Live It

Airborn

2011-05-10T21:48:00.003-06:00

Learning to Fly

A time to rise

2011-05-10T21:23:00.002-06:00

Spring when beauty rises from its sleep

Times a changing

2011-03-26T21:58:00.000-06:00

A changing China

This picture was taken on my last trip to China. I was visiting Qing Dao and was working from a Starbucks across my hotel. My visit to China changed my perception of this beautiful country completely. The infrastructure is wonderful and growing at such an exquisite pace. As a friend of mine summarized China's change "A few decades ago, people used to think and worry about food. Now at least in the big cities thats no longer the case, people now worry about amassing more and more wealth"

Based on my talks with the locals, it appears that growth in China l(like most developing nations) is not without its problems, the divide between the rich and poor is increasing and corruption is also a problem. All in all, this is a wonderful country and one has a lot to learn from the people and the land that is China.

Paris at Night

2010-11-12T06:17:00.001-06:00

Walking in the back alleys of Paris

Reminds one of a chimney

I took the early 6:30 am flight from Munich to Paris, while airborne just before sunrise, I could see the swaths of fog hanging in the air like wisps of unwoven cotton. The scene was dramatic and left me wondering over the drone of the 747's jet engines how it must have been six or so decades ago. Messerschmitts were probably skimming the sky with their high wining engines as the tales unfolded, today I zipped across, uneventfully in the pale morning light towards Paris with a rather ample bosom-ed french woman by my side. The adventure never ends now does it, maybe the Messerschmitt pilots had a little more adrenaline flowing in their veins compared to my half asleep self trying french lines.
CDG airport is quite interesting and gives you the first impression of what to expect when visiting France. In particular take note that one does not find the clean disinfected smell and sights like most other airports but something to the rank of old coffee with the modern and old meeting somewhere in between. Take the train RER2 to Paris Central station or where ever you want to go. Paris is very well connected with the metro and its quite interesting to travel in the same. One can purchase a booklet of 10 tickets which is very convenient, also get a metro rail map which is very helpful to navigate ones way around the city. I was quite pleasantly surprised to find that one can get away with very little french and having my trustworthy french phrasebook with me was definitely an asset.

To be continued

Limit Less

2010-09-19T22:27:00.002-06:00

Its not just a mountain, in this picture there are two climbers making their way up, see if you can spot them

The human spirit is limitless, like mountains it knows no bounds. Why then do we put limits on our passion, our creativity and our compassion. Soar in the wind, feel it running free, like you were born. Its amazing that while we want to experience the wonders of nature we fail to understand the wonder in our own selves. We fail to understand the human potential. While climbing, one often on a good day reaches a state of mind, where there are no limits and no dark fears just the poetry of the rock, there are also times when fear creeps in, dark and silent, the soul feels bound, limited. The purpose of climbing is not just the journey to the top of a mountain, its often a journey to the top of ones fears, standing on top of them vanquished and controlled. The pleasure is all mine.

Pigeon Spire

2010-09-17T09:13:00.003-06:00

Free climbing Pigeon Spire in Bugaboo

Climbing in the Bugaboos

2010-09-02T14:08:00.002-06:00

Climbing Pigeon Spire

It all began a long time ago, may be it was always there. May be there was no beginning, it was there in me, dormant like a volcano or a desire. Long held frozen in time. All it took was a catalyst, the hot summer days, the stories of greatness as men faded in the mountains or may be just memories from my childhood with the beautiful snow covered Himalayas a stones throw away.

It took a long time and I am still not there. Maybe I will never get there. Maybe it's just a journey, this road called perfection. While climbing these beautiful lines, the rock is like a playground before my eyes, each crystal chiseled with temperature and time. Each feature carved out just for me, I can see the beautiful flutes of snow at a distance, time has no meaning, space has no significance. Its sheer joy. The crisp wind freezes the smile on my face, the warmth of the sun etches lines on the corner of my eyes. These are my defining moments, sometimes I turn back, a bit short from the summit other times I stand on it. Its happiness each time. Unbridled joy.

Shades of green

2010-06-01T22:18:00.001-06:00

Waterscapes

2010-06-01T22:17:00.004-06:00

Hand held photo as did not have a tripod

2010-06-01T22:16:00.000-06:00

Under construction

2010-03-28T20:25:00.001-06:00

Standing still

2010-03-28T11:22:00.000-06:00

Open your eyes

2010-03-28T10:56:00.000-06:00

Blue skies in Chesapeake bay

Parking lots

2010-03-28T10:16:00.001-06:00

Are they the same everywhere?

Bindas India

2010-03-18T10:13:00.000-06:00

Climbing in India near Ramapada, came across this graffiti. Maybe its true.

In India

2010-02-16T21:10:00.000-06:00

I cannot imagine certain things, like India in monochrome. It would be almost impossible I insist, to represent this subcontinent in just black and white. The divisions the shades, the gradations, the differences and the similarities are too vast to do so. The world is full of change, and yet things stay the same or at least so it appears on the surface. That is till we are bold enough to peer what is inside and then we notice those small undulations, the rifts the divides the fractures, the bonds, a microcosm of change.
Often in my trips to India one thing that strikes the most amongst all the beauty of its people is the divide between the rich and the poor. The differences are so vast that at times one is appalled by these. Its easy enough to write about the wretchedness of the poor, the deprivation and the squalidness but in truth this is no different anywhere in the world - the scales might be. And as a personal opinion writing about it, supporting it by charities or feeling anything at all about it is not a solution. It is what it is and one needs to find the hidden gems in this chaos, gems that are literally scattered all over. Can I change this, is their a need to change this, why, is it empathy or is it the luxury of the "well to do" to mull over these are thought that often come to my mind. I find myself answering it by one word - acceptance. This is the most important of all emotions that one needs in these situations. To look at another human being as your own and your equal is the only answer. While no one can singlehandedly or as a movement eradicate poverty, what can be done is being just in our own little ways. My belief has always been that only enterprise, be it at the scale of one person of many thousands is the only way to reduce poverty, and this is a change that I see happening in India.

This post is to be continued and refined, I am still pretending to be the thinking mind .....

Climbing in WMWR

2010-01-24T23:19:00.003-06:00

A weekend climbing in the Wichitas before the rains started.

A little bit of heaven

2010-01-17T22:39:00.008-06:00

Scouting for ice

Attempting a really brittle overhang

Ice it is, these aren't on the Rupal face of Nanga Parbat, heck they aren't even the greatest lines I have done in my limited experience of ice climbing. Yet my pulse increases, my heart flutters, every time my picks touch the ice.

All of these pictures were taken by Caleb Simpson (www.organicclimber.com)

2009-12-23T16:44:00.001-06:00

A pause

2009-12-06T00:26:00.005-06:00

The coffee was strong, bitter and black. Just the way I liked it, for two and half euros, on a cold but bright morning. I stared at the old cathedral supposedly built over six hundred years ago. I was surrounded by people, yet it felt lonely and quite. Voices lapped like waves of the sea, licking the land clean. I sat still, enjoying the warmth of the dark bitter liquid. Contemplating, many thousand miles from home. Enjoying the solitude, the experience, this world in front of me. Yet, something was missing. I wished she was here, her smile radiating from the corner of her eyes as she pretended to be angry. The bitterness of the coffee was not enough, I smiled. I captured the moment in my thoughts, to take it back to her. I pictured her, making her morning tea, with the kitchen window slightly ajar, flavoring it with ginger and cardamoms, as she stood straight. I missed her.

Biking in Palo Duro

2009-11-10T21:43:00.002-06:00

Cycling in Palo Duro in November

Topolinos, Monalisa and Toronto

2009-09-09T22:06:00.005-06:00

Monalisa and old clothing ads

The tower at an angle

An old gentleman playing some good music

Old Fiat cars - are they small

You will think the mini is a huge car when you look at these

All photographs were taken in Toronto in the Italian part of the town with my cell phone camera.

Chicago

2009-07-14T13:41:00.000-06:00

Photo taken next to the navy pier with my point and shoot.

One step at a time

2009-06-28T23:18:00.006-06:00

Climbing Mt Adams (and Rainier) - one step at a time. Photo taken traversing from the false summit of Adams to the true summit.

The snow looked white to me, whiter than usual. Crisp folds of rhyme ice were jutting out from the corners of the windswept face like a dragons skin, crinkled by the cold winds. There were wisps of smoke from the fumaroles, sulfurous wisps, like breath that stinks with time. I sat down exhausted, swept off my feet by the monster that I stood on. Each step was painful and exalting at the same time. I stood on the summit, cold and drained. I was conquered by the sheer beauty of these giants, humbled by their prowess as I realized the delicate balance that is life, the strength within that is ones spirit, one step at a time.

