So what is it about the holiday season that has us all perked up? While in the USA, and most parts of the outside world, holiday season dawns around Christmas and New Year’s. But in India, holiday season translates into the break that we get around Diwali. But of course we are Indian and we love to celebrate! So with the same fervor as we celebrate Dusshera and the Festival of Lights... we also hop around when New Year’s comes along. People apply for offs in their offices, make travel plans, get excited on Christmas eve and are part of a big party on New Year’s night.

Getting drunk and happy is a fad, new winter clothes are purchased to flaunt, families go on an overdrive and install Christmas trees (‘install’ too mechanical a word?), teach their children about Santa and his stockings, have family dinners and rum cakes. All a big package of happiness. While on most years I am clueless about my plans and hate the festive season... this year I am happy.

When I was a child, my relatives from the great United States of America gifted me a huge 5-book collection of Santa stories in a giant book jacket... packed up like a gift. That green, 100 by 100 inches box (I am not kidding), was the most prized possession of my yesteryears. I held it close to my heart, showed it off to my friends and read each book carefully... turning one banana leaf discreetly after the other, to absorb and memorize each line. I learnt about Santa, his habitat, reindeers, mistletoes, stockings, chimneys, sleighs, Antarctica, decorations, confetti, rum and fig cakes... all from those five precious books. The last page of the fifth book had a full two page rendition of ‘Jingle Bells’ and my toes would stand up for a tap dance each time I read it. Now as an adult, I might have misplaced my box-set... but fond memories remain. The feel of those creamy pages and the smell of freshness linger in my head. I was blessed with a colour-filled and playful childhood. Touché.

Having attended a fancy school where conversing in English right from the first grade was a fad (we were punished if someone was heard talking in Hindi), the Christmas (and subsequently New Year’s) festivities lingered on. In my fourth grade, I would hang a sparkling white stocking with my gift wish-list scribbled and stuffed inside it, on the doorknob. But to my disappointment, there would be no gifs in the morning. That was because my parents were blissfully unaware of any such activity going on in my room as me and my brother both had a separate room to ourselves. So sadness dawdled there.

But that didn’t stop me from pestering my father to get us the most baroque New Year’s reservations. While in some years he would succumb to that demand and spend oodles of money getting us a good spot... in the others, we would have street golgappas at midnight, or be snuggled in our beds watching New Year’s programming on TV. In one of those years, SaReGaMa was big and I have clear recollections of watching Anu Kapoor usher us into the New Year with his cheerful voice.

Last year, I was lucky enough to spend both Christmas and New Year’s in the Big Apple. The place to be - NEW YORK CITY. Eat your hearts out. Amazon Kindle as my gift, Times Square on 31^st midnight and an American Diner for dinner. Total and absolute bliss. In the Americas, this time of the year is angelic. Most major tech companies launch their line of new advanced tech offerings to woo the buyers. And it’s a shopper’s delight to indulge in the joys of the latest iPhone or iPad, Amazon Kindle Fire or Barnes and Noble’s Nook. They are everywhere and if you don’t bag one, your New Year’s sucked.

The ‘Food’ around Christmas - means different things to different people. To me, it’s a lot of cakes and wines. And chocolates! Who can forget the chocolates?! Molten, brown, white, dark, bitter, sweet, Belgian, desi, etc. No end to this list. The more the merrier. Ho ho ho.

The ‘Clothes’ – India or abroad, there are HUGE discounts on clothing in this season. Latest fashion brands selling at cheesecake rates. Or hot bread rates. Or hot dog rates. Best time to hoard them, wear them, buy some, throw some more (money) and hoard some again for the rest of the winters. Victoria’s Secret, Louis Vuitton, Van Heusen, Gucci, Jimmy Choo and Ray Ban. Time to get the best deals on everything!

The ‘Movies’ – Oscar and Grammy nominations are released. And the best movies of Hollywood hit the screens in this month. For 2011, the list is as impressive with – Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol, Sherlock Holmes 2, The Descendants, Ides of March, The Iron Lady, etc. I have watched the ones that have released and have plans too for watching the rest of them. The list last year was as glorious with cinematic gems like – The King’s Speech, The Black Swan, Rabbit Hole – being doled out. Then too, I watched each and every one of them, including a Spanish film ‘Biutiful’.

