Tagged: friends

02:15 am, National Highway 63, around 15 kilometers before Hubli…

A Mahindra Bolero screeched to a stand-still on the other side of the road. As we got out of the vehicle, I could see 2 burly guys in white shirts holding something that looked like a hockey stick. My skin went pale and I could feel a cold chill pass through my spine. Scared to death, but the first thing I thought of? ‘Finally, the “blog” incident I needed for this trip!’

Two days earlier…

This was going to be my third Goa trip in 6 months. But I was always thrilled by Goa’s atmosphere, moreover we were driving and it was my first chance to try the Scorpio. So I could safely say that I was all excited in anticipation.

For the onward journey, we had taken a rather unconventional route from Bangalore, via Belgaum into Maharashtra (Sawantwadi) and then to Goa. The roads were narrow and mountainous after we crossed the Maharashtra border. But it was decently maintained and had low traffic with the added plus of a scenic drive through the villages and mountains. We reached Goa by about 10. The next two days was spent on experiencing the things that you come to Goa for - the beaches and the booze! My co-travelers were also much luckier than me with the casinos and managed to win around 5k!

But the real adventure started after we left Goa. We took the more standard route back, via Karwar and Hubli. Somewhere on the forest roads towards Hubli, after Yellapur, our headlights started to dim out. We first thought the battery had gone weak and then realized that the alternator had burnt out. The electrical systems in the car started failing one by one and finally our headlights were gone and we were left with just one feeble park-light. There were no big settlements before reaching Hubli, which was still around 50-60 kms away. It was already 11PM and our best chance would have been to get to Hubli somehow and find a mechanic there. So we stuck to the first truck we could find with a proper enough backlight and tailed along with it, with no lights of our own at all.

After a few kilometers of tagging along, the truck driver in front of us stopped as he realized that we were in trouble. He came to have a look but there was nothing he could fix. Hubli was still 25 km away and the driver told us to keep following him, and that he’ll guide us to Hubli. So we went along. 10 km ahead and our engine cut off. There was not enough power to even drive the control unit of the engine. Tough luck. The same technology that is bread and butter for me via Bosch, made us get stuck in the middle of nowhere.

We asked the truck driver to carry on, since there was nothing more he could do. We pushed the car to the side of the road and tried in vain to reach everyone (the limited few) whom we knew of, in Hubli. We called up the Hubli traffic police and informed them of our situation. But they couldn’t do anything either till morning. We couldn’t even lock the car, because the battery didn’t have enough power to roll the car windows back up. We were basically stuck; without food or water till morning which was still 8 hours away. So we set up camp inside the car. The mood was still ok, with everyone joking about all that happened. Then came the Bolero; just after 2 o’clock while we were still sitting and chatting.

…

The two big guys rushed towards us and asked me something in Kannada. I told him I don’t understand the language very well. He gave me a cold stare, and then proceeded to go through all of our luggage. We (atleast me) were still scared to speak much. Suddenly as the Bolero moved to cross the road into our side, I noticed a green board with the lettering ‘Police’. I breathed a big sigh of relief! They asked us a lot of questions and still looked very intimidating. They told us that the road is not very safe, but what could we do - we cannot abandon the car there and go. They told us to stay there at our own risk and then get a mechanic in the morning. Then they took away 3 bottles of port wine that we had bought in Goa telling that it wasn’t legal (my @#%#)! But loosing a bit of wine was way better than what I had thought would happen initially; so it wasn’t that bad ;). We were terribly disappointed by the attitude they showed to us; though. Not even showing a hint of helpfulness.

After this incident I guess we all started to get tense. Only then we started to realize how much of a risk we were taking staying at that place. There were too many what-ifs running through my mind. What if the an overtaking truck knock us off the highway? What if a group of thugs come and beat us up? etc etc. I couldn’t sleep for even a bit, till the sun came back out.