Note: Summited Mt Adams and Rainier

For the love of the sport

2009-06-06T23:15:00.005-06:00

Photo of me leading, taken by C. Simpson

"There are only three sports bull fighting, motor racing and mountaineering all the rest are merely games" - Ernest Hemingway
While the beloved author of mine could be viewed as a little too focused (lets say prejudiced), I do believe that mountaineering and climbing are the king of sports.
I am no master of these fine arts, which require precise control of the mind and the body, an acute sense of mastery over oneself and a keen sense of ones limits, I am but a mere apprentice. An apprentice of the most fundamental of mans senses, a sense of exploration and adventure. I am an amateur a weekend warrior, a brother of rock and hard cold ice. I am a mere passing by moment on a face that has know a million years. Yet to me my presence on the rock face changes me, makes me stronger as if I have found my true inner self.

Mountain biking fun in Moab

2009-04-19T01:41:00.005-06:00

We started off from Dallas on a Thursday afternoon for the high desert country of Moab UT. After being stuck at Vail pass in a freak storm, we finally arrived at the Lazy Lizard Hostel in the wee hours of Friday morning. The hostel needless to say left much to be desired both in terms of cleanliness and our fellow companions. As luck would have it, there was an annual Jeep Safari going on in Moab just this weekend and we were cheerfully greeted with neon lights indicating "NO VACANCY".

After a great breakfast at the Moab Cafe, we headed to Rim cyclery where we rented two Stump Jumper FSR cycles and headed off to the world famous Slickrock trails. With La Sal mountains in the background, the beautiful desert with cool 60 degree temperatures at this time of the year and unbeatable out of this earth trails it was mountain biking bliss. Slickrock is a whole network of petrified sand dunes, the trails are amazing roller coaster rides where you can go up and down at incredible angles. We had fun testing, failing and flailing (not to mention a severely bruised rib) our mountain biking skills. We also ended up helping a fellow biker who broke his rear derailleur, by converting his bike into a single speed.

After a great day of biking, we drove to the Moab Brewery which offered some excellent drinks (steam works in Durango is a much better brewery in my opinion). At the Moab Brewery one should definitely have a swig of the Scorpion ale and the Dead Horse ale.

Next day we had our sights set on the Porcupine rim trail, alas weather was not exactly on our sides and it was snowing high up on the trail with lots of slush. After consultations with the locals we ended up on Amasa back trail which proved to be an excellent back up option. The trail was quite technical with some steep sections and drops. My arse kissed the ground yet again in an artistic manner with my cycle following suit - after all Lilly and I were kind of inseparable.
On our way to Amasa back trail head we ended up racing some Jeeps, which was great fun too. Mud, sweat, promise of bad weather, a bit of blood, possibility of seriously getting injured, amazing vistas , it's nothing but an amalgam of adventure refined to make you feel alive. That evening was spent drinking a couple of beers, and walking around town. Next morning we headed off to Denver and then back home.

Monday back in my office wearing regular work clothes, hiding the bruised broken rib, the aching shoulder, and the weariness that comes after being planted on a cycle for two solid days, smiling at my fellow workers, I was ecstatic knowing that I had lived yet another fabulous weekend under the magical sky of Moab Utah.

Dreams

2009-02-27T10:56:00.006-06:00

Photo of me on Mt Olympus

From the confines of bright mercury florescent lamps with a color temperature of 7000K light seeps out with a slight bluish tinge on it. My mind drifts to blue snow, compressed to ripples, striated with fractures. Ripples like the face of an old man, each fold of ice has a story to tell, a mystery hidden, a time long gone and an era lived.
The familiar crunch from my crampons, the cold thin mountain air, burning holes in my lungs, yet sewing my soul together, reminds me of who I am. The days of training hard for the climb, the pain, the fatigue, the misery of past failures, the dreams are all with me at each step. As the height gets harrowing, my fears grow taller than myself, I assuage them, reminding myself of the beauty that surrounds me, I stare coldly at the depths and I let it sink in. I remind myself to try and not just survive but to live every moment. My heart races on, like a crazy beast, out of control. I am on a high, not the high of a climb, or the pheromones kicking in, but on a high of life and the ride is long.

I hear some one knocking, behind my shoulder I see my PM asking me, can we meet for the customer specs at four today….

Night

2009-01-18T00:18:00.012-06:00

A billion suns sputtering fire,
Across this cold cloudless sky,
Asleep, like an unborn child,
Quite, calm and beautiful,
Before the birth of a shattering dawn

Picture of the Peruvian sky Aug 2008

Understand

2009-01-10T23:32:00.007-06:00

No you did not create the sun or the stars,
Nor the crescent waves with lapping tongues,
Nor the raw beauty of the towering mountains,
Or the dance of thundering pregnant clouds,

No you did not create the silence of the night,
Nor the flutter of a butterfly in its daily stroll,
Or this insane wind that ruffles my hair

You just gave me enough love,
To help me understand them....

(For my mom)

Echoes

2008-12-10T22:03:00.001-06:00

Cloudless everyday you fall upon my waking eyes
Inviting and inciting me to rise
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning

And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
And so I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky

"Pink Floyd - Echoes" (Meddle - 1971)

History

2008-11-25T22:44:00.003-06:00

"Don't just read history, feel it. Try to imagine being an ordinary guy on a half starved horse, your regiment decimated by cholera. You have got a lance in your hand and you are looking into the barrels of the Russian artillery holding the Vorontsov Ridge at Balaclava"

"History forgets the vomit and the shit, the blood and the horses with their guts blown away, the cries of men as they shat their pants and drowned in their own blood"

- from "The power of one"

Love for a rock

2008-11-17T23:06:00.004-06:00

Sculpted in a womb of fire,
Perfection as never before,
As a beacon, she snarls at me,
Climb on to glory, She laughs,
Or the death of your fears,
For you have been blessed,
With the love for a rock....

Voice

2008-11-13T22:35:00.003-06:00

There is a clap of thunder in her voice mixed with the lapping of the gentle ocean waves on a warm August evening some where in Mallorca.....

She is Buika. I have rarely written about artists much less about someone whom I have heard only once. From the little that I have heard her sing, her voice is truly spectacular. Spanish is something that I probably know enough to figure out where the restrooms are (albeit with difficulty), listening to Buika, I have understood the cliche about music transcending the barriers of language.

Danger at every turn...

2008-11-05T21:40:00.003-06:00

- I eat danger for breakfast,
You hungry?
- Starving,

- Let it begin, let it begin.....

In case you are wondering, am I going crazy!! I am waiting for this...

A coat of paint

2008-10-26T21:43:00.008-06:00

The bright red room stared at me,

A brilliant red from years ago,

Left by someone unknown, from the past,

I looked at it, I eyed it, I tried to know it,

It still looked different a sore to my eyes,

An acrid smell, a smell of uniformity,

The bitterness of paint hit my nostrils.
As I menacingly wiped out the traces of red,

I masked it, I masked it well,

Now the whites jump at me, frown at me,

That's easy, a can - plain, pure and some love,

Maybe one could correct the reds of life,

With a primer as white as the one in my room,
Maybe.....

PS: Thoughts as I was priming my bright red bedroom in my old house

Today

2008-10-14T22:07:00.003-06:00

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones that you did do. So throw of the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
- Mark Twain

Life in these words - couldn't be described any better.

Enchanted Souls

2008-10-05T22:18:00.005-06:00

A billion years of poise, grandeur and exquisite unmatched beauty. A beauty incomparable and unattainable by any one else. It was magic at first contact.
Photo taken climbing at Enchanted Rock this weekend.

Viva El Peru

2008-09-05T16:15:00.019-06:00

While the Gods debated over the future of mankind, balancing his ego, pride and desire to be better with his greed, I was in my own little way meeting one of the greatest of Apus, Salcantay himself. In my tryst with the holy one, I realized the beauty placed before me and at the same time I was taught a lesson in plain simple humility.

Blessed with one of the most beautiful sights in the world, the glaciated peaks of the Cordillera de Vilcabamba- at the height of the journey on a beautiful cold pass 4600 mts high, we heard the mountains shrug at mankind sorrowfully. Glaciers groaned as massive chunks of ice broke away, slowly changing this landscape forever.

Peru is a land of colors, and truly the words Live Peru stand out. It is a country that you don't just visit but actually live it, every moment of it infact, breathing it, seeing it, tasting it and hearing it. The vivid polychromic blue skies of the Andies give you a sense of freedom and happiness that can only be found in this land. The word "awesome" can't be used more appropriately anywhere else and finds a true home in the breathtaking Andean highlands and people.

