Sunday 30 December 2012

Jajabara Trips - V (Biking in Odisha)


There were two options, either I stayed at home or frowned or I travelled and be happy. I chose the latter.
I thought about it while packing my bag for this short unplanned road trip on bike. I thought about it while taking shower, while making a phone call to arrange for a bike and while I frantically ransacked the entire house for my pair of glasses which were lying just next to the pillow. I did not have a plan or a map and I had never done this route before. I was alone, but as in the toughest moments of my life, this was my strength. It was a chance that my friend, from whom I had borrowed the bike and almost said goodbye also joined me for the ride, to attend a wedding he had forgotten about. The wedding was in the exact place where I was planning to ride to – Gopalpur-on-sea.

“…when men travel and meet, they talk and think…” – H.G.Wells, A short history of the world.

These lines were echoing in my head while we rode out of the city. It is interesting how when we are travelling on the road, what we eagerly look forward to many times, is a city or town to get fuel, food, sleep, medicines or to get the bike repaired but, most travels start out with this pressing urgency to get out of the city! We got out all right, tanked up the silver coloured Bullet Electra 350-‘the good old bullet’ as my friend Prakash would refer to it.

We stopped first at ‘BataBhuasuni’ which means Goddess of the road. I had once, many years before not stopped by at this temple and went ahead in arrogance but returned with a broken bike, back and ego. It occurred to Prakash that we could have the temple prasad for lunch. The Mother Annapurna fed her children well. The vegetable curry was cooked in mustard oil and has mustard paste in it, the strong smell still fills my nose as I write about it.

The road was the best I have seen in Odisha, riding was very comfortable. The ‘good old bullet’ was really good. It was steady even at 100kmph. The traffic was minimal by NH 5 standards. The afternoon sun was bright and hot but the cool winds of December helped shield some of the impact. My friend had no idea why I was on this trip. He got the first hint when I pulled over to turn to the Narayani temple, 100kms away from Bhubaneswar. The temple was clean and the mountain stream flew right through the temple, from the sanctum sanctum to courtyard all the way to the steps. We drank some of the water and exchanged the driving seat. The road continued to impress and give joy.

There is a small town on this road, known as ‘Tangi’ which means a large open space. That is what the roads would make you feel and you can very well see a good two or three kilometers away. The roads would be inviting you like the open arms of your beloved, to come and embrace them.

After a few kilometres, we came closer to Rambha, a scenic place overlooking Chilika Lake. Prakash has the fortune to drive on this ‘ghaati’ and I had the fortune to soak in all the beauty of the green mountains, black roads, blue sky and blue lake with green and black islands scattered over it. Prakash showed me a sign board and I asked him to pull over. There was a tea shop as well. The sign board was for Oliver Ridley Turtles. A narrow mud-road led to the mouth of river Rushikulya, where the turtles come every year for hatching and breeding around this time of the year. This event is a much-awaited one in the calendar of wildlife enthusiasts and lovers. The tea shop guys told us that we could see some turtles. This was certainly not a part of the plan and I was thrilled to say the least. We did some planning and headed out to Gopalpur-on-sea to find a place to spend the evening and half of the night. We would visit the tea shop again in a few hours but this time slightly angrier.  

We checked in into Swosti Palm Resorts. It was no coincidence that it did not have a ‘Sea’ suffix or prefix with its name. We discovered in the light of the morning that the only thing near that hotel was a large pool of foul-smelling waste. Then we headed out to the beach. It was dark and beautiful, the sky was clear and I could not remember when was the last time I had seen such a clear sky that you could tell one star from another. We roamed around, and exchanged stories that we had not shared for the last 5 years. We had some tea and some really fresh salad, thinly chopped sprouts, tomato, cucumber and onions with half of a lemon squeezed over it! The unmistakable ‘jhaal-mudhi’ followed. 

Prakash still had the Science (actually Zoology) hangover from his college days and I was in ‘I-need-to-get-my-poetry-back’ mode. He explained that the waves were due to temperature difference and that they actually don’t travel from one point to other as they appear. I said that the waves looked as moustaches on the face of the sea-god and that the stars twinkled when the talked. We walked back to our hotel to have dinner. We planned to sleep early after having minced vegetables and rotis for dinner. The pool table was the saving grace of the hotel and it kept us away from our wake-up early plan. I woke up at 2.30 AM, Prakash has not slept at all. We got ready and put on our jackets and helmets. Shoes gave way to slippers as we expected to walk long miles in the sand to watch the rare Oliver Ridley Turtles. It was cold and dark but our spirits were high and we rode at around 70kmph. Prakash was right, the chill of the night affected our speed. We reached the spot on highway soon but then the black magic began.

There were no fellow wildlife or nature lovers, there were no guides or villagers. It was 4AM and the world was doing what it should be-sleeping. The only light was that of our ‘good-old-bullet’ and we could not tell the road from the open fields. We followed the trail and reached a dead-end where we met white bright field and a red broken temple. A strong smell engulfed us along with fear. I could almost see a naked sadhu come out of the temple with something like a head in his hands.

