# A
picture is worth a thousand words goes the cliche, we clicked
2500+. Now even if we do ditch 90% of them, we are still left
with 250 and that would be like going through a quarter of a million words. So
if I describe the experience in a few thousand words and a few photos to
accompany the write up, would it still be considered an effort
in precis writing ? Go figure.
Holiday
Destinations
There
are holiday destinations & holiday destinations and then there is the
Kingdom of Ladakh. Nothing that anybody tells you beforehand about it can ever
prepare you for the actual experience. Believe me, we had serious information overload.
I
do have a penchant for making absurd comparisons. Let us for one moment imagine
that all holiday destinations in India are women. How can one describe the
popular destinations like say a Goa, Mahabaleshwar, Kulu-Manali, Munnar, Ooty
etc? They are that young woman, absolutely pretty; having a cheerful grin who
welcomes you with warmth makes you comfortable in her company. One that you
enjoy so much that eventually you take her to mom and tell her she’s it, the
long sought bahu, give your blessings. These are the brides.
Ladakh,
on the other hand is the wild, beautiful, sultry lover, with a cool smile that
instantly turns you on, whose bedroom eyes promise exciting times. With her one
shivers in anticipation on when would she scratch or bite, knowing fully well
that she definitely would, in whose embrace, the rest of the world is
forgotten, blip....What about mom?
Well...
Who’s Mom... What about her? In the company of such a woman, you would
find yourself swearing that yours was an immaculate conception or you were
dropped by a stork & you never ever had a mom. Ladakh is that lover, Moms n
lovers don’t jell ...naahhhh, nevaahhh.
Most
destinations are tame, this is anything but that.
The
Kingdom of Ladakh is India’s connection with the roof of the
world, Tibet. It is a landmass with many unique features those that can very
well be counted among the natural wonders of the world. Divided into two
districts Kargil and Leh, this kingdom has the harshest climatic conditions
found in all of India. It has some of the highest motor able roads in the
world, in fact the first three Khardung La (18380 ft), Tanglang La & Chang
La (17668 ft) passes are right here. For five winter months of the year
the Drass sector in Kargil district reports temperatures in the range of -50deg
C which is the second coldest inhabited area on mother earth. A mere 2 degrees
C temperature saw our urban group from Mumbai, Pune, Nasik, Thane, Bhopal and Hyderabad
being reduced to kulfi...and as the wind chill brought it further down we found
ourselves huddling inside the most clothes ever worn by us at a single time in
our lives.
The
biting cold here gave purpose and meaning to even those T shirts and shirts
which had been lying in the cupboards unworn for years...the very objective
towards which some machine somewhere had spewed them out was being fulfilled
here. Clothing is important, layered clothing is the norm. If I were to take a
poll on which of the three Bollywood leading men (The Khan trio) could be
popular here, Shahrukh and Aamir would win hands down. Salman in his films
habitually makes a shirtless statement and going shirtless is the constituent
of a horror story in Ladakh.
Story?
Is it a story? Is it an account? Is it a memoir? Could it be a film? What’s so
special about a trip like this that has even me confounded for words? Read on
Ye, all those who have entered here and cared to tolerate this babble so far. They
called it a leisure tour but it turned out to be a rip roaring adventure, the
kind we simply had not bargained for.
Someday
in March 2014, Somewhere near a tollnaka in Mumbai, Mulund (E)
The
missus , her esteemed highness, the right honourable Lady Gauri makes a
proclamation, “We are going to Leh- Ladakh on 15th of August
for 12 days and you have been booked too. Did you hear me?” I had not.
I
was recovering from a river safari trip of 4 days to the Sunderban natural
park, West Bengal. I had been there with a group of birdwatchers. Yeah
there is a species of homo-sapiens that prowl the earth with high tech
equipment, binoculars, cameras, telephotos and sundry other stuff to watch
birds of the feathered kind. Whatever happened to the more interesting sport of
using your eyes on a more interesting bird type; one that wears pencil skirts,
churidars, tight denims and sari’s? My tastes as you may
have realized are more avuncular & discerning, my birds are
not found flying around trees, friends. I was still floating in that hangover
hence this announcement did not sink in properly.
“Re-arrange
your work schedule and should you refuse then be assured - Your Bum Is TOAST”.
It sank in and how. Wow, the intent seemed quite solid and the repercussions
did not augur well for the adipose tissue resting in my denims, therefore I
dutifully mustered delight on my face knowing nothing about what lay in store
ahead.