We toucheddown at Jorge Chavez International airport around 1035pm, cleared customs and slept in the airport - yep you heard it, like two ragamuffins, we shamelessly slept in the airport. We caught the early flight to Cusco and viola we were at 11,000'. The landscape was stark and dry. The Vilcabamba ranges standing tall and proud all around us. We stayed at the wonderful San Juan de Dios hostal which was an extremely clean place and all proceeds went to support the street children of Cusco. As soon as we landed we ended up gulping down loads of coca tea, which needless to say was wonderful. There is something good about all things forbidden :-). Did I say hot tea, oh I must have forgotten the adventures with the ice cold showers the first day :-)

After a hearty breakfast we took a ta'xi to the "Plaza de Armas." Cusco was the center of the great Inca empire. The Inca stone work needless to say is fabulous and its impressive to see the extent of Incan footprint even in the modern Peruvian almost five centuries later. Peruvians have a wonderful air about them, they appear as sturdy hardworking people. The facial features are rugged and they have an easygoing outlook towards life - or so it appears. In Cuzco one is often reminded that he/she is a tourist (probably one too many times) by the throng of people asking you polietly if you need to visit a restaurant or if you need an "Incan massage," we often wondered what an "Incan massage" was, was it something to do with stones. I will leave it to the readers vivid imagination to deduce what it is.

Drinking "Mate de Coca" has a new meaning as you are sipping the warm heavenly tea from a balcony on a sunny winter evening high up in the Andies. Truly life can't be more comfortable. We got up early at around 0300 hrs and after another cold shower, had a small adventure with our hostal receptionist who told us or we understood it as - the bus that was supposed to pick you at 0400 hrs came by at 0330 hrs. Armed with an appreciation for the phrase book and the phrase book itself, Pritha tried to get the meaning across the barriers of broken spanish and little english. After much sweat and little relief, we decided to stand outside the hostal in the pleasantly chilly morning waiting for the bus. Finally a good 20 minutes later than its scheduled arrival our bus arrived - precisely on time - lets just say precisely on Peruvian time - which multiple experiences over the next couple of days blaringly indicated to us - add 15-20 minutes to the scheduled time and don't panic - just chill Amigo.

We proceeded towards the town of Soraypampa which was the starting point of our trek (I will have to verify all names as I do not have the itenerary with me). After stopping for some light breakfast (note the emphasis is on the word light cause I could have wolfed down a lot more) at Mollepata, the bus turned towards a true Andean highway, which in plain english is a 4x4 dirt track in the US. The road winded up towards the Andean highlands and flora changed rapidly over the next two hours. We came to a standstill at a checkpost where in our guide Johan (written and pronounced like Jack) strolled out amicably and Peruvian diplomacy took effect. We waited for a good twenty minutes before proceeding to Soraypampa.

On the bus towards Mollepata

Off the bus at Soraypampa

A small Andean farm in the highlands

On the trail, Salcantay in the background

The trail towards Salcantay

Sturdy mules carrying our gear

The sturdy horsemen of the Andies

Apu Salcantay at a distance

To be updated and continued...

Viva El Peru - going "Loco" with rumbling hearts

2008-09-04T22:42:00.010-06:00

Armed with a phrase book, and enough spanish to count to ten (albiet with help) and say hello I embarked with a dear friend to conquer Peru. I came back conquered and jubilant. Here are some photographs from the trip, more to follow soon.

Thought for the day

2008-08-21T08:50:00.003-06:00

I am not a religious person, not out of fashion, neither out of spiritual or philosphical realization or elation. This is the way I am. I do try to read about all religions as much as possible. To learn from the years of contemplation of mankind at its worst and at its best. One such great work is the Geeta.
I came across this today:

"Blessed is human birth; even the dwellers in heaven desire this birth; for true knowledge and pure love may be attained only by a human being. "

I do not want to delve into what pure love and true knowledge is, I leave it to the philosophers and the gurus and oneself to interpret that, but I do want to emphasize on the essence - that this is your time to live not just survive.

Where do we go from here?

2008-08-18T21:29:00.007-06:00

Taken many years ago, I was reminded by a "pro-green" friend of mine of this picture. There is nothing spectacular about this picture other than the clutter. I titled it as "Where do we go from here?" Taken from inside a car, I found the auto rickshaw driver in a very contemplative mood. The traffic is stand still, he is driving around old Delhi, the polluted air seeping and burning holes through his lungs as he makes ends meets. His reflections of decades of change, mercurial change and hopefully eventually positive change. Change which was not natural and progressive for a great period and probably still isn't.
I know he is not thinking about this, may be he is thinking about his family, about his childhood, about how cleaner the streets were when he drove in his younger days or may be not.
Maybe we should think about how to make this world a cleaner place, for his sake and our sake.

Unspectacular with my spectacular 12-24

2008-08-11T21:27:00.003-06:00

I finally got my used second hand and spectacular Nikon f4 12-24mm wide angle lens at nine today. I had to shoot a few images, to check the beast and obviously it had to be outdoors (house is in a state of disarray as haven't even unpacked and am living of a valise). With no tripod, I tried some shots and rushed to Borders (as no internet at home either at the moment), though the photos are not spectacular, but clearly the lens is. I have always been a fan of ultrawides as most of my pics are landscapes. More photos to follow after the Peru trip :-)

Two Suitcases across La Guardia

2008-08-09T23:12:00.006-06:00

I washed ashore the cold beaches of New York, like a rotten tree bobbing across oceans, far from its home, nine years ago. A product of the engineering acumen and accident from India, akin to many of my fellow compatriots, I landed in New York (another story) for my masters.
My two suitcases carried a small pressure cooker, my engineering books - engineering mathematics primarily and some clothes. I found myself running from JFK to La Guardia with a sports bag slung across, pulling my two ungainly suitcases through the check in counter to catch the next flight to somewhere.
Fast forward a decade, and I found myself cleaning my apartment. My two suitcases stared at me. Never used since, the sturdy but really unmanageable VIPs eyed me like lost friends meeting in eons. We shook hands smiled, I pried them for details - of my past. I found my engineering mathematics books, some old pictures from school, a tire that had wiggled itself loose and ten years of solitude. Somehow somewhere, amongst all the darn stuff that lay in my apartment, the two suitcases suddenly became my prized possessions. A wave of nostalgia - old letters from friends, notes to myself, pictures from the past, everything came back at the speed of two VIPs being rolled frantically across the check in counter of La Guardia eager to catch a flight in thirty minutes. Also present where the truck load of stuff that I had accumulated over the years, tons of technical articles, wonderful pictures from my days attempting at what I thought was educating myself. My life as an adventure, nothing grandiose, definitely nothing of which heroes like Edmund are born off, but somehow like water from the mountains, knowing its course, yet resisting, frolicking and playing hard, jumping into the still unknown. My life at the speed of two suitcases rolling across La Guardia.

The Wandering Mind

2008-08-03T22:38:00.005-06:00

The mind, is never silent. It often wanders aimlessly, never learning to be quite, never stopping, even to look within.
"All things are preceded by the mind, led by the mind, created by the mind." - Lord Buddha.

Note: Photo taken around Whiterock lake, as I wanderd aimlessly, this late Sunday evening.