So in conclusion, as I sit here in the yellow glow of my room’s lighting, snug in a blanket on a crisp white winter Christmas morning, I revel in the celebratory aura that hangs in the air. I shall visit the fanciest mall in Delhi to gawk at their biggest Christmas tree, have a rum cake, walk in the evening cold and finally end the day with a few drinks to warm up. Merry Christmas to ye all :) Tons to do this year!

Unlike several other countries in the world, the meaning of ‘wedding’ in the Indian context is very different. It encompasses every other factor, other than the willingness of the boy or the girl. In the ‘arranged wedding’ scenario, a concept largely ridiculed in the west, the boy and the girl are simply expected to wed as strangers and then fall in love. If any differences or incompatibilities arise later... the duo is expected to reconcile to them within four walls. Because like the couple once obliged to fall in love with the person of their parent’s choice, they are also expected to tow their lines in terms of what KIND of person they have to get used to.

I am not suggesting that such matches are always forced or that they always end up failing. A good amount of them even manage to work. But all elders in this country have got to understand that there are only a certain ‘type’ of people you can expect to put up with this arrangement. I am a journalist and I have always lived life on my own terms. Owing to adequate financial independence that I have experienced in recent years, I feel I am fairly equipped to pick my own match. And to stick to that choice and live it through, because at least at the end of the day, it is still MY decision that I am putting up with. And the decision was not made for me by somebody else. It can go wrong and things can fall apart, but that way I have at least not smothered my wishes, just to be ‘socially acceptable’. Nor have I wrapped myself up as a candy to be presented to a ‘market’ of suitable boys (don’t know what mind-fucked people come to do that kind of bidding). And I would own full responsibility for my actions.

Which brings us to the moot point of which ‘kind’ of people agree to enter the ‘arranged marriage’ scenario. This is the breed that has either loved their family way too much, more than anything else, to ever fall as much in love with anybody else. Or the variety that feels it is not in their ‘culture’ to disregard what their parents ask them to do. Now the second variety worries me the most. Because these are the same people who can never say ‘no’ to anything that is asked of them. ‘Marry him/her’... yes. ‘Have babies with them now’... yes. ‘He is cheating on you? Put up with it. Marriage is all about compromises’... yes. ‘You feel you are incompatible? Manage it... it’s your life and he/she is your spouse. Get used to them’... yes. The ‘yes-saga’ has no end but lifelong implications of this can be catastrophic. People tend to become subdued, reserved, irritable, irrational, non-objective... and ultimately end up sleeping in different rooms. Because in their words... their natures ‘never matched’. I might sound a little extreme but the crux of my argument shall come to life only if such extremities are cited.

On the other hand, people who marry out of ‘love’ are less likely to end up in different bedrooms. They have known each other, had their say, known their expectations and most importantly, the onus lies on them to make it work. Because they made their own choice. The learning of making a love-marriage work is the learning of a lifetime. You live with your ‘decision’ everyday. Wake up with them, sleep with them and grow with them. The learning might be sweet or it might be bitter, but it is of your own making. And it shall always remain that way. Everybody makes mistakes in their youth and the Indian parents need to allow their kids to make those ‘mistakes’ once. They might work or they might not. But there is never the added pressure of not having other avenues or exits. These ‘mistakes’ teach one to be independent in life, and responsible, for all things that happen to them or are made to happen.

A marriage is more than just about maintaining social standing or stature. And children are more than just mere badges that parents can pin-up on their shoulders. Nor are children means for parents to live the kind of lives that they never lived on their own. The two parties in a married couple eventually have to cope with their own lives, and the easier it is made for them, the better. At a basic level, the voices that advocate ‘own match picking’ need to be heard. Being ‘liberal’ has always been the way forward and by holding old customs or traditions very close to the heart, folks today are being insensitive to the needs of the times. They have to be more supportive and respectful of their children’s wishes. Times have changed and they can’t dictate rules about how lives should be lived. Honour-killings should be stopped and a thought has to be spared to what makes your own flesh-and-blood happy. For there is no substitute for consensual coexistence to give life to the ‘happily ever after’...