Morning came as a relief of all of us. Ranjith suggested that we push start the vehicle. It didn’t seem a great idea to me; since the engine could cut off while running at any moment the battery dies out. But we decided to try and then limp ahead to Hubli some 15 more kilometers ahead. We pulled out all the equipment that could take away even a milliamp of power - the horn, the music system, the brake-light, the indicators - everything, leaving the engine control unit all the bits of power it could get to make the engine running for atleast 30 minutes. We push started the car and went as fast as we could to Hubli. And we made it! 8.30 am and we were finally back in civilization and in the Hubli railway station parking lot. We got a mechanic to repair our alternator. It took us 5 or 6 more hours; but finally we had the car repaired; all roaring to go. No worries left, we reached Bangalore, just before midnight.

All’s well that ends well!

Map of the route we took. Marker ‘F’ is approximately the place we got stuck.

Goa photos coming soon!

Thursday night. I had gone to sleep quite early thanks to a darned headache. I heard the landline ring. Irritated again that people call to the stupid landline rather than to my mobile (technology has grown, wake-up sheeple!), I got up and picked up the call. It was Bachu, my roommate, all excited telling me that if I don’t want to miss Sachin’s 200 better come fast to Shyam’s house (we are a TV-free home, you see). So I get dressed quickly and run to our very own homely sports-bar.

There’s some excitement going on in there as I reached. Sachin has reached somewhere around 170, Bachu is yelling trivial anecdotes about Sachin, Tony’s not combing his hair or looking at the mirror and even Shyam’s not playing TF2! That was when I knew this was going to be something special. So I took a seat and joined in. As soon as I sat down, Raina gets out. Hmm.. I thought I brought my bad luck with me. Boy! Was I right.

The game was taking interesting directions; with Ravindra Jadeja keen on taking singles every last ball of an over and not giving the strike to Sachin; when I first noticed an unlikely visitor in the kitchen. A pretty big rat; let’s say the biggest I have seen; not that I have seen many. I announced our royal visitor to the other friends in the room; and the usually cool Shyam all freaked out. “Oh! Its going to bite me when I’m sleeping. I’m going to get swine-flu and stuff”.. hmm.. swine-flu from a rat? Well, let’s discuss that later.

So we decide to fight this guy. And by chance it got trapped inside one of the plastic carry-bags lying around. The rest of the party wanted to kill the rat; but I somehow found a bit of compassion towards the animal and convinced them not to do it. Since the rest of us had an excuse that we didn’t have shoes on; we assigned the task of capturing the rat in the bag to Tony. Naturally the rat gnawed away the other end of the sheet and was on its way to its next hiding place.

Meanwhile in TVLand: Tendulkar has no chance to reach 200; but India can still win. If only Mr. Jadeja gave some strike to him. We are all in a dillema now whether to watch the TV or mind the rat. Every 3 balls or so, the little guy would peep out from its hiding place and as soon as we make the slightest of movements; it would go right back in. This hide and seek continued for a while… and then the unthinkable happened … Tendulkar got out

While we were mourning the departure of Sachin, our hero peeps out from his hiding place and runs right into the sink drain. Sensing the kill, the brave Tony Thomas strides in for the final act and closes the drain with a mosaic tile in pure ‘Quick-Gun Murugun’ style. That’ll do, we all thought. Shyam runs out to get something to seal our hero shut. But alas before he reached, the little guy, amasses all the power he has; slides out the tile; rushes out; and winks at us proudly for the effort (ok it didn’t; but I’m sure it would have, if it could).

The Indians are sinking to deeper trouble; while the rat is still playing hide-and-seek with us. Finally we managed to trick it to go back to the drain. Everybody quickly swings into action and we trap that darn rat finally. Victorious we set our focus back on the tv set. India may have lost by 3 runs and Sachin may not have hit a double-ton; but we did win our chase against the rat!

So what’s so blog-able about this? Small moments like this; tend to be lost in bigger memories of the past. I just wanted to treasure a few ‘big’ small moments… so that I can be all nostalgic in the future

It is a very strange point in my life now. I turn 25 in less than 2 weeks; and if you ask me: Am I what I wanted to be at 25? I am undecided.