99% God 1% Road = 100% India

2008-07-28T05:33:00.008-06:00

Nowhere more will your senses be inundated by the concept "GOD," but in India. On a recent visit to India, as I tackled roads, ok national highways, lets be more specific - NH24, I cursed the entire subcontinent. I decided the next time I meet Kumari Mayawati (CM UP) or whoever the hell is responsible for maintenance and development of the blasted road (in UP), it will be my middle finger which will greet the person instead of piously joint hands. My innards after a mere three hours on the roads were violently shaken to the extent that the large and small intestines had probably jumbled up and reached my foot or arms end (if at all anatomically possible). I was laughing a laugh of one who has seen better days, mirth. I was hysterical how we could pronounce this piece of mud, gravel, potholes with tarmac somewhere in between as a National Highway, and still be "proud to be an Indian".
I look at the greater than 7% GDP growth rates with indifference, for since time immemorial, these roads have been deteriorating. Not even double digit growth rates will bring a change, or so my demurred spirit believes, I hope I will be proven wrong and soon enough too. The hullabaloo of Indian superpower, our politicians dancing in Delhi over atomic energy and US slavery, the 1 crore notes to buy MP's, makes me wonder have these folks never driven on NH 24! For man if you had, you would remember your karma, you would be transformed by end of the journey, no wonder trials and tribulations have a purpose in the Hindu philosophy, for life would be impossibly wrong without them.
I am sure the state is similar elsewhere, I recollect with great passion, my youthful days, when I undertook a 900 km journey on a 1983 Bajaj Super from Pune to Bhopal. Ah utter madness, you say, looking back I couldn't agree more. What strikes out in the entire journey, other than the great adventure and the self discovery and the other blah blah blah, is my utter disappointment and shell shock, when I found that the state highway disappeared into nothing but a gravel road with no tar of any sort, just pure gravel strewn in a roughly drawn line across the state of MP.
I should have known things would not change, even with our 3.3 million or so Gods all rubbing at my nose the fact that I am in India. I could find GOD every where in this land, but not a decent piece of tarmac.
I was brought rapidly to acknowledge the fact that we now have Porsche showrooms in India. OK. I truly felt sorry for the bloke who brought one, maybe he could fly it to Mumbai and then drive to Pune, then fly it to Delhi and drive to Jaisalmer or Agra, if the brave soul should so decide on NH 24 and Nainital, then hopefully one of the 3.3 million or so Gods will pull out a miracle to make it in one piece, for much that I would like to believe it, I don't think the laws of physics will allow it.
To pass time, and having reached the tail end of my counting abilities (on the number of potholes), I began to think of innovative ways to market the "Great Indian Tarmac". Maybe we could hold the next off-road er on-road rally here, maybe DARPA's autonomous vehicle test bed would be the NH 24, the greatest stretch of dirt biking routes - everything in NH 24, even GOD after the trial and tribulations of 272 km from Delhi to Kathgodam. Ah did I mention, bridges that disappeared.

Hiking in New Mexico

2008-07-28T05:13:00.004-06:00

This picture was taken hiking out in the Baldies Wilderness Area in New Mexico in a trip in Aug 2007, while purists may argue about it not following the norms of photography, I think its a nice picture. Lets just forget the blowing your own horn deal for a while, shall we ;-)
Baldies area is truly beautiful at this time of the year and is a must visit.

Maybe this was love...

2008-07-11T23:57:00.008-06:00

Ah what times, she chided, looking at his salt pepper hair, with streaks of the times spent in happiness and worries. Worries, about the future, the present and sometimes the past.
He smiled at her, eying her through the corner of his eye, looking at the only person whom he loved enough. Enough to change himself.
He remembered the days, when he was a wild man, hungry for life, rushing up mountains and hills with the care of the devil. He was glad, he had lived to meet her.
But everything was not sweet, there were times when he pined for the freedom, the easy life - or so he thought. She missed it too, her family, now reduced to just occasional phone calls, the sacrifices they had made to see her kids through college, the days he was just plain selfish.
Maybe this was love, she thought, as they looked at there grand children, married and moving on, divorces and separations, successes and failures everything that only a generation of life can teach you.
Maybe it took a lifetime to understand it truly... she looked at his graying eyes seeing only herself. Maybe this was love...

Note: Picture taken with my point and shoot at the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, near Knoxville TN

The Full Cupboard of Life

2008-07-03T23:49:00.007-06:00

In the relatively calm comfort of a chair on the shores of the tiny White Rock Lake, I was exploring Botswana as never before. As you read through the pages, you realize, how small things can be so intriguing, for a second you forget, the screaming of voices, the screeching of cars and even the chirping of birds. For a second, you are there on the edge of the Kalahari, with the distant sand dunes and a rising sun, red like blood.
There are few authors who write prose as effectively and simply as Mr. Alexander McCall Smith. For those of you who have never leafed through his work, begin with "The #1 Ladies Detective Agency" which I picked up after a friend of mine insisted. Truly to my amazement, Mr. McCall Smith, drives us to Gaborone, Lobatse and the myriad towns at the edge of the desert from the comfort of our chairs and divans. One can almost see Maa Ramotswe right around the corner, striding at a comfortable pace in her traditionally built frame, or the clever Maa Makutsi in her flush green shoes and large glasses eying a dough nut. Of course the old Botswana values are floating around in your head as you go about flicking through the pages almost nonstop. I lived in Gaborone for almost four years (as a kid) and I cannot see it better than the wonderful description by Mr. Smith.
The entire series is like a vacation for the soul, wonderful and easy reading, something that leaves you smiling.

Street art from Hsinchu

2008-06-29T11:26:00.003-06:00

Picture taken walking down the dark nooks in Hsinchu, Taiwan May 17th, 2008

Graffiti in Taipei

2008-06-29T11:20:00.004-06:00

Graffiti as caught using my point and shoot, on the walls while walking around the streets of Taipei. (I was there on a business trip in May 08)
PS Note picture was cropped.

How to Survive Anything

2008-06-29T00:43:00.004-06:00

I was going through my "Adventure" magazine and as usual was excited at the unexplored places that I could possibly visit and the things that I could do - unfortunately the list keeps growing (I currently subscribe to two magazines - one being the National Geographic and the other being Adventure)
The front cover of this months Adventure indicated in bold "How to Survive Anything" Well Almost anything. I was glad that they had the words "Almost" there albeit in parenthesis.
In December in a snow mobiling accident around Telluride, my Nikon D200 was severely damaged, the compact flash compartment was broken, the rear LCD was non functional, the rear panel was busted with apparent crack marks. I had written off this beautiful machine which I so cherished.
I had broken the beautiful 18-70 mm lens to pieces - and I thank my stars for that as I maintain that my camera snagging on a tree probably saved me from a few broken bones or worse :-)
Then one weekend, I set about to lay to rest my dear machine and I put an add on Craigslist for anyone who wanted to buy a busted D200 along with pictures.
As I got responses I realized how much I loved my camera, the thought of parting with it - even in its utterly useless state got me working. I called Nikon up and sent my camera to the repair shop. 230$ later, my faithful Nikon is back and under ambient night time conditions I shot a photo of this months Adventure with my D200 - truly we can survive anything - or almost anything. I wonder what would be the cost to repair disillusioned souls - maybe a jolt of fresh air in the mountains, wind through your hair and a little dusting of good friends and family and presto you are back as new - having survived anything - or Almost Anything.
I need to buy a new lens though as I am currently using an old 24-70 mm Sigma lens at the moment.

The Color of Granite

2008-04-17T21:36:00.006-06:00

There was a time when the exquisite beauty of stone could only be felt by the harshest of souls. When, it took a curse from your lips to fumble with gravity on old hemp ropes and raise your spirits higher than the clouds on the rough-hewn granite faces of mountains, known only to a select few.
Today I roamed around with a piece of stone in a hardware store, polished to a mirror fine glaze, the rough texture ironed out by machines, to reduce any resemblance of its majestic beauty to nothing but a distant dream from the past. The soul of the stone its graininess and texture, the process of slow and fast cooling - the sublimation of minerals, like the qualities of ones character, refined with time, gave birth to fancy names like "Verde Ubatuba" and "Santa Cecilia Gold"
I stood there looking at the polished surface, matching the color of the granite slab with the tiles from China, for the back-splash. I fancied at the color of paints that would go in the living room and the kitchen. A part of me was extremely happy and a part of me felt sorry.
It was pointless to think about the stone, I knew I was sorry for this highly integrated society, which eliminated any resemblance from what nature is and what nature means things to be. We all are in a rush, we need our "Verde Ubatuba's" in their cold polished forms to place chopping blocks and cook. We forget what the stone felt under our feet, a thousand meters above sea level. We forgot what it meant to soar....

(Note to self: For a guy driving a big SUV this sounds hypocritical)

A silent poet

2008-03-02T00:27:00.007-06:00

A silent poet, a sailor in time, I stood here as you passed by,
Waving, cheering, smiling at anything that caught your attention,
I stood still, my branches sodden with rain, my core cold,
I shed my leaves like tears of parted love, one at a time,
You came back, cheering at the sun, in your winter coats,
I lay quite, silent, smiling, I had shed all my leaves,
I knew spring was here.....

Note: Photo taken from my point n shoot on a beautiful evening at whiterock lake as I sat near the pier reading a book (could not bike today due to stiff legs)

The Cycle Crash

2008-02-28T23:02:00.006-06:00

Sometimes pictures say it all. After a bleeping crash around white rock. The analysis of what happened at the moment is vague and morphed by the waning endorphins.

A Beautiful Winter

2008-02-17T00:24:00.006-06:00

Ouray Dec 25, 2007

A white sheet spread across the land, like a bridal dress, glittering everywhere. The brazen winds from north bite through the old leathery continent, shredding every scrap of life to a shivering corpse. The snow flakes fall like fat diamonds from a bleak sky. A sky, dull behind dark clouds and a blazing sun. It's winter, its that time of the year. At night she lifts her veil to a million suns and a crescent moon.
It too shall part ways, lost like innocence in a field of dreams, leading to a warm summer.

