Day 3: In Aurangabad...

Well, we reached at about 2 AM in the morning – the bracket of time when life sustains only around the railway station usually. While Hyderabad blended cultures seamlessly, this city had a distinct ‘northy’ feel – not in sight yet – as it was pitch dark then. The feel, was because my mind had programmed itself to the fact that we were in Maharashtra – a state that we often hear in the news (Vidarbha’s suicides, Mumbai’s terror attacks, Pune’s rave parties....etc) but never felt for the trouble, being conveniently distant. As a spectator, things that get injected into our intellect creates ideas that could be alarming. But once you are in a place, those pre-conceived notions are laid off. I guess... I began untying those knots as we walked over to our hotel, 10 mins from the station.

Reached hotel - rooms allotted – entered room – plunged onto bed. Very insensitive to disturbances while sleeping – woke up 3 hours later – knowing that the stationary bed is something that I’ll miss in the next 20 days. Pohe for breakfast – mildly flavoured rice flakes that look small but are quite filling. Surprise, surprise – a cake of a building right next door! The Goldie Cinema – with blue-berry icing. Well, what can I say – gimmicks that people are made to do, calling it consumer-driven architecture. It does turn heads, and pockets sometimes...


GOLDIE CINEMA WITH BLUE BERRY ICING

As much as it’s dipped in history, Aurangabad has emerged as one of the fastest growing cities in India, owing to its spirit of entrepreneurship, housing a large no. of industrial estates. The main roads were dotted with a lot a horn ok please lorries carrying huge consignments of textiles, construction materials and other engineering goods that the place is known for. We were heading towards the Ajanta Caves – about 100 km from the city. Almost 30 mins into the journey, all that city noise was gone – just parched landscapes. Brown ploughed land, dry trees, barbed fences and scarecrows.

The route was devoid of any interest in a sense – it felt like a brown rug pulled across the window. I was getting tired of it when the bus came to a screeching halt. Flat tyre....! And we were in the middle of nowhere...Interestingly, stranded in that place for at least an hour – the place felt better all of a sudden. Things looked clearer – seemed like there was some pattern in the way the trees were placed on the neatly combed soil. It is interesting how perceptions change based on situations – and when you look closely there’s always something to appreciate & take back.

A bit of enthusiasm and resistance to the heat – the tyre was fixed and we were back on track...The road later passed thro’ hills & valleys alternately – pleasant with picturesque views of the sedimented canyon. At Ajanta, all support facilities are regulated to the periphery of the heritage site – interestingly it is one of the reasons that the place is well-maintained yet less preferred as a tourist destination. The approach was quite tiresome (senior citizens & the physically challenged would find it extremely uncomfortable – lack of water facilities & the steep rise in particular) but finally when the view of cave complex opens up – it truly is a sight to behold. It felt like this secret, mystical kingdom placed in the wilderness – untouched by the world and humbled by its own magnanimity.


THE APPROACH VIEW TOWARDS THE HORSE-SHOE

Completely cut off from the rest of the world – I guess generations together could live there in exile and no one would know. It served the purpose beautifully till a bunch of Englishmen accidently stepped on it. The Buddhist monks spent their lives in making the place – the chaityas, viharas & stupas within 30 odd caves. Most of the caves are dimly lit to reduce damage by light. I didn’t see much or analyse the paintings but being in that darkness was quite overwhelming. Why doesn’t the roof fall without any support? How is the floor so smooth? Why are the rooms so tiny? How did they do it? - were questions that we took back. Of course, the technical know-how is important but I guess it teaches one - the undying belief in the human spirit; one that makes renouncing the world & scraping thro’ mountains possible. Without sophisticated tools, structural drawings, high-end survey equipment and skilled labour – if that was possible; it is only a point to ponder over, than years of rigorous research.


THE CAVES ALONG THE HORSE-SHOE CANYON

Ellora caves – was scheduled for the next day – pretty much similar – this time there were Hindu, Buddhist & Jain faiths superimposed on the same site. It was much easier to access for one thing, one could even opt for cabs to see the caves at the farther end – but I felt that I didn’t do justice to the place as we were literally running from one cave to another. We had to reach Jalgaon to catch the next train; that was about 200 km away.