To catch the snow in New York City had been my muse since 2002. That was the year I had to return from a trip just as the city was about to witness the first snowfall of the season. That wish got fulfilled in 2011. Just as I was returning from a dream-like visit to WWE Raw Worldwide in Madison Square Garden (New York) to our temporary set-up in a New Jersey hotel, it snowed. But little did I know that almost a decade worth of wait wasn’t going to ensure an easy night in the face of an actual snowstorm... and I was not prepared for what ensued.

6.30PM

Borders Bookstore, 7^th Avenue and 33^rd Street, New York

The first few flakes of snow appeared as I sat at Borders and sipped hot coffee. There was also a hot muffin keeping me company. Looking out of the big glass pane, I thought about how beautiful Manhattan looked, how the thin sheet of snow was slowly covering the parked cars and how chilly the air was outside. I was waiting for the entry gates to open for WWE (more on that experience in a later post). The multi-storeyed bookshop was abuzz with people mostly waiting to attend the same event. I sat peacefully, enjoyed the snow and savoured my hot cuppa.

7PM

Madison Square Garden, New York

I stepped out of Borders and started my short walk towards Madison Square Garden. The air was indeed freezing and I had to cover myself with a sweater, flaming pink jacket, earmuffs, thick gloves (only available in NY... for NY), socks, heavy black boots and a very woollen muffler to keep myself from getting a frostbite. The walk was short, but bitterly cold. The sight of the blooming city kept my spirits alive amidst the rapidly increasing snowfall. At this point I will admit that the worrying thought of having to drive our car through the mounting snow did cross my mind.

10.30PM

Another short walk from Madison Square Garden to Penn Station

The plan was to take a train ride to New Jersey, pick the parked car, and drive to the temporary hotel before passing out fitfully in the cosy bed. Upon stepping out from Madison Square Garden, the sight that greeted me was of snowy white bliss, yes, but also sheer horror at the almost six-inches of snow that has fallen in a little less than 4 hours. And still mounting/counting. While the thought of spending the night in New York and avoiding a dreadful drive in the snow did cross my mind, the monetary considerations of implementing this idea held me back. And the car drive was unavoidable... the quicker the better, before an entire night of heavy snow totally buried the car under clusters of sinfully white ice.

I reluctantly boarded the train to New Jersey (NJ Transit trains, they call them) and waited for it to move. The same crowd from WWE followed me into the train. To see warm faces was reassuring, but the scenes outside when the train started moving were deeply depressing. Empty roads at almost 11 at night. Snow-sheets draining out almost all signs of activity, or even life, from an otherwise pretty countryside. I crossed my fingers and prayed for the best. The ghastly images of my car covered in snow filled my mind and I tried to push them away. I wasn’t equipped to deal with this. A midnight maverick adventure was about to go horribly wrong. Well, almost.

The train came to a screeching halt at the station and I quickly gathered my belongings (including a sponge ‘No.1 John Cena’ hand figure that I had waved shamelessly through the game) and stepped out into the station. The sights that followed were no respite either. The snowfall had quickly assumed the proportions of a blizzard now. The walk from the train station to my car was almost the longest walk of my life. And the first emotions of dread were starting to creep in. To walk against the freezing wind was impossible and I dragged myself on, with my boots sinking deep into the mountains of snow. I also encountered a policeman screaming at a couple, and also helping them alongside, to wade through the snow. I secretly hoped that I wouldn’t require such help tonight.

The sight of the car was no consolation at all. The deep-blue sedan was pristine white and loaded with snow. The storm wouldn’t stop blowing and even opening the door of the car proved to be a chore. I stepped in and the poor four-wheel-drive sedan wouldn’t move. It was stuck in the snow. After much effort when it finally did move, it graciously went and got stuck right in the middle of the raised boom-barrier. And it was a rented car and I started getting worried for its well-being. The parking attendant (already battling the blizzard himself and helping people leave from the other exit, while mounting curses left, right and centre) finally came to my help after almost 20 minutes. By now, I was scared as hell and fantasising about my warm bed and the safety of four walls. A mini ice-cleaning truck came to the rescue to shoved some snow away from the car’s path. The parking attendant hurled accusations that sounded something like ‘you should read weather forecasts before stepping out in a blizzard like this!’ Point mindfully noted, sir. But what about tonight?

