Panorama

Starred

2007-09-25T11:00:00.000-07:00

Drifting Life

2007-09-25T10:49:00.000-07:00

Reverie at Dusk

2006-12-24T12:00:00.000-08:00

Flitting Delight

2006-12-24T11:59:00.000-08:00

Kissing the Skies

2006-12-24T11:58:00.000-08:00

Afloat

2006-12-24T11:57:00.000-08:00

Corbett's House

2006-12-24T11:43:00.000-08:00

Frame One

2006-12-24T11:39:00.000-08:00

November in Nainital...

The Stormy Air

2006-11-05T09:47:00.000-08:00

Lotus Pond and the Biscuit Factory

2006-10-25T08:12:00.000-07:00

Among the indelible imprints on my mind, is the time I spent as a child at Nimapara, a district of Puri in Orissa. Our house was just along the bank of a large pond, which abounded with crimson lotuses, white water lilies and big fresh water fishes. In the centre of the river, rose an old rock carved structure. To me it always resembled the Konark, the great chariot of the sun, albeit a miniature in this case. Perhaps it was once built by a king. Puri, after all is the land of Jagannath, a place standing for architectural marvel. On certain mornings, special occasions and festivals, people came to pluck lotuses from the pond, for the temples nearby and their homes. In my heart, of course, I always cherished the desire to have a lotus blossom with myself.

It was an idle life that people led, with occasional spurts of pace, showing up in times of festivals or customary visits by guests. Opposite the river, was a bus stand along the main road, which teemed with a variety of shops, including many sweet shops, the crowd, the din. This combination of the natural and the manmade was strikingly quaint. It is simply impossible for me to forget the modest biscuit factory near our house. On mornings whenever I went passed the lane along it, often frolicking around, exploring the green environs, I invariably got lost in a heavenly aroma. The owners were a family, of whom I remember the old lady, who always offered me freshly baked biscuits to eat. These delicious biscuits were always shaped like a lion, or a horse, or a fish or some other animal, and I can remember that they were a pale peach colour. The warm whiff of these biscuits is still clear in my mind, perhaps never to go.

Sunday October 22, 2006

Unbound

2006-05-12T07:58:00.000-07:00

Post Script

2005-11-09T08:45:00.000-08:00

Well, so I have been thinking on how to go about this. Finally I realize that my narration may not strictly have a chronology, though it will have some, as far as it is possible. So I'll begin with something that simply occurs to my mind and then go back and forth [though that may not be the usual style of a travelogue!]

On Panorama

2005-11-05T04:24:00.000-08:00

For a long time I have felt like writing down snippets of the travels I have made since a child. Finally, may be this is a way of reliving some of my deepest, larger than life memories, a glimpse of those penetrating images that are somehow etched in my mind, including sketchy details that may seem trivial, or uninteresting, and yet are intensely experiential, even retaining some of the smells and tastes apart from the visual core. My resources are, of course, my recollections and (more tangibly) the odd scraps of notes made during these visits.

Voyage

2005-11-05T03:22:00.000-08:00

20.5.2001

Past the plains. Streets and lanes. Dry and scorching. Hot and parching. Hustling, bustling. Cities and towns. Plateaus, pastures. Rivers and mounds. Rising waves. Beckoning sea. Spray of surf. Swaying trees. Milling kids. Drenching rain. Paddy fields. Rushing train. Distant hills. Gurgling streams. Clouds and dew…

Lovely dreams. Fervent wish. To jump and run. Swim and wade. Walk and swing. Plunge and fly. Into the blue. With the green. Smell the full. Blooms of red. Feel the snow. The sand, the shells. Hear the rain. Koel’s call. Croak of frog Chiming bells. Rustle of leaves . See the magic. That nature weaves.

Journey

2005-11-04T04:01:00.000-08:00

8.10.94

On a bright sunny day, we went to the hill, but in the middle, it started to rain.

It rained and rained.. while we took shelter in a big crowded temple. And then there fell hailstones on the ground like crystals and pearls. So it seemed as though the rain was never going to stop.

But we were wrong because after an hour the sun came up from behind the clouds.
And the day became as clear as it was.

Thereafter we stood up again and started for the hill, where we couldn’t go before because of the rain!