"Where have I come from?"

2008-02-16T23:06:00.005-06:00

She answered half crying, half laughing,
"You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling,
You were in the dolls of my childhood's games,
and when with clay I made the image of my god every morning,
I made and unmade you then,
In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, you have lived"

Adapted from a poem written by Rabindranath Tagore.

I thought about the day, about how much better a bright sun would have been. As I lay back reflecting on the gloomy day, brooding about the rain. I was reading a book at the corner book store, when I came across these two lines

"Where have I come from?"
"You were hidden in my dreams...."

I realized reflecting on the day and reading these two lines above, the dreams the wishes the joy and happiness that every child ushers in this world. I feel sorry as I read and see young kids running in the streets selling newspaper, polishing shoes, working in a cafe when they should be learning and living. I realize the dreams that were not to be and a childhood that was lost. I think of the day and I realize my utter stupidity...

When Adam Learned to Fly

2008-01-11T00:14:00.001-06:00

No you cant fly, you have no wings. You should learn to walk. Walk this earth HE said and smiled. And then HE created the mountains and the valleys.

As kids we often find ourselves climbing the backyard tree, running up a small grassy knoll, rooting with joy when we are up high some where. We clamor to know what lies beyond the boundary walls, climbing as high as we possibly can to quench our thirst of curiosity and adventure.
As childhood takes the turn towards sense and sensibility, we forget what it means to climb a tree, to shout our lungs out from the highest hill. We become intelligent, smart in our manners, making choices - the right choices, our humor becomes animated and we forget the simple trivial joy of living.
We often become yet another human being in this tireless world of many. Long gone is the small kid who ran up the hill, out of breath smiling with unbridled joy. Or is there a small spark left somewhere in a dark corner of our cluttered souls, eager to get out. The spark that fills us with joy when we see a snow covered mountain another green valley.....

PS Picture taken in the fading light of a long day hiking up Half Dome in Yosemite on Aug 2006. We lost Sir Edmund Hillary today, a person who brought back memories of us climbing the trees in our backyards and the hills where we grew, a person who taught us "Yes we have wings, we can fly"

The Golden Prairie

2008-01-06T15:40:00.000-06:00

The world is changing, she looked straight in my eyes and said that. With a smile, that told you she knew it all. I stood there looking at the old house, the family that we had raised together. The times we had spent in love and out of love. Those cold winter days, sitting by the warm hearth reading of an even colder north. Then the warm summers, when her bright red skirt, the deep blue eyes and her rich black hair darker than the blackest night, made your heart flutter. I sighed.
She held my hand and whispered in my ear, I love you. I looked at her bold blue eyes and knew nothing had changed. We were still young, starting another life together....

PS: It was a beautiful day today for early January. I took this picture with my" Point and Shoot" driving along the side roads of I20East.

A Prayer

2008-01-03T00:34:00.001-06:00

On a busy corridor in Longshang Temple, I found her. I found her, ashen by the settling dust of time. Her face contoured beautifully with lines that had endured a lifetime. Yet she sat straight with poise and enviable grandeur, there was no sense of remorse, no hint of regret in her calm eyes. Her posture told you of tribulations she overcame. I wondered, sitting far away, what she was praying for. Was it for a friend she missed, someone dear that time had snatched away? Was it for the health and prosperity of her children and her grandchildren?
I waited a long time, the cool November breeze slowly started to warm up in the faint light of a graying sky. I waited for her to get up, smile and walk away. To help me solve the mystery that her eyes hid.
Then I looked at my watch it was close to two, I had to leave for the next train...

Monosyllables

2007-11-29T23:50:00.000-06:00

Monosyllables, these have always made interesting conversation, a guy proposes to a girl, dates for seven years, thinks for 30 straight days (ok more for few - in minutes for many) on the phrases, the exact words, the moment. After all this toil the girl replies, in a decisive "yes". A monosyllable, people understand each other well, well enough is determined if and only if they can describe an entire days score - how it went, were they happy, were they sad, did they get the things done, what they achieved - all in one pure simple, clearly understood "MONOSYLLABLE".
Yet umpteen authors have described just the shade of her eyes in tomes, mind you just the shade, we are not talking about expressions here - and still the monosyllable survives. Heck, one monosyllable a simple four letter word which more people have described as their land of origin than probably any other, can describe a plethora of emotions. In fact the FCC declared the term "fucking brilliant" to be neither indecent nor inappropriate, and yet, I cannot emphasize this enough, we miss the power of a monosyllable. In some parts of Europe this monosyllable might be mistaken for a blubbery seal but then they are just FRENCH!!! (This is all in good humor)

Anyways, having lamented a while and having landed on the south pole when I was clearly in my honest opinion, making a bee line for the north, let me steer around towards the main course of the discussion - the monosyllables. I have been down with a cold for the past few days. My ghastly attempts at recuperating from this formidable blasted virus found me in the bathroom brushing my teeth every eight hours!!!

No bells ringing, but hells gate is close by trust me.

I was about to hit the sack after having downed a glass of milk and turmeric powder with the hope of getting well soon. I hope bells have rung by now. Turmeric, teeth, get the picture!!!! GAWD

Clearly that was more than genteel steering. I know some of you blokes can blame it on your wives (lucky bastards) for the others there is alcohol and bad genes, IQ was a bitch anyways.

Head back NORTH, NORTH, NORTH ......

I was brushing my teeth, smiling at myself at how clever I was to have tricked the cold with this age old medicine when a thought struck to me. One word a monosyllable, a single letter. More potent than any four letter or forty lettered one. I realized how as a human I ill treated this gentle yet powerful single letter, this most important, the base, the prime, the ying and da man. I realized that I needed an owners manual to "I"

The Namesake

2007-11-01T23:58:00.000-06:00

Sitting in another office in Hsinchu waiting for another engineer to show up, I finished the last pages of the book "The Namesake" by Jhumpa Lahiri. It is quite an interesting read. It is uncanny how shockingly accurately the life of Ashima and Ashoke are depicted. How many of us can identify to one of the characters in the novel. Jhumpa writes in an articulate simple and clean manner, devoid of nonsensical descriptions or details down to the color of ones hair, the picture painted is one clear and void of unnecessary granularity.
The story is melancholic, quite yet as complex as a thriller making you want to finish the entire book in one sitting. Definitely recommended, I am waiting to get back to Dallas so that I can rent the movie and see how well it does justice to the book.

PS while the book revolves around the word Gogol, it makes you want to pick up some of the old Russians and read them over again. On the same note I recently read another book "The kite runner" written by an Afghanistani American author Khaled Hosseini and I was quite moved by this book too. Once again waiting to see the movie. Having finished all my reading material, I have to buy another book from Taipei on my way back. Tonight I explore the shady nooks of Taipei looking for lost love ;-0

Loneliness

2007-11-01T00:26:00.000-06:00

Sitting in the company of many chattering voices,
When suddenly, a tear cruises down her cold cheek,
Blushed, ashamed, she asks the tear,
Friend, why embarrass me at such inappropriate moments,
Visit me when I am alone, lonely,
The tear replied, In the company of many,
I found you lonely, and hence I came....

Note:
Adapted from an old verse that I heard somewhere a long time back.
Remembered sitting close to Chiang kai-shek memorial Taipei on a beautiful day...

A morning (in Kumaon)

2007-07-22T00:00:00.001-06:00

(Photo shot in Champawat, Uttaranchal )
Note Photograph is not taken by Author.

There will be a morning, such that it will blow the mist from the hills down the valley, brining with it the much needed rain, wealth and prosperity.
So my people thought and prayed for aeon's. To the Sun God, the Winds, Mother Nature and the other million Gods who's name can be found in any travel guide on India. My people were wrong. The morning that blew the mist from the hills came and brought rain, a good crop but no prosperity at least in the conventional sense (or so I thought). Were the Gods playing tricks with them? Were they being tested for character, for faith. And thus in the dusty bowls of Himalayas, they continued to struggle, working hard from morning to evening, on a spit of land handed down from father to son since time immemorial. The lands had shrunk to a pea size, by being cut into smaller quarters amongst brothers. My people toiled in the sun, the winter, the cold and the rain. But there was no prosperity.
Hardy people they are, there dreams grew bleary, there eyes moist, and there hope like a flickering candle on a gusty night begin to wane. Then came the outer world to my people. With it, this world brought, more than a days meal. It brought vehicles that spit smoke, trucks that ate their forests, their land and their dreams.
Innocent, like children they waited, waited to see what these roads, these trucks these people wearing strange clothes brought to them. The elders grew tired, the rivers bled and the mountains shrugged, my people did not grow rich. Out of there wretched lives arose a feeling of loss, as the man who made roads cut down their forest incessantly, for wealth and greed. Out of this feeling arose anger and frustration. Anger brought about from a loss of what was their own, what was their life and what sustained and bore them. In 1973 - before any state government in India embraced a need to save our dwindling natural resources - The Chipko Movement was born in a small village. About 40 women embraced trees preventing the modern man and his tools to severe the artery of the Himalayas for making bats and other sporting goods.
I often wonder about prosperity, wealth, education, culture and I realize that in a much mundane way, the people of this region were rich beyond their dreams. They knew that nature could provide enough for there needs not there greeds (MKG). Somehow somewhere, I sense that this feeling is something which all of us carry around, we know the importance of nature, of trees of a green earth, somehow we always keep lusting for more. Probably prosperity and education needs to be redefined to reflect a more appropriate man.
Isn't the darkest hour just before the first rays of dawn....
It's time for us to rise from our slumber.

