyes just for her. There could be a million of things happening around but you couldn’t take your eyes off her, she commanded your attention, and you couldn’t help but do as she commanded.

So as the clock slowly creeped towards midnight you joined the other of her paramours who gathered to admire her beauty, patiently waiting for her to put on a show. With baited breath you waited for her, and she kept teasing with her shimmer and shine of her laser light show, which although you couldn’t view,  you knew was taking place.

As the clock struck 12 she lit up the sky, putting on a show making the wait worth it, dazzling with beauty, radiant as ever. Lighting up the the 31st night (or was it the 1st morning, which technically would be right). You couldn’t help but be left spellbound, picking up your jaw from the floor from where it lay. Words seem to have deserted you cause you struggle to find the right one to describe what you see, what you are witnessing, her beauty. She leaves your mesmerised and dumbfounded. You try and take it all in, to capture it not just your device, but in your memory that will continue to remain with you long after the moments has gone.

So once the moment is ended you can’t help but join the other paramours, applauding what you have just witnessed, but secretly hoping if it could go on forever. You are spellbound at what you have just seen, you don’t want to leave the place or forget the moment, but you got to go, carry that moment as a memory that will remain with you forever. You may be sad to leave her but then that’s what you have to do. So in the end its another year in the bag, and you leave with a sweet memory of the evening with the Burj Khalifa.

Trotting Globally through the Village

After days of family visits and house parties, it was time to play the tourist once again. So after attending Sunday mass (which actually felt like Monday, cause Sunday is the monday here... damn this is puzzling), which felt like ages since I attended mass on a Sunday, it was off to being a tourist.

The Global Village combines cultures of 90 countries across the world at one place. It claims to be the world's largest tourism, leisure, shopping and entertainment project. It is the region's first cultural, entertainment, family and shopping destination (source Wikipedia). So in short, became a global trotter without even stepping beyond my current position on the globe, oops I mean location.

You were in a melting pot of different cultures in a single location. Seems like most of Dubai is a melting pot. The amount of crowd at the place kind of surprised me, considering it was a Dubai Monday, even though it was a Sunday. I can swear I must have photobombed a thousand of selfies and photos. If you run a facial recognition i think you’ll find me in thousands of pics.

Walking in Global Village is a literal trip around the world. The different sections allocated to each country was fascinating. Walking past shops, or was it stalls, checking out what they had on sale. Each shop/stall more fascinating than the other, more colourful, more fascinating (damn I am using this adjective so often, feels like I am running out of terms or language is deserting me), representing the areas which they belonged to. 

cream.

 There was stall with all these colourful lamps, it was like the Lord said let there be light and man made these beautiful colourful lamps. You had a stall selling figurines, the flamingoes reminded me of my buddy Anubha and her fascination for the birds. Then you had snow globes, which perked my interest, and another where you could make a wax caste of your hand, how awesome would that be. There were many other stores, each more interesting (or equally interesting, to be fare) than the other. The Turkish ice cream sellers were up to their usual tricks, playing around with their patron’s ice

The whole place had this holiday vibe (of course it would, after all it’s the holidays), there was excitement in the air, like an electric current. People from all walks of life, all age gender, ethnicity, culture, religion, nationality, mingling together in a single location. You had families pushing around babies in prams, gaggles of ladies in burqa having a ladies night out. Everywhere you could see people haggling, enquiring, browsing, doing what a socially conscious people would do, pout and click selfies (oh I meant social media conscious ), people running around with huge stuffed dogs (which I too wanted but too chicken to try, and if I got one where would I keep it?) which they must have won in some game.

On the Main Stage you had performances by acts from various cultures across the globe. When we reached it you had a troupe doing the Bhangra which actually got the crowd all riled up and excited. You had people running to the stage to get a glimpse of the dance. They had their phones out, clicking and recording it, quite to the bemusement of someone who found this normal.

And once again there was lights and fountain show but this time to a James Bond theme. You had the fountain, the lights on the water, and you had a bit of fireworks. How I wish those pesky boats were not in the way blocking the view.