After great difficulty, the sturdy car finally hit the road. But this was just half the battle won. Or maybe not even that. Once the ride began, and it was going to be almost 30-minutes long, my heart sank further upon seeing the conditions of the road. They were deserted. The lady on my GPS sprung to life and started dictating directions. The funny thought of satellite links going haywire and me getting lost in this strange country on the road crossed my mind. I sensed mind-numbing negativity inside me.

Soon I hit the interstate and that’s when the jams started to appear. First I encountered smaller jams, and then bigger ones. One or two broken down cars parked at the corners of roads. In this maddening chill, with crazy temperatures. Would the cars have enough fuel to make the heaters last overnight while help arrived the next morning? The car in front of me hurled a shovel in the direction of a broken down car on the right, with a lady standing in the snow hoping for some help to come by. ‘Help yourself’ was the mantra that night. My heart couldn’t have sunk any lower, but I retained faith in the deep-blue car.

The road brought along crazy turn in the snow and involved following a jeep with a family for directions. While the GPS didn’t conk off (phew!), it also didn’t help much once the jam began. The biggest, longest, toughest jam of my life. The car got stuck, almost 20 minutes away form the hotel, in a jam. It was midnight now and the traffic didn’t move even an inch for almost 3 hours!!!

Stuck in a foreign country, in temperatures hovering around -14 degree Celsius outside the car, with no help whatsoever, with just a mini cleaner to remove the snow from the windshield and a full tank to at least keep the heater on and whirring.

Now over to what the media does when these blizzards hit. The radio was blaring and I was on the lookout, ears perked, waiting for some good news to make an appearance. I kept listening on and on and on... endlessly... for some good piece of information. That didn’t happen. What I did hear was this –

‘John, so the residents of the New York/New Jersey area are battling a harrowing blizzard.’

‘Yes Tara, our records tell us that this the worst storm the area is battling for this time of the year, in the last 20 years!’

‘Wow John, that’s pretty bad! And despite weather warnings, the area was not prepared to deal with this kind of snow.’

‘For the people stuck out on the road, its a new record ($%&#$) and the traffic is showing no signs of moving on the interstate. We can’t say how long this will last, and we can only comment once it stops snowing. But this is a new record (&@@$%) and the New York/New Jersey area will have to fight a long night ahead.’

Ok, enough! I was simmering with anger... about to burst. We were stuck away from homes and hotels, out on a highway, without knowing how or where this night would end... and the radio people are busy creating records! Plain disdainful.

3AM

Some Interstate highway, New Jersey

During the course of this wait, my feelings metamorphed from anger, to disdain, to denial and then to a reluctant phase of acceptance. This was my fate tonight, stuck in a car, no food or water, no washroom to relieve myself, sub-zero temperatures outside and a non-moving jam. And of course, loathsome radio anchors. Fabulous. Price I paid for watching WWE. My only solace was the other cars stuck around me with their families. I turned off the radio and slipped into an erratic sleep pattern...

And then I heard a horn. Then another. And another! It seemed that the traffic had finally started moving. I was ecstatic and the fingers hurt from being crossed so tight! The blocked cars were indeed moving and I moved with them. The roads, to my sheer amazement, had been cleared of the snow. With salt-sprinklers and snow-shoving trucks. As I moved along and noticed the clear roads, I wasn’t angry at the authorities anymore. I was only amazed at how just in a short span of 3 hours, such long stretches of roads, covering miles and miles of distance, had been cleared before allowing the traffic to resume. I was jubilant and relieved. Soon enough, the hotel appeared at a distance. Life was good! The road exit that lead to the hotel had been cleared too. The drive towards the parking lot was a smooth one. As I looked up at the window of the room I was going to sleep in, I almost already passed out of exhaustion...