The famous Kailasanatha Temple is situated there and is the highlight apart from the sculptural quality of a dozen shiv-lings. I’ve not seen anything like the temple ever before in my life - meaning to say that it is sheer genius. Subtractive sculpting intricate forms into rock from above and then deeper sideward into the mountain – creating a structurally & aesthetically sound monument is not a joke. 3 storeys of access, chamber within chamber, a life size elephant & a highly intricate dhwajastamba – all this & much more carved into a humongous boulder in the mountain. The quality of that space – devoid of any idol, of any faith would be more spiritually overpowering than one with it. I guess...the notion that godly powers rest in an idol within the temple is redundant. The passage thro’ a space like that in itself is ‘godly’ – in a sense that it alleviates one of the memories of worldly troubles. And in my reasoning – that’s why we go to temples (churches/mosques wherever...)


GNAWING INTO STONE & FRAMING THE SKY - KAILASANATHA TEMPLE

Reaching Jalgaon was on the same route to Ajanta. So it was the treaded path once again – reached the Railway station dot on time. We couldn’t do Ellora the day earlier because the place remains closed on Mondays. Badly organised in Aurangabad - we lost a lot of time in travelling and getting people together, that we didn’t see the Bibi ka Maqbura & the Daulatabad fort...Other than that, I guess its.... Jai Maharashtra!

Day 2: In Hyderabad...

My small town upbringing never induced a sense of alienation in big cities – rather the mass of people, their lives, the sense of place and its history – are so rich in colour that it usually distracts my mind altogether from it. Right off the station, we ran across the city – Hussain Sagar Lake & Salar Jung Museum just flashed across the window in the hurry to fill the grumbling stomach. One important aspect of my ‘to do’ list was food – obviously it goes without saying but being a foodie – there lies no better opportunity in tasting the pan-Indian palette than this journey. ‘Akki Roti & Pesarattu are must tries for breakfast’, said a friend and so did I gorge on the awesome dosa cousins.

Post refreshments – we headed out to the ‘Old City’. At about 9 AM – the old city was still sleeping – probably after a tiresome night before. Gulte friends were doing their bit to let us know of the speciality of their home town – the ever-famous Hyderabadi accent, lac bangles, silver foils and the quintessential Biryani took their baby steps in those streets around the Charminar.


APPROACHING THE CHARMINAR



WITH THE RUFFLED SKY


Though deprived of the rhythmic chaos - characteristic of old towns – the morning was beautiful & very photogenic to view the monument, the Jama Masjid next to it & the Chowmohalla palace. In 2006, the same places appeared boring and crowded to me, but now, 6 years later, they seem to tell a different story altogether. I guess it was then that I realised how old I was getting with the way I perceived things. The Jama Masjid – like every other historic temple resonates faith - the faith that teaches one to hope, strive & reach a higher complexity. What comes to the fore is the thought process of putting together the monument in view of a public concourse. This is a classic example of a true-blue urban plaza – the ones that brought people together in religion, shopping streets around for the women folk & in this case the Unani Hospital too.  




CALLING OUT FROM THE MINARET


The chaos that comes along with it is often judged as its negative aspect – “Oh! Only if the roads were wider; only if shops & vendors never came onto the roads, only if there was more shade....and finally only if things were organised.” Probably we need to figure out something very important here – things like this old city have stood the test of time for a reason – they’re splendid. I guess that’s why history still has many takers....We need to adjust to their presence not the other way round.

After a glass of sherbet, Chowmohalla palace – restored by Rahul Mehrotra. White symbolised elegance and grandeur from the very first step into the precincts – the swans, frangipani trees studded with flowers – surrounded by the endless colonnade with the majestic palace in the background. This UNESCO merited palace is one of the best kept palaces in India, said a guide. I agree!

Within the palace buildings – one sees highly ornate rooms, with chandeliers above and mirror-like floors below – just as anywhere else. The vintage photographs and cross-cultural artefacts add to the old-world experience just as much. But the collection of vintage cars was the highlight for me.