So we ended up walking quite a bit, from the parking lot to the entrance and then round the different countries. We could actually say we became globe trotters, trotting around the globe in a single place. We walked more than we had, or at least I can say that, in the past few days. But you know what, I didn’t mind all the walking, in fact welcomed it, or was good to get the blood flowing through the feet, though was concerned about how mumma would take with all the walking. But hey she managed it in Ladakh, so here it was a piece of cake.

In the end, even though the feet may have been complaining from all the walking, but  the head and heart we’re glad to have done that, cause they could do with all the walking. So now I can say that I trotted globally through the village.

The Parking Conundrum

It’s a bane of every four wheel driver. A universal problem that you can never escape. You can go round and round and never find one. And should you find one, as you approach it and it gets taken.

You got to be on time to find a good spot. If you’re late then all the spots are taken, even the not so good ones. And then when you manage to find one, it’s miles away from your destination. Ok, may not be miles but then it’s definitely not quite close to where you want to be. So you need to make it a point that you are on time, or before time  (if that were an option, cause if you can’t be on time, before time is only just a dream). 

At times it feels like a game of musical chairs. You pass a spot, then you have to go all the way around, follow the different lane discipline before getting to the spot. You can’t back peddle to get to the spot, you have to go round and come back to the spot. And then also there is no guarantee that you will get the spot, or if the spot is already taken by the time you get there.

So you can drive for miles and miles searching for one, go round and round and round and still not find one. So in the end you end up spending more than half your time to find a spot. 

Then also you have the problem finding where exactly you parked. And if you are someone with depleting grey matter, or if age is catching up to you, then the very best to you trying to figure out your spot. And again you can spend the same amount of time trying to figure out where you parked as you would trying to find a parking spot.

The four wheelers have it worst than the us two wheeler, or do we both have it bad as each other. But then the four wheelers obviously have it worst, end of discussion. After all you can’t always have a Sheldon’s Spot.

So no matter where you go, you can’t escape the bane of finding a parking space.

A walk in Time... Sightseeing in Dubai

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. When  a tourist do what a tourist would do, touristy things. So did the most touristy thing I could do, visit the Dubai Museum. A literal walk in time, to see Dubai from its evolution, it evolving in time, and its quite fascinating journey. 

So you mingled with the tourist out there admiring the displays, seeing how life used to be back then, in the days of yore, in the ciraca of God knows when. Damn I even spotted a Dalda ghee ka dabba and was quite fascinated by the discovery (more than any other discovery in that museum), and later on I would discover packets of Parle G in Lulu (yep that’s the name of a local chain of supermarkets, you could call it their version of Big Bazar and DMart).

Like all other places in Dubai, this was a literal melting pot of people of all ethnicity, people of all cultures, but in it all you could make out us Indian, we have our way of standing out in the crowd, especially a sea of South East Asian people, who can drown out a crowd, giving competition even to the loudest Gujju. And then you had the Marathi Manoos, who you could make out from the pude ya, saral ubhi raha, which in a way so reassuring, hearing something familiar so far way from home.

Later on, walking down the streets and the narrow bylanes  of Al Fahidi, felt like taking a walk back time. It felt like walking down streets that time didn’t touch. The structures and architecture that modernisation hadn’t yet gotten hold of. So you were walking on streets steeped in history. Each turn more fascinating, each structure a story to tell. Ok maybe not quite the story, but they sure were fascinating. 

You had a creek separating the old from the new, a kind of line of control that protected the old from the new, not letting each overlap but letting them coexist in harmony. Fascinating that you have two aspects of time coexisting together. 

So in the end it was a day well spent, a bit of a history lesson, a bit of sightseeing, a time well spent reconnecting with family, a  walk in time.

Love at First Sight

Our eyes locked the moment I stepped into the house. I looked into his beautiful soulful eyes as he came sauntering towards me, his beautiful mane flowing in the air, his slender athletic figure on full display. Was it possible to fall in love with this gorgeous creature at the first sight? But then was it first sight? After all I had seen pictures of him before. So would this be first sight. Well you could call it that, and if you don’t think so then that’s your perception. For all practical purpose, for me it’s first sight.