3.35AM

The Hotel, New Jersey

Once the car was parked, I picked up all belonging and made my way to the room. The receptionist gave me quizzing looks and with a smile on my face, I said-

‘I was at WWE tonight. And then got stuck in the snow.’

I also remember raising my sponge ‘No.1 John Cena’ hand towards her in greeting. Once in the room, I fixed myself a frozen parantha and some warm milk, and had it while browsing pictures clicked during the day on the camera...

I was finally home.

Take two... my second attempt at writing this post. First draft lacked structure and sounded random. Writing television news has changed the way I write. My sentences are shorter, English is simpler and I am almost always writing for some imaginary audience. No more, not here... no sir.

Writer’s block had yet again jammed the grey artilleries in my brain. The juices aren’t flowing like they once used to and the mind requires some literary exercise. I haven’t written for this space in a while and I feel lost. Lost in the crowd and lost in the flurry of action & activity that defines my life right now. Little time to smell the roses and even lesser time to replenish the essentials that wholly constituted my life before the madness began. But I vowed to myself to not get lost in the maddening crowd... and I am back at my favourite place to reflect some more on life and times. Blogging helps me channelize my thoughts in a crystal-clear way...

Life has simplified a bit. There are fewer things that demand attention. Friends have become busy and the pressures of maintaining an active social life have soothed. Not that I didn’t enjoy mingling with my favourite people. But everybody is hooked now, as am I. And luckily, the bonds have remained... only to be rekindled on stolen trips back home or wherever these hidden treasures reside.

But while things have simplified in some respects... a greater investment of my time is needed elsewhere. The quality versus quantity debate seems to have crept into the picture and I know I have grown up. The last year or so had been fast and energetic. My endurance, patience and comfort levels have been tested like never before. On the personal front, things have evolved too. I have become more content and satisfied as a person. Existing bonds have solidified. Temperaments and rationales have passed the test of time...

Life has come a half-circle, as opposed to a full one, and I feel ready to experience more. Christmas and New Years are just around the corner and Santa has also popped out, buzzing with jingling bells in my head. Emotions have passed through the prism of time and split into a rainbow of jubilation and exhilaration.

Random, erratic thoughts are the essence of this post... but I shall be back to write and share more. Stay tuned ;)

Victimized by voyeuristic television news channels and penalized for his liberal utterances on Twitter, Minister of State for External Affairs Shashi Tharoor was forced to resign.

A saga that was first publicized by Headlines Today, about his alleged affair with Dubai-based Kashmiri Sunanda Pushkar, spilt over to something much bigger. I am sure when the channel first rolled out this story last week, the intention was just to stay in tune with the general flavor of its content (entertainment based) policy. When Lalit Modi picked up a cue from the dole-out and tweeted about the specifics of the Kochi franchise of the IPL, the matter gained ugly proportions. The slug-fest, prompted by Modi and Tharoor, and carried forward by all four major English news channels (one look at their prime-time discussion shows would have proved my point), resulted in the inevitable ouster of Mr. Tharoor.

It bothers me to see him go. Because the way I see it, and a lot of other news mediums don’t, is that I see it as the end of an era of new-age politics even before it began. An epoch where everybody in the position of power would be allowed to speak their mind and express earnest opinions on even social networking platforms (like Twitter). Not one person in this country seems fully satisfied with our governance mechanism. All of us love to hate the government and everything that it does. When a politician comes along as a new beam of hope for a change in standards (think Obama and Al Gore), instead of appreciating him for what he stands for, we join the chorus of news channels in beating him about the smallest slip-ups. Yes, change is uncomfortable. But change is also essential. Especially when you dislike things the way they stand.

We envy foreign politics for the quality of their people and their connect with the audience. When one of our own politicians makes an attempt to reach out and divulge his correct views on government’s policies and procedures, we shred him apart for being imprudent. Where is this country headed in given circumstances? As people, we appreciate newer concepts like ‘younger politicians’, but bash honest opinion-givers because they deviate from the norm of towing the servile line?