THE PALACE AMIDST A PERFECT SETTING...OR PROBABLY I WAS JUST A LUCKY PASSERBY WITH A CAMERA 

Famished beyond exhaustion, we headed to HITEC City for lunch. ‘Paradise’ hotel it is – for the much hyped Hyderabadi Biryani. En route was a total contrast to the Old City –wide roads, tall IT buildings & apartments, malls and the like. If I’d woken up from sleep to this, I would’ve easily mistaken it to be Singapore or something! I did catch a glimpse of the CII - Sohrabji Godrej Green Business Centre by Karan Grover. It's nothing like I'd imagined it to be from the few photos I'd seen. Big, big mistake of judging buildings from the photographs - I need to correct that. The building lay neatly tucked away into the urban jungle. Just the signature wind shaft caught my attention till a slit in the surroundings gave view. All the glory of that platinum rating in that split second. Some architectural enlightenment that was...!

Another building in HITEC city remained in memory purely because of its contrast in the setting which was Mario Botta's TCS- Deccan Park. The bright red, cylindrical form was a visual break from the other glass cuboids. Call it the architecture of the big moolah. Seemed like my eyes and tummy were parched looking at all that reflective stuff and adding to it was the heat. Finally we found 'Paradise' literally - the biryani restaurant.




I STAND ALONE...& APART

With their fans spraying water to beat the heat, entering into the bright orange interiors felt like a trance. I don't remember what happened till the food arrived....but after that the table resonated silence, with the occasional clutter of cutlery, of course. Delicious biryani, not authentic enough - yet delicious. After that, was the boring, long drive to the railway station to catch our Aurangabad-bound train. Slept thro' most of it to survive the heat.... then window shopping thro' the bus window while passing by the up-market shopping district.

Hyderabad is incomplete without visiting the Golconda Fort - I realised that once I left the place. Funny, how sometimes the most important things become secondary & other details seem to outshine them. So with an I'll-be-back-for-more, I bid the 'City of Pearls' and its people (who don't like sad endings for their movies!) - a cheerful goodbye!




Madras to Manali...and back! Day 1: Chennai

So many places in under a month – was like jumping over an endless puddle –you know... the constant feeling of missing out on important places. But to hell with that...it’s impossible to have an exhaustive list of places to visit before you die – because our perception of these places change with our sensibilities, luck, companions...and what not!?


But this trip was like a test of sorts - 20 days at one go; experiences that await at every destination; being forced to travel with people whom you see on a daily basis, but still are unknown; the notorious summer and a lot of negative vibes....! For heaven's sake, it sounds like 'Big Boss - powered by the Indian Railways.' Ok - the trip wasn't going down well with me - that I had second thoughts till the last minute. But the fact that this might the only chance to do something as crazy as this - got me going. 


Day 1: Chennai – Now this is a city that always remained a distant thought to me till college happened – The hostel overflowed with Chennai gangs...(not to mistake them with anti-social elements – but those who travelled together back home were called so!) Being a central institute, it brought in a lot of them from the state capital. From them, I picked up bits of the local lingo, famous eateries, landmarks, and most importantly school clans and clashes – ‘friend of a friend’, ‘common friends’ etc. etc. Occasionally, my roommates would team up to enlighten me with their Chennai experiences. “There’s such a lot to do in Chennai....we could go here or there, on the way pick them up and....!” This and lots more in 5 years - site visits, & sleepovers at friends homes have now made Anna Nagar, Chromepet & Koyambedu more than just addresses.


Contrast is the fodder that my mind chews on when I choose to be ‘vetti’ - jobless! My city and Chennai obviously have those contrasts – the distances in the sprawling city, traffic & connectivity, the Tamil slang & weather...have all been debatable topics thereby. With a heightened understanding of such nuances, I land at Chennai Central again. Bidding good-bye to all folks, a few of us walk on with our ‘little-less-than-heavy’ luggage towards our Hyderabad-bound train. The massive volume of space in a way ate up most of my anxiety about the forthcoming trip. Gaping at those towering steel brackets of the ‘Indo-Sarcenic’ terminus building in the golden evening hue, Technicolor scenes ran across my mind. The good old ‘Madras’ that I’ve often heard people romanticize about was there; it was and still is the portal to many who dream to make it big in showbiz someday; people from small towns would swim towards this big sea – in search of a better livelihood; the urban forest was also a black hole for many escaping life’s trying situations. This sort of an emotional high is always associated with transit stations I guess -it’s quite an overlap of journeys – some that have not begun yet; while some others that have reluctantly ended.