Cutting Loose

I travel a whole lot in case you hadn’t noticed. For leisure and for work, and have been doing so for over two decades. That’s nearly as much time as I spent trying to get formally educated. No points for guessing which one was more edifying. It should come as no surprise then that life-on-the-road has begotten me opinion-altering epiphanies and copious amounts of perspicacity much in the same manner as life-as-usual has for others.

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Pulling rank on a 4×4-wielding younger relative was never more fun. Especially when it meant making the acquaintance of a road never travelled. That he himself is an off-roading enthusiast meant the proverbial gun to the head would remain cable-locked.

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Conservatory conversations – Raja, Uttam, Lama, Shalini

They should have called them Hook, Line, and Sinker. For, have no doubt, you will be falling for them. I refer to the reception turn-out at a recent home-stay experience in Bhowali, a short, mostly pretty drive away from Nainital, Bhimtal and Sattal. Flowery garlands, aromatic sprinkles, exotic drinks, refreshing wipes, gel-coiffed cheery staff, step aside. Nothing quite says ‘Welcome’ like a woof, a wag, and a…whoa…slurp! If you disagree, read no further, because this post is about the house where Raja, Lama, and Cyber live.

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Outside Old Courts, Nabha

Early on in February this year a motley lot largely comprising Europeans was spotted excitedly finding its way around the flatlands of Punjab. Somewhat out of character, one would say, as the state as a whole is not known to be a destination for mass tourism or group travel. Excepting, of course, sundry jathas headed to one or more of its historical or popular places of faith, which is generally a domestic movement with the odd NRI family thrown in.

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Nothing in the bumpy ride from a desultory train station to your hotel quite prepares you for the whimsy-wonder that is Churu. On the face of it, it is just another unexceptional town fringing the Great Thar largely notorious for mercurial swings ranging from near freezing point to hovering around the 50 degrees mark in high summer.

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Determined doer

Were I to pick a single indelible impression from my visit to Hyderabad last year, the genteel mien of an indomitable Suraiya Hassan Bose jumps promptly to attention. A spry eighty-something who has devoted the past three decades of her life to reviving Persian textiles. For the most part, unaided.

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Dear Peeved Mountain-loving Subscriber,

This one is for you. Just this once. For no reason other than that I empathise with your yearning for a topography nonpareil; indeed my bailiwick.

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