Did we, or them, expect the former dipomat in Tharoor to stoop to the levels of a Narendra Modi who uses forums like Twitter to further his political propaganda? Does he even have a political propaganda? Doesn't that set him apart? And whatever happened to the good sense of our television news channels? One channel might be reckless in its depiction of certain personalities. But if the rules of ‘competition’ dictate that every other channels needs to pick up the bait from here and be equally foolish in their conduct, then I abhor such competition.

For those of you reading my post and nodding in disagreement, I shall come to you for your views when eventually the IPL is banned for proving to be a breeding-ground for ‘match-fixers’ and ‘fiefdoms’. Because trust me you, if a Lalit Modi ouster is on the cards, the reputation of the IPL wouldnt be left unscathed either. It's future could be put into jeopardy.

Tharoor, till the very end, maintained high standards of dignity and composure. Without once denying his close friendship with Sunanda Pushkar, he gracefully offered to resign when he realized that things weren’t going his way. He might have over-stepped his powers as the MoS in the Kochi franchise auction, but he managed to retain his standards of correct conduct. Pushkar in return agreed to give up her Rs.70 crore stake to uphold Tharoor’s position. The Congress, already up in arms and tired of Tharoor’s constant tweets that contradicted their government policy, took this as an opportunity to show Tharoor the door. Of course being a shrewd party that it is, Lalit Modi’s head is lined up next for the guillotine.

The ouster of Shashi Tharoor was sad. With him we lost an educated, refined, polished and erudite politician. Something that our country, standing on the brink of political dubiousness, badly needed. We all seem to realize that development is difficult with the given quality of our politicians. With Mayawati who doesn’t tire of building her own statues, to Varun Gandhi who spews venom each time he opens his mouth, to Karunanidhi who is unable to untangle a messy succession battle, to Narendra Modi who is confused about which community card to play next to expand his voter base, to even a P.Chidambaran who is facing the ire of critics for his failed Naxal strategy after the Dantewada massacre – we are all confused about what we want from the ‘ideal Indian politician’. The UPA government which has so hopelessly failed to either control the spiraling food prices, or even failed to punish an obvious-accused like Ajmal Kasab, has fuelled our desire to scribble more furiously in our mental ‘complaint registers’. With Shashi Tharoor came the ray of hope of a new age of politics where politicians would have been free to drop all pretensions and speak their mind openly. An age where politicians reached out to the people and felt free to share their opinions about things that mattered. We need politicians who dare to deviate, those who refuse the tow the proven line with blindfolded eyes. We need thinking politicians who look beyond themselves towards the greater good of the nation. And we also need politicians who come equipped with a global perspective to take us forward. Tharoor might not have been the ideal politician, but he was definitely a beginning. By losing him, we've done a big disservice to ourselves.

Television channels, so consummated by the short-term joy of higher TRPs, offered cheap thrills to the people in the name of the ‘Tharoor-Sunanda-Modi’ saga. A host of benami IPL transactions still lie under the wraps. It is unfortunate to see this melodramatic saga of public muck-fest conclude the way it did. It is even sadder to see the (as somebody pointed out) 'conditioned' editorial chiefs of our television news channels undeterred by the damage that they have, knowingly or unknowingly, caused to the long-term goals of our country. They sabotaged a new dawn of Indian politics by stealing an example who could have been an inspiration to many others like him. Here in India, it is almost a crime to be erudite and educated. Maybe as a nation who cant move beyond envying western culture, but is unable to acclimatize itself to a liberal way of governance; we deserve to mire in the shackles of poor-development. I feel truly saddened by the complete lack of perspective on the Tharoor issue…

Post Script - By this post, I do not imply to absolve Tharoor of the charges that have been pressed against him in the Kochi franchise. But think about what would happen if we applied similar standards of judgement to our other leaders. Maybe this country would be left leaderless. Cruz remains, we cannot overlook Tharoor’s goodness.