After
this, I promptly forgot about it in the interim six months until August
arrived. On 1st Aug 2014, I was prodded again; we are now 15
days away from our holiday. Hurried essential shopping later, packing for a
trip is a process that is taken very seriously. The lady is careful, precise
and orderly while my style is well more brisk and quick. She neatly gathers her
stuff around, decides what has to go in and where...mine is more like, find
stuff, decide the take-along stuff, and then me stuffs the stuff. It is a
personal conviction that even my style has merit, but alas, never found the
lady quite amenable to it; in our together trips she subtly always manages to
get her way. Thank heavens for that (Would never admit to her, but I guess she
already knows it).
The
15th August found me seated in the morning flight, gobbling
Upma with absolute relish. A very composed soul mate sat beside me looking
outside the window as we flew into Srinagar. Until this point in the narrative
we were the sole stars, the absolute lead pair of our film, not having met
anyone from the tour organizers or participants so far.
Srinagar
15th-16th August 2014
Walking
outside the airport with our baggage we looked out for the placard of our tour
operator ‘Trekmates India’ only to find one squiggly scrawl stating ‘Mumbai
travellers with Trekmates India’ held on by a stern looking young man. Asking
them and assuring ourselves that they were the ones we said, Okay...here we are. The
stars (Us! what’s so surprising, my thought process always remains totally
filmy) had finally reached the set.
We
were asked to wait and silently we did while the others were searched, assembled
and sorted out to be carted to wherever we were to go. Then quite as suddenly,
the quiet of the Kashmir valley was thoroughly shattered; the sound of multiple
voices in various pitches, all speaking together, loudly and continuously
reached our ears. The chattering decibels akin to that of a 100 hens laying 100
perfect eggs at one time. A large group of young women led by a middling aged
fit gent had joined us. The organizers Nilesh & Nilesh (Thomson &
Thompson, from Tintin, not quite but in purpose they reminded me of the twins
from the comic strip) counted 15 while some said 16 and the debate continued as
we were hustled into a SUV for the hotel.
Srinagar
was under curfew. Why? No one knew either and on asking our driver pat came the
reply “15th Aug hai na” accompanied by a sage nod as if that
explained everything. Further he added it is quite normal here. In Mumbai we
are used to the sight of an odd fat assed policeman with his belly sagging over
his belt carrying a stick and chewing pan while here on every second street we
passed fit army men toting rifles, even the cops here looked fit if not clean. We
were asked to take a circuitous route to our hotel and after reaching there,
were allotted rooms by a curly haired young man with a naughty smile. The itinerary
had said one night halt and the next day sightseeing in Srinagar. After
freshening up we were to assemble for chai and an introduction. As we floated
down the stairs we discovered the entire hotel had been allotted to our two
tour groups. The entire cast and crew of our movie had been assembled.
The
Filmy Briefing :-)
The
basement dining hall had chairs lined up and almost all occupied by a motley
crew of ladies and ladies, I put on my spectacles to look closer and in between
could see a spare sprinkling of my gender. Jeez what had I landed myself into
was the question uppermost in my mind. The organizers took charge and to my
utter dismay came out with the ultimate unoriginal ice-breaker “Introduce
yourselves”. The cackling coop from the airport turned out to be Dentists from
Nair Hospital celebrating their pass-out far away from home, chaperoned by
their destination guardian, who was himself a medico and the father of one of
them. Here is one garrulous dude with a pitch to match was the first impression
I got from right across the room.
It
was a mixed group about 12-16 were bikers whose bikes had not yet arrived hence
the next day was a logistical halt coupled with the sights. One set of working
women and a few mom’s and then us misfits who neither were here nor there
belonging to no group. Thus a natural culling out of the herd was achieved for
our transportation ahead, the bikers and pillions would naturally go on bikes,
one TT ( Tempo Traveler-Mini Bus) to the working women, one TT to the dentists
and one TT to the misfits. A few smart ones had got themselves into the SUV.
Thus
our full length feature film was divided into two distinct plot lines: One for
the TT & the SUV which we shall narrate in real time and one for the bikers
which would come to you as a flashback. Then again the main narrative as under
would come from one TT’s perspective as the storyteller scriptwriter was
surreptitiously placed in T1.
The
organizers began impressively by taking a disciplined line of approach, warning
all of the area we had chosen for this trip and what would happen should this
line be broken. Had they been able to implement it in the days to come would
have straight away nominated them for the highest civilian honors was the stray
cheeky thought that flitted in and out. I looked at the lady besides who
manages me quite effectively. Marriage grants one a wisdom that however hard a
man tries he will never be able to manage a woman ever and here were these five
naive men who entertained hopes of doing that with about forty. All the very
best to this optimism, I said to myself not even sharing this thought with my
better half at the risk of inviting a frosty glance if not actual peril.
Slowly
we started mixing around getting to know each other tentatively at first over
meals and then in the bus. We would be travel companions over the next 11 days.