So now that we have got that out of the way, let’s get back to the moment. So it was love at first sight, and I somehow found myself falling into the abyss of his deep soulful eyes, the ones I could stare into for hours on end. This beautiful creature with those soulful eyes. And as he made his way towards me I could feel my heart beating against my chest, skipping a couple of beats. I felt like a school child coming face to face with their crush. 

When he finally made his way to me, after greeting the rest of the family, I came down to him, hugged him and scratched behind his ears. He seemed happy to see me, but then he was happy creature who was more than happy to have visitors, unlike others. He loved the attention that I showered upon him, not wanting to share it, wanting to be centre of it all. So when I began paying attention to his sibling he nuzzled his head, so I had to scratch and fuss over him only.

Throughout the evening he enjoyed alternating from playing fetch with the kids and snuggling between us, clicking pictures, getting his belly rubbed. Giving paw when asked to, placing his head on our laps, giving us the soulful looks with his deep puppy eyes, hoping to get something from the sumptuous and mouthwatering spread prepared for the evening.

He enjoyed all the attention he was getting. Posing for pictures and being fed, along with his siblings, having the time of his life. And in between it all he was showering his puppy love, slobbery kisses, putting his paw in my hand and his face on my lap, how couldn’t you not fall in love with him, how could you not resist his charm. He had me at hello!

So in the end when it was time to call it a night, he walked us to the door, and with the big soulful eyes bathe us goodbye, giving us a big look before he ran back to join his siblings, turning around as if to say see you soon. It was indeed love at first sight.

BYOC

I have heard of BYOB, or bring your own bottle to office (and not the bottle you’re thinking about, I know it’s Christmas and that’s the only bottle that comes to mind immediately), last night learned a new concept, BYOC, or bring your own chair, or mats, to church. It may seem novel, or even borderline humorous, but considering the crowd, I can understand why people would get their own chairs (folding ones, obviously) and mats to church.

To say that the Church was packed to the rafter would have been an understatement, cause not only was the Church full (actually didn’t even get in there), the grounds around it was full with people of all ethnicities, a melting pot, but mostly Indians. However, I didn’t see chairs on the ground. Since I’ve been attending mass in Orlem, I know what crowds can be like, but then this was next level crowded.

So you had people in their finery sitting on the grass (or should I call it turf, cause it didn’t feel very grassy), on chairs (which I guess they had brought, BYOC) and upon mats. It may have felt strange, but then considering the situation it seemed pretty practical. But one thing I would commend the ushers and the volunteers coordinating the crowds really very well.

Outside you had vendors selling Christmas Plum cakes, and there were so many of them selling cakes, mostly plum ones, in their peculiar way, it seemed quite funny. There weren’t people selling any traditional sweets like navarees and kal kals or even marzipan, just Christmas Plum Cakes.

Finally went to this place called Denny’s (which I learned had been featured on my favourite show Friends quite a bit, which I was not aware of) for breakfast post mass. Kind of reminded me of the trips we had to Mondegear post the midnight mass in Byculla. So had a huge sumptuous American style breakfast at 3 am. And after that it was back home.

Since Christmas ain’t an official holiday, but just a normal working day, so for those who didn’t take a holiday, it’s back to work. So Christmas ends up being very quiet, unlike the Christmas of old, the ones you have in Mumbai. So you end you end up having a quiet, blue Christmas. 

Lost in the Mall... and other Adventures!!!

Have you been lost before??? I know I have as a kid, gotten lost in the crowds of shoppers at Crawford Market, wandering off when toys got this kiddo’s attention, getting a scolding for wandering off on my own, while this boy was in tears. And I did it again last evening, oops I did it again!!! A 40 year old goes wandering off in the mall, leaving the herd, to get a pic of a crystal Christmas tree, having no means to communicate with his pack, nothing quite has changed, or maybe the age and times may have changed but this boy is always the kiddo. So I can cross that off my list, getting lost in a mall on foreign shores, as if getting lost was something I wanted to do.