‘Let’s turn back’ I said and turned my back on the temple. I did not want to see a one-eyed, broken-toothed smile greeting me.
‘I think we lost our way here’ Prakash has been here before and was trying hard to remember the right way.
We went ahead and soon we had a surprise company.
‘Look. A black hare’ Prakash shouted.
It was black hare, which was in a hurry. Though the road was full of stones and mud, it still allowed us a speed of 30-40kmph. The hare was faster. It was as if it was sent to us to lead us to the river mouth.
I would not have been surprised if the hare stopped and her mistress in stood there with a Dalmatian and a magic wand. Well, our guide disappeared at the next crossroad, leaving us to figure out the rest of the road. 

We lost our way again, Prakash’s past memory and present sense vying with each other. We finally reached the point, but there was no one.
‘The turtles won’t be here for another month or so’ a villager informed us as he came from the sea.

What was he doing in the sea all night? I was curious to look into his bag, but avoided the temptation. As we were discussing whether to head ahead, wait or get back, there was a sudden brightness behind us. First one and then two, three flames lit up. We turned back and saw three women besides the fires.
They were more fluent in Telegu than Oriya. They were cooking rice for their husbands which would be their breakfast and lunch both. They also confirmed that we were too early for the turtles. We tried to not get disappointed.
‘It was thrilling. I have made my first night ride’ I said.
‘The hare would be my take away!’ Prakash added as he laughed.

We decided to watch the sunrise from the Gopalpur beach and this time I was on the driver’s seat. It was meditative. The silence and the chill of the night, the darkness rendering an eerie uniformity to the landscape sent me to a meditative mood. Prakash was on alert thankfully and gave a timely pat to show me a diversion we approached in a hurry.
‘Keep your eye on the yellow indicators or the white line’
‘Ohh. Thanks.’ I followed this useful advice. 
It was still very dark when we reached Gopalpur but the horizon was a spectacle beyond words. It was as if a painter was preparing his canvas. It was lit with blue and red colors. The rest of the sky was pitch black with beautiful stars shining.
We decided to simply wait for the sunrise there.
‘Sunrise is at 5.45 AM’ Prakash informed.
‘Says who?’
‘Google!’ He smiled.

The sky slowly changed its colour-from the horizon to the centre. The morning clouds added the extra hues. It was well-past 5.45, but there was no sign of the sun. I was beginning to wonder if ever I would behold a sunrise over the Bay of Bengal. I had tried many times to witness the spectacle which my mother described something as ‘popping out of a ball from a child’s hand’, but had not succeeded. On some occasions, it was morning mist, on other it was long queues at gas stations and on yet another occasion, it was having an over-enthusiast photographer-friend for a driver, who decided to click palm trees on the road instead of sun-over-sea.

It was truly rewarding to say the least. The red sun turning to orange and finally yellow and all the while warming our bodies, hearts and mood. It was like the sky pouring out the wine of the sun to the glass of our souls. We carried the warmth and goodness to the huge red and white lighthouse. There was an abandoned project site with lovely stonework to match the images of ‘postcards from Europe’. We did some posing, not to miss out on the photo-opp.

We checked back into our hotel and played another round of pool accompanied by nice brown-black tea with strong aroma of ginger. We took shower and headed out for the religious part of the trip. First, it was the trip not planned to Dhabaleshwar – Shiva temple on beach and next it was to the temple of Mother Tatatarini on the hill-top.

We rode back to Bhubaneswar after a sumptuous wedding feast we had for our lunch. It was one of the most tasty wedding feasts I have had in recent times. We rode non-stop for three hours before stopping for tea and snacks. It was fast but steady riding with average speed of around 90kmph. The city lights and backlights of vehicles on the highway signaled the ‘same old world’ feeling. ‘Same old world’ of compulsions, delusions, confusions, emotions, duties, explanations and gumption (word borrowed from Zen and art of Motorcyle maintenance) of a different kind.

Saturday 29 December 2012

I DO NOT die!!!

This is a protest against everything that happened to the 23 year old young girl who was gang-raped in New Delhi and who succumbed to her injuries today. I chose the easier way-writing, than people who are on streets and expressing their protest, anger, grief and solidarity.
---

I DO NOT Die!

You may stifle my voice,
Choke my throat with iron hands,
Gag my mouth with black clothes of your party flags.
But my voice will resound and resonate
From the Gates and Hills,
Through thousands of mouths,
Thorough millions of hearts,
Of my sisters, brothers, fathers and mothers
Who are just like Me.

You may batter my body,
Infect it with pestilence and gangrene, 
Shift it to foreign lands,
To die with the darkness of the night. 
But, my spirit will shine in strength and brightness
Like the Sun and blind you,
You who are hiding behind
Your sun-glasses of hypocrisy. 

You may stab my heart
With knives of bestiality,
You may thrash my limbs
With sticks of lies and false promises,
You may cut my stomach
With bloody swords of accusations,
You may bury my shattered body
Under the cold mud and grovel of politics.
But, you can not kill me.

You may try to drown 
The rising waves of my spirit by water canons,
You may use gas to make me cry 
And make my vision blurry.
But, try as hard you can,
You, the hideous, heinous,
Abominable, abase character of every man,
I must let you know,
I am a free soul
Soaring high in open skies,
I am a free soul,
I did not die,
I DO NOT die!