This is a season of changes for me. Friends getting married; people going off far far away; my parents almost into retirement. And me? Well; I am just going where the wind takes me; rudderless. I suppose that’s not how it should be once you are 25. You need to have a sense of direction I suppose; but even as I write that; it is extremely difficult for my mind to consider that reality. My friends tell me I still act like a teenager sometimes and some others say I act like a 50 year old. Maybe they are right. But what’s a 25 year old supposed to act like? Well - I am even more confused.

The easy-go attitude seems to be very difficult to shake off for me. Nothing affects me profoundly; despite my outer mask suggesting otherwise. You call me; I always pick up. There’s no bad moment to talk to me. I have seen many people tell; this is a bad time to talk. But honestly I don’t remember a moment (ok one; but that’s it!) when I’ve said that. Others of my age have already started tackling life’s difficult tasks and they already have had that turning point but I am somehow stuck. I started building a house on my own (”my own” is relative) and I thought such a huge responsibility would mean that would make my life change. But it didn’t. Even that for me seems to be a snippet for conversation with my friends and nothing more. It doesn’t give me the tension I wanted it to give me. But no. Not even that. Some people say that’s a good thing; but no; not for me. I am bored; I need some stress to cure it I suppose and to feel like not being an alien in a strange planet.

I have a job I like (despite peer pressure to not; hating your job seems to be in-fashion); I have a steady income; I am surrounded by friends; I have a supportive family and my problems are miniscule compared to others’. Even then I feel incomplete. Every single day; even the productive ones; even the entertaining ones; seems to be one more day wasted. But “wasted” vs what? I am unable to define that.

Is this my quarter life crisis? I think so… and I have no clue as to what the remedy is. Here’s going back to where the wind takes me… see you at the next place I crash into.

Went for a trip to Nandi Hills early in the morning today. We wanted to see the sunrise there, and we were lucky enough to reach there on time for that. Contrary to my expectations, it was a real nice place indeed. So close to Bangalore, yet so far from the hustle and bustle. Too lazy to write a long blog post, so I leave you with some pics. Didn’t come out as good as I expected, but trust me, it was more beautiful than what the photos could record.

Photo Credits: Espresso and Me!

About two things that I happened to notice…

One
My workplace is on the eleventh floor of my office building. Therefore the lift is an integral part of our daily routine. The lifts here have these operator guys who are inside these boxes for hours together doing a pretty mundane job. I wonder how they manage it, because we the ‘elite techies’ get frustrated if the lift stops at more than one intermediate floor. It must be such a frustrating and thankless job that they are doing.

Then I started noticing Gayathri (my colleague, classmate, friend and ‘G’ on this blog) say ‘Thank you’ each time she got out of the lift. I didn’t think much about it then, but the other day after giving it some thought I realized the value of such a simple statement. It would make their day so much better. The power of one simple gesture! I have had differences with her attitude, with her behaviour many a time, but I admire her for all these little things she does And now I know why every time she gets in the lift, the operator always knows to press the 11th Floor button without her telling him and why that seldom happens to me. A small lesson in inter-personal relationships…

Two
The other day, my friend Ranjith got a call from one of our mutual friends. They had not spoken for a very long time and she said that age old excuse - ‘Was so busy, didn’t get the time’. Then he said something back that struck me then and there. ‘You can’t spare five minutes of your time for a friend? That’s the worst response to that’. It really is when you come to think of it. Aren’t your friends worth atleast 5 minutes of your time? If they are not well there’s trouble. He may have said that just for the sake of responding. But it did make me think a lot. Staying in touch is a virtue difficult to attain and I believe if you manage to do it, it is the armour to have against the bumps on the road in your life. You never know… sometimes the person whom you least expect to, would be the only one there for you. So its always better to keep the numbers high

We planned and even started off the latest in the series of ‘Keeral’ trips with the destination set to Goa. We even booked a place to stay there for a change, but circumstances (to be specific ‘Traffic’ and professional unpunctuality) made us end up at Chikmagalur, a good 700 kilometres away! First of all, we were left hung out to dry by some idiot in Calicut who had promised to rent us an Innova. We were delayed by around 8 hours when finally we managed to get a replacement car (a Qualis!). The plan was that Kurian and Hazer drove to Bangalore, meet the rest of the gang here and leave in the evening. But we ended up leaving Bangalore at 11.30 PM instead. And to our luck all the roads were jam packed with lorries and buses owing to the Diwali rush. So we made a quick decision to change routes and head towards Chikmagalur without having much of an idea about what to expect there.