The Dubai Mall can be quite the crowded and fascinating place. The window displays all decked up for the holidays, sort of drawing you in. You just can’t help but check it out, be all fascinated, like a kid in a candy store, or maybe it’s just all the sweets that have been hogging (after all this boy needs to put on a bit of some holiday weight, only to get rid off it when he’s back). So you can’t help but admire the window displays and the candies (and there they are again).

And so I finally get to meet the great Burj Khalifa in all its glittering glory. A very touristy thing to do. It commands your attention so much that your eyes are planted on it while the buildings next to it feel pale in front of all the glittering of the Burj, even though they are all lit up.

So we stood there and clicked pics with this tallest structure in the world, (something similar I remembered doing when visiting the Petronas Towers in Malaysia ). waiting for the light and fountain show to begin. Boy was the wait worth it, it’s something that you need to be there to experience it, cause words wouldn’t be able measure up to the experience (or maybe I am being a bit too dramatic for my own taste). Got a bit chocked up, teary eyed and emotional witnessing it, or may be it was just because the show was done to  Lady Gaga’s I could never love again, from A Star is Born. I was not prepared for this!

Wish I could share this moment cause it was beautiful, and song only added to it. I hope I can share it soon. Was so transfixed by the fountains that didn’t much notice the light show on the Burj. At the end it was indeed a very touristy thing to do.

Next was a visit to the Dubai Aquarium and Underwater Zoo, and an up close encounter with great white with only a glass separating us apart (as if I would want to swim on the other side), staring into its cold glassy eyes. It sure was a sight to see the sting rays go by overhead, like birds soaring in the sky. And then there was one had you transfixed, like you were staring at very strange face. It was as if you were having a staring competition with a it, you just couldn’t take your eyes away, which in a way scared the bejesus in me, like it had cast a spell on me!!! 

I think it had something to do with the glass cause it felt like you were immersed with the fish, you had this feeling like you were swimming with the fishes, though not literally. So rode a glass bottom boat, getting a view of the aquarium from the top, petted a baby shark, seen jelly fish at very stages of their lives (fascinating creatures they are), saw otters, alligators, crocodiles, and various other critters.

Had a late dinner while staring at kids skating in the ice rink below, so wanting to join them, though not sure I could skate like them, or even skate at all. But then my body clock was past 12 IST and not yet accustomed to Dubai time, so was literally dozing off, as if I needed a reason for it.

So in the end had to put this together a day later, though the words for it was coming to my head. But coming home meant crash landing on the couch, though not before checking messages cause you are finally in a wifi zone. 

In the end the trip has been off to a good start. A bit of adventure, and a whole of fascinating things to do and see. Can’t wait to see what else is in store for this boy on this trip. Awaiting the experience and adventure that is in store. So let’s take it one day at a time.

A Trip... 40 years in the making

 It’s strange how you wait all your life to make it to a place and when you get there it feels, like, ok, very meh. I remember all through my growing years, wanting to come out here and live here, just like my cousins. Used to see the life they had and wanted the same life for myself and my family, ok I was a little selfish kiddo, wanted for myself. But as I grew older (and now I am old) the sheen for the place sort of just slowly faded away, to the extent that I began to feel like yeah, i know I am in Dubai.

I know my mum is all excited about the trip, way more excited than I am, after all she gets to go on her third trip abroad, third trip to Dubai, but most importantly she gets to spend it with all her children. So I guess that without a doubt makes her one happy mumma.

Well not that I am acting sullen about the place, ccbehaving like a grinch. Though my perception of it is that it’s a very artificial, very man made place. But then that’s what I have learned from reading about the place. I need to take it in and then maybe change the way I feel about the place.

Already been gobsmacked by the train ride from the Arrivals gate to immigration, passing through the terminals, past the planes and to immigration and baggage  claims. It was one hell of a ride. And after immigration and baggage claims (and a quick trip to Duty Free), it was great to see my sisters, thus completing the family.

The view from my sister’s apartment sure is spectacular, makes you want to go out and explore. And hey that’s just the start of the holidays, makes you curious of what it has in store for you, what does Dubai have in store for you. So yes in away excited to explore the city and see what Dubai has in store. But in the end, the heart is still in Mumbai.