After
a sumptuous breakfast we sat in the bus to visit the first sight, the
Shankaracharya temple of Shiva ( Jyeteshwara Temple ) atop a mountain called
the Zabarwan about 1100ft from the ground , known by the Buddhists as Pas Pahar
and to the Muslims as Takht –E-Suleiman (The Throne of Solomon) . Climbing the
steps up to it , the breakfast was digested quicker than one could say Chole
Bhature...It was pristine above. In the early morning with the clouds below us
and the city below the clouds the sight made up for all the initial hardship of
reaching there. A mammoth Shivling sat inside. The original structure is said
to have been set up about 370 BC and built up gradually in subsequent years.
Srinagar
has a host of Mughal Gardens very famous ones too...they too have a curious
history behind them. Babar when he came into India in 1526 AD missed the
gardens of his native Samarkand and hated this barren countryside of India with
people who had no concept of fineness. He and his lineage, the Mughals built
gardens in and around Delhi, Agra. Jahangir, the fourth Mughal Emperor loved
the valley of Kashmir and he would visit here with his queen Noor Jehan. For
her he built the Shalimar Gardens full of Chinar trees, water fountains and
flora planted with exquisite care by skilled gardeners. Chashm-e-Shahi bagh and
the Nishat bagh have also been built in the same Persian style, large lawns to
lounge with colorful flowers and roses planted to create an ambience of comfort
for the senses. Holidays and festivals have these gardens full of people
enjoying their free time, an action not seen in mall infested metros of the
rest of India.
We
slipped away to visit “Mughal Darbar” a culinary temple found in the middle of
the Lal Chowk market area. This place is famous for its Wazwan but one has to
be seriously circumspect while one is ordering it here. The portion sizes are
not just huge they are mammoth, so if the waiter suggests half a plate be sure
to ask him do they serve quarter plates? We thought we were being cute when we
asked for half a Wazwan for the two of us. What came to our table was enough to
feed not just us but also our four kittens and two cats for a week. The Wazwan
is a multi course meal that consists of Traem or a tray of rice quartered by
Seekh Kebabs, two pieces of Tabak Maaz ( Ribs browned in butter), Safed Kokur
or Chicken Kebabs and an apology of Paneer ( not present in a traditional
Wazwan ). This was accompanied by three pots of gravy one containing Rogan josh
(minced balls of mutton the size of tennis balls, two of them per gravy),
Rishta, Goshtaba and Aab gosht...we had foolishly ordered for Rotis too. This
was clearly a case of absolute miscalculation on our part but we braved through
all of it wanted to sample all in some proportion. Had this restaurant been in
Mumbai we could have carried the food back home in a doggy bag and lived
happily ever after. Alas, this was not Mumbai and we had to
send most of it back uneaten. Not a bad meal but simply too much meat and too
excess a quantity.
The
Dal Lake shikara ride is nothing to write home about but we did the touristy
thing simply for want of a better thing to do here. We got to know a cute pair
of seniors from our bus, Mr & Mrs Patil ( an ex-cop and his lady, they were
the parents of one of the films directors, Nilesh Patil). The best part was
drinking quawwah while the ride is on, that is one drink we quite enjoyed
wherever we had it. After this we retired back to our hotel in preparation for
a long ride early the next day.
The first leg of the journey had begun , and the fun was just waiting for us. Contd in Part2/4 ..Click here
This can be serious pressure. The unexpected can happen too, like
if the writer director hits a block on ideas and the delivery date is fast
approaching. Then what does the think tank of this project do? Should they still go
ahead and launch the project in its expected style ? This one does. Big names are roped in, given the prestige associated with the producers and the successful director involved; the budget also expands exponentially. But still the story idea does not emerge, so what next?
Farhan Akhtar with his cult debut Dil Chahta Hai introduced
us to his world of the uber rich and it continues in most of the films produced
by Excel Entertainment. Its an altogether special and different world; a world
of cut glass and crystal. Here social butterflies bitch serenely over herbal
teas and baba ganoush, while their hubbies play golf, have their flings on the
side in distant locations and talk multiple billions with absolute impunity,
offspring are but mere pawns in their business deals. When they rebel and show
individuality, they are screamed at that they never had it so good because they
were spawned by self made men. Three such screamers are Parmeet Sethi, Manoj
Pahwa and the loudest of the loud (Kamal Mehra) Anil Kapoor. Notable among the wives is Kamal Mehra's spouse played by Shefali Shah. The Mehra’s to celebrate
their 30th Marriage Anniversary organize a cruise party. The impact
that this cruise has on their two children Priyanca Chopra and Ranveer Singh and
their love lives forms the crux of this film. 