Note: Deforestation is still a huge problem in the hills in India (and the developing world to a great extent). Living with primitive technology people of the Indian Himalayas have learned to live with nature harmoniously. However more needs to be done by people like you, me and the government - to provide renewable resources, eco-friendly tourism and alternatives to wean us from our "forest rich" diet. Education and means to reduce depletion of our natural resources needs to be spearheaded in this region of India. The nearest schools are still miles away from villages with limited resources (often one teacher), no class room furniture, no money for books etc.

Windy City

2007-07-12T22:43:00.001-06:00

Drove down from my hotel to downtown Chicago, to the "Windy + City" (go figure) clue is in the picture (Note: If it takes more than 1 neuron to decipher, please seek immediate medical attention.

Solitude

2007-05-28T02:34:00.000-06:00

Driving to a place called NOWHERE

I started off in the wee hours of a warm Dallas night on a journey which had no purpose and no final destination. Unlike life which has a purpose, a goal, an aim, this was an exercise to seek solitude, an exercise to seek "nothingness". A definite path could not be a way to seek solitude for it dictates steps - a methodology, and when you are looking for no purpose, but just a realization of yourself, there cannot be a path towards it. Here you are exploring the void, without knowledge of what you might find, did men and women go on a junket at the spur of the moment and find something never discovered before?
So with my rental car (a glitzy Toyota Camry with all the bling a 60$ rental will fetch for four days). I headed off towards the general direction of New Mexico. A journey or roughly 1500 miles over three days.
My goal was simple, a nothingness, a need for purposeless wanderings. Why you, ask would one seek a purposeless wandering. Now the question itself has an oxymoron-ic twist to it. The aim, to answer your question in a rather trite manner was to discover - find oneself. It was an exercise in introspection.

Finding solitude in the confluence of Red River and Rio Grande in the Red River Gorge in New Mexico

So on I went driving all night after a "Vente" from my local Starbucks shop (Which incidentally the Starbucks girl let me have for free along with tidbits for the way - reminds me I have to take her for dinner one of these days.) Heavily caffeinated, I drove till five in the morning at which point I took a break at a gas station, having entered New Mexico. After my quick thirty minute wink, I set about towards Las Vegas (NM). This quaint little town has a character of a two dollar whore, one needless to say you will not remember reflecting at the waning lights of your yester years, but something which will be fun to the senses for the moment. Then who says, all towns should have a personality after all.

On we (I and the Toyota) headed towards Taos a place I had visited five years ago..... Memories, Love, Hatred-ness, Greed, Pride. I have buried them all in the coffins of my alter egos. Long dead, they float down the Rio, silent as a cold December night, when all you hear is the crinkle of snow as the night makes trees shiver with cold.
No I was not off on a tangent, this is what I remembered that morning as I was driving, that I was in New Mexico a long time back, a time when I was burying all these things underneath mountains and monuments. I was successful.

What I could not bury I carried with me, labeled it experience and filed it in a cabinet. Drawing from it a plan for my future - one with purpose, life and a direction to it - unlike my trip.

I stopped in Taos, I felt I had reached a resting place. A place for my coffins. I hiked down the Red river gorge, my backpack had my tent, some food, a head lamp and a sleeping bag, enough stuff to keep me comfortable and happy. It was warm and sunny. I met people with coffins too, wandering about, with the big wooden boxes of old oak, decorated grandly and labeled memories. They, unlike me decided to file and store them, carry them around. Myself, I was going to drown them in the Rio and let go of them, content with just my backpack to carry around. I hiked down, I took my coffins from my cabinet, where I had carefully stored them, filed and labeled as experience, with pointers, sticky notes and indexes to refer to - incase of an emergency. I let go of them now. I hiked on, skipping from rock to rock, happy, with just my backpack and my gear. I am alive.

Hiking around camp in the evening down in the gorge

A Life Less Ordinary

2007-05-15T09:06:00.000-06:00

Mahatma Ghandi has rarely visited me, much so of late. Neither in visions nor in flashbacks of a life long gone by. However as I lay in my sleeping bag on a cold night in a whiteout on Mt. Baker a thought from this wise man struck me.
"Live as if to die tomorrow, learn as if to never die"

While the motto is easier said it does get a lot mushy when in practice, it is an advise to try every whence possible though. After months of slogging off at the office (well not close to that but it does sound a lot dramatic though), I decided to head out to the cascade mountains and spend some time there climbing and trekking. It was wonderful four days and I will write a complete trip description as soon as I get home. Today I am in Seattle, meanwhile enjoy this picture taken at around five in the morning after climbing for over two hours on the coleman glacier in Mt. Baker.

April and the past weekend

2007-05-07T23:14:00.000-06:00

My exams are over, all three courses went well and I did good. This was April 27th and off I went from the exam hall heading straight as the crow flies to Sherlock's. Many a thirsty scholars and not to be scholars have called upon Sherlock's as the ultimate quenching hole on a warm sunny Friday afternoon. The charm is magnified by the many Guinness that one inevitably ends up drinking to the tally ho of Irish and English tunes throw in women scantily dressed to impress and make a kill and you have a squelchy, if you know what I mean.

So after my adventures at Sherlock, I spent Saturday recuperating. The day was pleasant and there were chores to be completed. I made an appointment to the optometrist and got myself some shades. Three years of wearing my scratched glasses made me look like a modern day Gandhi except that this one ogles at dames - not a pretty picture.

Now a days I am training for my Mt. Hood climb - this coming weekend. I am really looking forward to it and its going to be fun. Yesterday I climbed 132 floors (or rather the equivalent) at the gym. I have been cycling 10 miles every other day to build my aerobic strength and am scheduled to climb another 132 floors on the stair master 6000 tomorrow. Wednesday I will cycle 10 miles and I think I should be ready for the climb after that.

We start climbing at midnight on Saturday (0000hrs). Will post pictures as soon as I return.
Cheers

New Additions

2007-04-14T23:54:00.000-06:00

Its a late Saturday evening and after a glimpse of a soon to come summer, we are back to the cold brazen windy days of winter. Dallas weather is one of constant surprises, its four seasons compressed in a week and sometimes even a day. Yesterday there was a good dime sized hail with a couple of tornadoes also touching ground in neighboring counties. It was an interesting evening. There has been a new addition to the family tree and a teen one at that. I brought a teen aged Fukien tea bonsai the last weekend, and the lady is doing fairly well. Bonsai are very interesting, its an art form painted with patience. This will actually be my second Bonsai, in a true sense the first one was a mallsai (brought from wal-mart) and was well on its way towards heaven since its time in China.
I will keep you updated on how this one does, there are some other things that come to mind however at the moment, typing at an awkward position is not really very encouraging.

The rhythm of love

2007-03-19T08:23:00.000-06:00

(Dedicated to a friend of mine...)

Friday evening and she pulls out of the busy freeway,
Stops for coffee, smiles at the breeze, as her hair sways,
Not, I tell you, is she a woman you will have a fling with,
For her compassion lies not in the lust in her eyes,
But in the wild passionate love in her heart,
Player, my friend, my earthly soul,
I know you will try to edge her, a Martini,
Hoping in all hopes that tonight, it’s your role,
As you dab cologne and wear those Armani’s,
As you drive a Toyota and dream of Ferraris,
It’s your role, it’s your role,
I know it’s going in your head,
Its blaring loud and yet you ignore it,
As if your ears have morphed and turned to lead,

She will not look at you, she will ignore you,
But from the corner of her eyes, she will want you,
You with your Toyota and with dreams of Ferraris,
As you dissolve in the ether of humanity,
You realize she is beautiful, too beautiful perhaps,
Perhaps, for you will never find out,
For you never took the step, you never cleared the clout,
You were too involved in your own sense of security,
Waiting for the step, the sign, some promiscuity,
You drive off, thinking damn she was good,
Just too good for you...
Alas, she thought the same...