Bad luck didn’t seem to end with the traffic though. It was around 5am now and I had been driving for around 3hrs and thinking about handing over the wheel to Hazer. But then the roads became suddenly better and I thought maybe a little bit more. Well bad judgement! As we were cruising along the superb roads, suddenly a huge gutter appeared from nowhere and before anything could be done, the car was in it with a huge thud. I knew something was wrong then and there as the steering suddenly had a jerk. We had to stop and luckily the town of Hassan was just 4 km away. We decided to limp on till there and get help. But that would mean another 3 or 4 more hours lost because the earliest of the earliest workshop guy would open shop max at 9. So we decided to do a gamble and change the front tyres because we had a feeling that the problem was that the wheel-rim was bent. Bad luck didn’t end there either, we did not have a lifting jack in the car to prop it up and change tyres. A good lorry driver lent us one though and we managed to do it and bingo problem solved!

The road from Hassan to Chikmagalur was awesome and picturesque. We stopped over at the town, had our breakfast, still having no clue as to what to do next. We called up Kurians friend and he told us about a few worthwhile places around. So we set off to the first one in the list - ‘Kemmangundi’. The road was all kaput, but the spectacular vistas made up for it more than enough. It took us a lot of time to traverse the 50 km to the place, but I would say it was great to be forced to drive slow as we could soak in the brilliant atmosphere around. We booked a place to stay there and head off to a place called ‘Point Z’. The road was motorable only for a little bit and after that you have to trek. I went along for a while but seeing the steepness of the mountains to climb I chickened out and went back to the car while the others continued. It wasn’t much of a miss though, since the peak was covered with mist. The one hour I spent waiting in the car was a totally different experience! It was mystical, alone in the forest, no access to mobile networks, knowing the nearest human is at least 5km away. I tried to soak in the experience as much as I could before my tiredness got the better off me and pushed me to sleep.

The night was spent in a dilapidated cottage playing cards and gossiping. Two years on and we still had something about college to talk about! The food was not that great and damn expensive - but that didn’t stop us from spending close to a thousand bucks there! The other major incident was the fight against the leeches. Each time somebody removes one from his leg, the next guy would start yelling ‘Leech!’ It seemed to go on endlessly. After a lot of blood and a lot of salt we managed to win the battle (it seemed).

Next day morning the plan was laid to go off to Kudremukh. We stopped over again at Chikmagalur town to have lunch and continued on to the next leg of the trip. We ended up driving most of the day, but again the roads were good and the surroundings smashtacular! At Kudremukh we went to this place called as Gangamoola which is the place were the mighty Tungabhadra river starts. It was again a nice place, but with more leeches. This time we were more careful and didn’t let too many of the slimy little things to prey on us. The only place to stay in Kudremukh is a forest department dormitory unless you are an employee of the iron ore company there. It was a very cheap option and also had the added thrill of staying right in the middle of the forest, though nothing noteworthy really happened there.

Next day was an early start since the guys had to reach back in Calicut by atleast 8PM before dropping us in Mysore. The roads again were beautiful by all means. We were able to do 200 km easily in 2-2.5 hours. By lunch time we had reached Mysore, had food at a mallu hotel there and it was time for us to split. Being totally unplanned we weren’t able to enjoy all the places to the fullest. We calculated that out of the 84 hours of the trip, around 50 was spent driving! But I’m not complaining at all! All the places we went to had a lot more to offer and I’m sure we’ll be back, well prepared next time!

Album @ Picasa