It gives you a high when you begin your year in the valleys with close friends. I started mine in the with a train trip to Himachal Pradesh…

Jan 1, 2010
Kalka Shatabdi leaves Delhi at around 7.30am in the morning. We reached at the nick of time, thanks to a very slow taxi-driver who despite our constant protests, insisted on stopping at the red-light outside the New Delhi Railway Station. Once boarded, and we were traveling first class, I remember looking out of the window and seeing beautiful landscapes slip by. Amidst the pink ambience of the interiors of my train, it was a joyride all the way to Kalka.

Upon reaching the destination, a taxi took us to Shoghi. The driver this time was a Sikh who, I distinctly remember, stopped at a highway dhaba to fill up his stomach with tandoori chicken (or was this detail a fabrication of our idle minds?).

Shoghi was beautiful. Valleys were steep (:O) and we were staying at the emerald-queen of Shoghi vacation stays, Parkwoods Rustic Resort. My cottage was plain wood and basic, the bed was wrought-iron, and the bath-fittings were decent. Everything run on LPG… right from the geyser, all the way to the heater (prolonged use of an LPG heater can give you a headache, by the way).

While the day was spent in settling down, advent of the night saw a bonfire. Argumentative as we are, discussions followed. Tempers flared. Drinks flew around. Ashes left a weird stench in my locks. Retired for the night post 1am… slept almost immediately upon hitting the bed.



Jan 2, 2010
And woke up early. With a throbbing headache. Picked up a high-resolution Canon camera and stepped out to shoot after popping in a crocin. The high valleys and hammock, the scattered pine-cones and the early morning mist, interesting flowers and beautiful hills. I clicked some of the best pictures of the trip here. Wooden huts with chairs and tables outside. The grey ashes of our previous night’s bonfires were still fresh.

In the afternoon, we set out for a mountain trek. It might interest you to know that the author of this post suffers from vertigo. So basically for the most parts of this 1.5hrs trek, I was a nervous wreak. At one point, I even remember asking our trek-guide if anybody had ever slipped from these valleys and died (:O!). He was kind enough to just smile. Others laughed (grrr :P).

Post-trek came the body massages. Callous village people were called to ‘massage’ us with mustard oil (think: dara singh champis). After my turn, I was impatient to take a bath and get all the mustard oil off me. What an ordeal. For everybody traveling to Shoghi, please skip the oil-massages.

The beautiful night saw another orange-aura bonfire. Food was delicious, I got served Top Ramen on request. Someone was kind enough to hand-feed me because I was feeling whimsical. That same someone lit up the night with resplendently-sung soft Hindi songs and ghazals. I made a video. This someone made the trip worthwhile. There were no arguments this night. Only discussions about a game of Scrabble played earlier in the day, and some nostalgic school talks, and lot of reminiscing. I slept like a baby that night too.



Jan 3, 2010
A cab was called to ferry us to Shimla (15kms away from Shoghi). Although distance wasn’t much, the route felt longer with all the circular mountain tracks of Himachal Pradesh. This time the taxi guy was calmer (and not a Sikh!). A friend insisted we stopped along a grocery shop on the way because he had to (had to!) buy his cans of Diet Coke. Almost his staple diet, I’d say.

In Shimla, we zeroed in on an ITC hotel for our stay. The wooden interiors were missing, but this place was more swanky (obviously!) that our Shoghi place of stay. A walk on Mall Road proved good. Some scandalous pictures were clicked on Scandal Point. The clouds overpowered us mid-way and it started to pour. Amidst the cloud-walk, we foot-soldiers struggled to find a shelter. Café Coffee Day was encroached upon after satiating our hunger with hot pakoras on the road. I splurged on a sinful, but fuzzy serving, of Chocolate Excess. Temperatures outside were sub-zero. I could almost see virtual cats and dogs in the rain.

After a cozy-cum-splashy walk back to our plush hotel, our jeans were wet. Snacks and food made an appearance in our beds that night (aka room-service). Scrabble was out again, I won a wonderful game. Proved some girl-power. A card-game of Bluff was the highlight of the night. Needless to say, yours truly won again.

That night I slept late… a stench of onions with chicken tikkas stayed in my head.