The story goes on

2007-03-18T22:07:00.000-06:00

The story continues, today being a Sunday was one of those days. Spelled in caps BUSY - thats how it was. I am afraid my blog has turned into a status sheet for the day, as I have been utterly busy over the past few days. Today I took my work to a coffee shop next to my place till late in the evening as internet services at my place were sketchy at the best. I came to work later at around 5pm and now its 11pm and I am still stuck here. I am getting ready to leave though and enjoy my remaining Sunday ;-). There is a positive side to things though, I met a nice girl at the coffee shop.

Yesterday was nice and wonderful and I played soccer with some friends later we went and did some bbq by the lake.

Ah yes one more thing, I developed some pictures that I had taken to 20x24" size yesterday and have dropped them off to Michael's for framing. I am going to start framing my photos hence forth or find a cheaper place in Dallas to do so as this the frames are just killing me.

PS Incase you did not guess it (the location), I took the photograph above in Moab using a Canon EOS 20D.

Desert

2007-03-15T20:36:00.000-06:00

I was browsing through some pictures that I had taken a while back on a trip to Utah and I came across this picture, this was taken in the dry canyons of Utah, its amazing how even in the most arid of climes life finds a way. The power of life is so strong that neither the driest deserts nor the coldest waters can stifle it. It thrives with a beauty so radiant and diverse that just observing it brings an inner peace in us. A peace which you feel when you hear the rumble of waves breaking on rocky shores, a peace which you experience on the soft fluffiness of snow flakes or in the calm eyes of someone you love.
This my friend is what mankind has spent ages searching for, a sense of inner peace is what we all need, peace in the raucousness of life blaring at three million miles a second.

Climbing and Random Thoughts

2007-03-15T00:40:00.000-06:00

Two weeks ago, my friend and I went out to do some climbing around Dallas. We were up in Mineral Wells area and it was a wonderful day to do some top roping. I am positing a picture of my friend climbing.
About to go to bed, I saw a wonderful Italian movie today, it was very well directed, the name eludes me at the moment, however will post it tomorrow. It comes to my mind that
Love is like a ship, its made of the strongest steel man can weld, yet it sinks at the sigh of an iceberg.
Enough of philosophy for today, gotta go win the day tomorrow. G'night.

Cold

2007-02-25T10:09:00.001-06:00

The human body is a wonder, I have been down with a terrible cold for the past couple of days and am hoping to recover soon. I have overdosed myself with Vitamin C hopefully there are no ill effects like me growing another arm or something of the sort.

There is nothing interesting to say today.
Take care,
N

Wide Open Spaces

2007-02-18T21:48:00.000-06:00

The concrete jungle makes you old. Like a vine - slowly but surely, reducing to dust, walls that have weathered mighty armies. The cubicles, the restaurants, the coffee shops they encroach upon you and slowly very little of what you are remains, as days wither to aeon's, under the flicker of florescent light and plasma screens, you forget who you once were and what was your purpose in life is. You are nothing but a tiny mote in the grand jigsaw of life.
To get out from this imprecation, its recommended to visit wide open spaces, spaces that know no boundaries, spaces that are not delineated with small walls and flickering screens, spaces that are void of the all too familiar tap tap of the keyboards.
It was to this calling that this Sunday I decided to go out a get some air above my thatch of black hair. I drove at the not too wee hours of Sunday (0900hrs) to Graham Tx. On the banks of the meandering Brazos river lies paradise, which enamors rock climbers from the DFW region to drive over ninety miles, to relax, enjoy and feel the freedom to which the entire human race is born to, but only a few realize and cherish.
It was a fun day climbing today, the weather was beautiful, there was the chill of a late February wind in the air, the warmth of a playful sun was beating upon us, and clouds were playing hide and seek in the azure skies above. The river itself is like a beautiful lady, the gentle lapping of the water sounded like the rustle of silk she was wearing, it was magical to be out, to have known this freedom.
I did some sport climbing and top roping today, it was nice, there is a lot to learn and live for. Life indeed is wonderful.

PS The picture above is taken on top of half dome in Yosmite National Park, in Sept 2006.

Life passes by

2007-01-31T00:06:00.000-06:00

Soemtime life is too fast (though a ton of fun). I just dont have the time to write, its been a lot of changes of late and not enough hours to manage everything.

One does at times miss the days when you could shout MOMMMMMMM and things used to get solved eh!

Fedora is breathing

2007-01-21T23:35:00.000-06:00

Just FYI, this post is from my Fedora machine, it took its first breath yesterday afternoon. There are still some bugs that I am trying to figure out. I usually do not post much about anything technical on this post, I am just plain excited to get back to the hermits (pronounced LINUX) world.
This weekend I did some climbing in the gym and went for my Yoga class yesterday. It was nice and sunny today for a change. The weather in Dallas has been just bollocks for the past 10 days, and the sunshine was a much welcome change (Though the weather is now back to its ugly self again- really not as bad as I make it sound though). I decided not to mountainbike as the trails were still wet and instead went for a nice jog in the afternoon. I did about 6 miles.

Getting ready for the week, I have already cooked today ha ha ha (for the entire week YAHOOOOOO)
Thats all for now, there are some urgent chores that I just remember need my immediate attention.

Of kings, kingpins and horses

2007-01-20T01:03:00.001-06:00

On a beautiful cold evening, over a cheap cup of coffee

I come from a great line of chiefs, my grandfather and his grandfathers have always ruled this land, like rulers they have been astute to the needs of there people, shrewd and at times highly just. Just beyond the realms of justice itself.

Was that the need of the hour and should I let it go at that is a question that bothers me often. I think about it and some circuits in my brain fire up, I am left with images of sinew and bone crunching together, a swift trained hand wielding a sword, like thunder it shatters space. It slices through matter creating the vacuum of fragmented limbs and crushed bones. Is that some ancestral warlord somewhere within me that makes me dive from the highest heights and makes me run around the four corners of this world seeking solace in the perfect niche of insanity which I reason as adventure or is it plain youth? I will never know the answers not till I am old enough beyond my years of this doubted wisdom I forebear.

I want to bask in the bastion of sensibility, which asks me why. Why am I the way I am? Why do I laugh at thunder bursting 20 yards from me? Shock waves propagate through space and time and make me realize who I am. I sigh off this power as a piffling absurdity of nature! I do not wield the lance of life and death like many of my forefathers before me, who plagued my land for women and earthly pleasures. That’s not peace for me. My reason is my friend but at times it’s no where to be found. Neither in that burst of lightning, nor in the plunge to ecstasy from thirteen thousand feet with a sail cloth as your friend, nor in the strongest wind on a vertical cliff.

I realize sometimes that I am a chief too. Unlike my grandfathers and there grandfathers though, my war cry does not shrivel their enemies member into a dysfunctional organ, nor does it explode the chests of others, it just brings a gush of blood, flooding my senses with warmth. My senses dance with joy, my nerves are taut and my body relaxed when I breathe the thinnest air on this planet.

I have become a pawn of the jungle though, a jungle of concrete and humanity. I relish in cheap wine and urban adventures, putting to waste the fury with which my ancestors rode horses to conquer their enemies, the static of time and inertia of eons now rides me.

I try and shake them from my back, seeking a purpose. Who am I?

Things change with time, I say to myself, I too wield a sword, not of steel nor caked with dried blood but one of reason and endurance where my scabbard is patience.

Am I a chief too, yes I am a chief. Who are my enemies? Who do I rule over? Where is my kingdom? I do not have all the answers, I am like many before me still seeking it.

My memoirs from Delhi (2004)

2007-01-20T00:45:00.000-06:00

Wheeee…. the sound of the landing gears and wind sweeping at close to 150 as the plane touched down on the blessed and blighted country of technological and spiritual gurus. A country where cell phones and a six year boy selling news papers at a busy traffic light grew hand in hand. It’s difficult to know what kind of harmony existed between the two, but surely the contrast couldn’t be more explicit, sky high buildings and people sleeping in the city chowks

this was the blessed and the blighted land called INDIA and yes in bold and capitals.

No country has the personality that India boasts of and surely no where can your experience be the same. The mystery and magic of India lives with you throughout your life, surely it’s a land of the Gods. No wonder someone said “I believe in God because I have seen India work” or something to the order.