Jan 4, 2010
Early morning cab to Kufri. Snow has bestowed dear Earth with whiteness. We were going to Kufri to have our share of snowball-fun before catching the train to Delhi. Kalka was 4-hours away from where we were. Cab-ride was fun. Everyone jumped at the slightest sight of snow.

Cars were skidding, we decided to step out and play foot-soldiers again. The walk up the mountain was fun. Our pony-rides to the top of the mountain were more fun. Angers flared as we got a little late in returning to the cab. Some feared we would miss our train.

And train we did miss. But what followed later could have been worse. Destiny put all its forces together to get us late. On the 4-hour drive back from Kufri, we found ourselves stuck in a 6 kilometers long highway jam. No place to run. Hard mountain on one side, deep valley on another. Someone checked his watch 30 times in 30 minutes. Consequently, we missed our train by just five minutes. Cab guy was kind enough to arrange another cab to Delhi for us. Charged us quite a bit (scoundrel?). We hit town post 12am, I was in bed by 1.30. Before I drifted off to sleep, I smiled selfishly at a year begun adventurously. Lo and behold outside-world, you have enough reason to be jealous :) Amen.



P.S. Television writing in college has screwed up my sentence-length!

Prologue
If you're one of those people who grew up reading good books and still can’t live without a good title on your bed-side table, then this might interest you. Amazon has come up with a new E-book console called the Amazon Kindle. It is a gadget by Amazon.com for reading e-books as well as other digital media like newspapers and magazines.

Advantages
Several things about this device impress me. First is that it is simple and sleek to use. Make an account on amazon.com and punch in your credit card details with it. Order your kindle online and once you get it, just plug it in and order a book. It downloads in under a minute. Kindle's 6-inch screen and e-ink format makes the reading experience almost like a real book. Its 2GB memory can hold nearly two thousand titles. At just 289grams, it is the lightest console in its category. The Wireless internet is called WhisperNet, and it works in most countries including India via AT&T's partner mobile networks. Amazon claims a two-week battery life with wireless off. The new Kindle also has a "text-to-speech" which reads out text loud. This feature makes it useful for the visually challenged or simply lazy!

Shortcomings
Although the Kindle is good in most aspects, some glitches would make you reconsider a buy. Priced at over Rs.19,000 including device cost and shipping, it is a little overpriced for Indian buyers. Upon subscription to various magazines and newspapers like the Wall Street Journal, there is an additional monthly charge that has to be paid. On international roaming, a charge of $4.99 per week has to be paid despite non-usage. That fact alone makes it an expensive buy. Another shortcoming is the absence of any back-light. This makes it impossible to read from the Kindle in the dark. There are no Indian newspapers on Kindle yet, but I hope that would be sorted soon. Also, there are no Indian authors in the over 3,00,000 books available online on Amazon.

Technology of E-Ink
The display of Kindle is almost zero-power and lasts for 15 days. It is made possible by a new technology called E-Ink. It makes displays that are low on power usage flexible and readable in most of the lighting conditions. While it may look like normal ink on the display, it works by filling millions of micro-capsules or cavities. By using 5200 times less power than liquid crystal display, electronic ink only needs power when changing its display. Infact a digital book can display the same text for weeks without any additional charge applied to it. This makes it the closest thing to a printed book.

Competition
The e-book market is heating up. Amazon faces competition from several quarters to retain the top-spot. Sony introduced the E-reader in the market before Kindle. After staying on the second spot for a long time, it is now launching two new models - Reader Pocket and Reader Touch - to take over Kindle. Barnes and Noble, Amazon's biggest rival, has come up with its own e-book reader device called Nook. It sports a touch screen feature and allows book-sharing option too. The Korean major LG has also introduced the world's first solar power book reader. Its 6-inch display incorporates a thin-pin solar cell which minimizes the risk of running out of power during an engrossing read on the beach. And with rumors of Apple and Microsoft joining the fray by 2010, consumers are going to be spoilt for choice.



Epilogue:
With the ease of use and portability, some people like Prasanto Roy of Cybermedia are calling this ‘the future of the book’. Whether that holds true or not, only time will tell. Meanwhile, if you’re planning to make a purchase… let me know and I will assist you with the formalities!