I am sitting in the lobby of a paltry hotel, in a well known district of Delhi. Cheap in nature yet rich in its price, I ate a sumptuous meal of purees and sabzi with my hands -using cutlery to its bare minimum for eyes were not staring at me blatantly thinking what an outrage this was, nor were people wondering how uncivilized I was just because I used what no silver ware in this world could match – my own fingers. Somehow the taste was magnified and I smiled at this gleeful indulgence reveling and cherishing every moment of it. My friend I am Indian. Why do I boast of all this and tell these pompous stories when I was born in India and spent a large part of my childhood here but now call Dallas my home? I guess it’s a fascination and the excitement this land brings to me and one can never be too happy. It’s the memories of my childhood with my friends, spent in the dusty earth laden cities of India. It’s the smell of the monsoons when they first kiss earth, it’s the childhood that though long gone was never forgotten.

I do not have a purpose or a part in my ramblings they are things as they come to me. I live and die magnificiently everyday but something’s are worth the effort to harness your mind and burn it in pen and paper.

Self Potraits

2007-01-18T23:45:00.000-06:00

This picture was taken in Jasper, AB. Where I was in Dec with a friend. I have been back only 15 days and it seems eternity.

We did some iceclimbing and it was great fun. This picture was taken after a multipitch climb in a small canyon. Post trip nirvana = great appreciation for 1. Moosehead 2. Iceclimbing.

Somethings Cooking

2007-01-16T21:18:00.000-06:00

Truly, there could not be a better title to this blog. The emphasis being on the key operator "Something" You guessed it, I did some COOKING or shall we say experiments today, I came home around 8 in the evening. I was terribly hungry. I have decided is to do more home-cooking and less of eating outside, the reasons being health and money. If it was not so icy cold, I would normally have gone for my jog, however Dallas' been braving the arctic winter, yep and its in the deep south. I decided against it (A rightful decision - so I should say).

With all the four hours or the day to myself, I decided to bite the bullet and jive on. It all started up with an ambtious dream of cooking chicken, soup and a vegitable. I had brought some bell peper the last time I visited CM and decided to give this a shot. However as I was grilling the chicken, I realized that why not just combine the three as anyways the nutrient content is just going to be a simple airtmetic summation of the same. I should have known that mathematics while good on paper, does not necessarily add up on practice, that is not to say 2+2 =5 but rather close to 4.123!

So after cooking a soup, chicken and vegetable in one single dish and some rice to go with it, I would say 4.123 is not a bad number at all. Its just that I have to concoct an appellation for this novelty that I created, after all who can cook a mushroom soup, chicken and vegetables - all together and yet make it palatable (rather pleasant truthfully speaking - atleast I felt that ways).

Cheers

Resolutions

2007-01-14T20:44:00.000-06:00

Ha ha, I see you smirk as you are reading this post. You are wondering, has he broken down are the resolutions over. Nah my friend, they are still going on strong. I really did not make any resolutions this year. It was more of actions that I want to address. The main topics in the order of importance were as follows

1. Career
2. Education
3. Climbing
4. Personal Life
5. Yoga and self improvement
6. Finances (This is an ongoing one)

These were the main topics of concern that I am supposed to address this year. Now you may blurt out loud Dude this is the entire spectrum of concern that a normal guy might have (not necessarily in this order - probably girls might be at the top but thats besides the matter). To which I would reply yes probably you are right, however the area of concerns also subdivide into specific actions and addresses that at the moment I do not wish to divulge. All 6 action items are going well number 4 might need some help however there is no point in sweating, I leave a bit to serendipity and chance too.... plus the lady(ies) need to know the secret password to join the GROSS club ;-)

New Years

2007-01-08T00:25:00.000-06:00

2007 celebrated while dozing infront of a warm cozy fire in Vancouver Island. It was beautiful, there was a roiling pacific just outside the window. Intense crashing waves, a bottle of wine, ten days in the mountains, and the ticking of the hours passing by as I lay eyes shut infront of the warm fire was how I greeted 2007.

Happy New Year to everyone. :-)

Trees can talk

2007-01-08T00:20:00.000-06:00

Trees can talk. Check this one out in vancouver island.

Multipitch

2007-01-08T00:18:00.000-06:00

Just finished a multipitch climb, its great fun.

Ice Climbing

2007-01-08T00:12:00.000-06:00

Ice climbing near Jasper, its great fun. Go climb.

2007-01-08T00:09:00.000-06:00

This is close to medicine lake I believe, this day we snowshoed about 10 miles. It was great fun, this photograph was taken early morning. It was nice and cold.

Nightlife

2007-01-08T00:06:00.000-06:00

Driving through the local roads, to view the lakes at night, we saw elk, however the light was too poor to get photographs of the same.

Breathless

2007-01-07T23:56:00.000-06:00

Winter in Banff - breathless.

Wonder

2007-01-07T23:51:00.000-06:00

After skiing for eternity there was a view of these majestic mountains which left you wondering... (when can I climb ;-)

2007-01-07T23:44:00.000-06:00

If you could brace the cold there was a trail leading to the glaciers, fully clad in down and all the wintergear one could possibly wear, we pushed on towards the glacier.

2007-01-07T23:41:00.000-06:00

Shrubs growing enroute to Athabasca glaciers which can be seen as a pall of grey and blue in far background. It was bonechilling cold out here.

Feets and Salt

2007-01-07T23:36:00.000-06:00

"Can you count the number of feet I have" says our ungulate fellow out there licking salt in the middle of the icefields parkway ;-)

2007-01-07T23:27:00.000-06:00

Snow, all around us a field of priceless diamonds waiting for the perfect adorement - by your eyes

2007-01-07T23:22:00.000-06:00

Cross contry skied about four miles to this lake, it was amazing. The scenery is wonderful. The beauty uncomparable, raw and bitter sweet.

2007-01-07T23:17:00.000-06:00

Dude where is the road.

It was dark at night and copious amount of fat snow crystals glistened in the headlights making driving a near nightmarish proposition. It was almost impossible to discern if we were moving at all.

2007-01-07T23:14:00.000-06:00

Roads continue to ice up as shown in the pic above, however the driving was not bad at all. Atleast not yet ;-)

2007-01-07T23:13:00.000-06:00

The road conditions while driving to Jasper were great till it started to snow and the roads were iced up. The snow was falling so heavy that at night it was almost impossible to discern if you were moving.

Java Mountains and a "to be" Yogi

2007-01-06T18:02:00.000-06:00

I am sipping some hot coffee, black ofcourse. Its amazing how one can love this stuff. What started off as an ugly looking nasty tasting liquid now has become a daily passion. the extent of which can only be measured by the immense effort (relatively speaking - thanks Einstein) which I take with much pleasure to brew my daily buzz. Coffee addiction to me started when I used to get up early every sunday to go to the airport to fly a Cessna 150 with my instructor, the only buzz that was available in those wee hours of the morning at the airport was black coffee.

Drooping back to the topic that I intented to bring up was my trip to Canada. It was real fun to travel in winter to Banff, Jasper and the surrounding locales. I tried snow shoeing, cross country skiing, ice climbing and to a limited extent downhill skiing. Downhill skiing by far - to my limited ability, appeared to me as the most intense sport with great potential, esp when you are woozing your way down at unstoppable speeds and are faced with the decision to choose ice cold snow or evil looking trees. The fact that I can still post with my ten digits indicates clearly the inkling my butt had for the hard cold snow. The skid marks are still on prominent display every morning painfully to me as I stare myself in the mirror.

The icefields parkway, Athabasca glacier were all fun. Canada is truely very beautiful. I will post a detailed trip report in my next post.

Ah one more thing, after having survived the mountains for two weeks and having had to face the reality which my five feet ten body screamed at me every time I put one foot infront of the other, I decided to l the sweaky joints and the rather atrophied muscles, I joined a Yoga class. I run over six miles every other day under 36 minutes and I was under the opinion that I could stand an hour of twisting and turning and all that mind control stuff. Turns out no one could be further from the truth. While my class mates were pulling two hand stands and poses that I could barely fathom to be real, I was sweating grunting and flipping around like a quarter dancing around before it finally settles down. Lesson learnt, never understimate the 2000 year old stuff as trivial, my respect for the same has increased manyfold, I will let you know how it goes tomorrow. Mean while wish me luck.

Lake Murray

2006-11-26T22:00:00.000-06:00

This picture was taken at Lake Murray.

I took this picture at Lake Murray, it is a little blurred as the light was fading and I did not have my tripod with me. I still like it though.

Tinker is online

2006-11-25T16:28:00.000-06:00

Tinker

This is a blog from an outdoors guy from Dallas Tx. Tinker aims at achieving a fun filled and intelligent way to look at life. Much like the famous character Calvin.
Like Calvin this blog aims at being impulsive, imaginative, curious, intelligent, and selfishly six-year-old.
These are patterings of someone almost five times the age of Calvin, but with the zest of the six year old you know so well.