On a Sunday walk to Landour

One develops a territoriality, stakes a claim on a specific spot at their frequently haunted place. It is as if one has acquired ownership rights by virtue of planting one's behind on a seat for long. How much more rightful must the peasant feel who tills the land!

The library has a peculiar smell. It is the smell of books of old, the letters, the pages, the ink, the binding and the glue, the pictures, the characters and the abstractions of human thought- all breathe. They inhale and exhale, a smell of knowledge, a smell of parched curiousity quenched by a rain of Dewey Decimals.

One sits and breathes. Forget sometimes to exhale and sometimes to inhale, according as the plot rises or falls.

One gazes out of the window from time to time, a day changes, days change- yesterday is like tomorrow which will be like today. A bird sings in the back ground, melancholia filters through air thick with the spirits of the unread books, thick with the spirits of books thumbed through, licked, torn, highlighted, mutilated, loved, issued, returned, stolen.

The sun rise was spectacular today.

A sunrise to watch

The full moon loomed larger than life while the sun light lit up the tops of the hills one by one.

Full moon crashing on to pine trees

Vincent Hill catching the first light

We figured a revisit to the Lal Tibba might be a good idea, now that the snow peaks seem tantalizingly close. The sky was a fifty shades of blue.

A shade of blue

However, the view itself was a disappointment, from Lal Tibba. For one, the trees block the view. And the two tourist traps of cafes/tea stalls were closed and access to the 'Govt Approved' binoculars was cut off by multiple locked doors. There were other places from where the view was quite good, like the point where the road forks, near chaar dukaan. Swargarohini massif was yellow beryl in the first rays of the sun. The honour passed to the Gangotri range peaks-Srikanta, Kedarnath and Chaukhambha as the sun light found these peaks at length. One can spot the various buildings of the academy from afar. The maligned Polo Grounds look innocuous enough from these great distances.

Spot the Polo grounds if you can

The quiet of Lal Tibba yielded fantastic opportunity for bird watching. The quiet also attracts the quiet minded people.

One can reach Lal Tibba by taxi but the fun is in walking and taking in the sights. Then there is Doma's Inn, a restaurant with kitsch interior decoration.

Cute kitsch.

It is a good place to pack in some calories exhasuted by nearly 2 hours of walking and pack some more for the next two hours of exhausting walk. All in all a day well spent.

On a sunset

The sun set on the 3rd of December was the best so far.

The Himalayas were mountains of the moon, shining jagged pieces of blemished silver, looked so sharp and bright as if pain got personalized and projected on to looming granite. Lustrous. The sun did its business for the day and came home for the night, met by the blushing mountains, blushing of the night ahead.

The valleys filled with a gray black haze, a miasma arising from the depths of the earth and filling up the hollows, the crooks and the deepnesses of the valleys while the sunlight fled up the slopes, anti gravitic, hurried and ungentlemanly. The darkness was the ink into which an accidental writer dipped his pen and sketched scenes from memory.

Motor cars turned corners on roads stencilled in to the hill sides, their headlamps intermittent fireflies. Or they were sprites of the seas playing peekaboo with the intense looking sailor gazing at them from the portholes of the upside down star ship Mycadea. The sailor plodded midway through a thin book of stars to chart a course for Mycadea. It was slow work, involved turning pages aided by the infrequent wetting of the index finger tip to provide a grip. The sailor was confused, tired and he clicked the pages with his index finger thinking they were virtual. He felt stupid and so gazed out of the window. It has been 93 days since Mycadea crashed on to this strange sad planet. He had been asked to plot a course to Phase 1 star system. He did not understand the point of the exercise when their star ship was stuck headfirst on a hill on earth. How was the captain planning on getting them unstuck, for instance? How would they be airborne? Do they have enough fuel even to upright themselves? He had no answer and the captain was his usual inscrutable silly self. The cadre comet was a fizzle compared to the anticipation it created. The Toughened Operational Turnips (T-OTs) had already calculated the trajectory and the probable crash points of the comet and braced themselves.

Exhaust vents of Mycadea

The middle ranges were bald nude brown in the sun light and in the rapid night rise were menacing hulks of negative space. Villages on the slopes shone in clusters of light and, to the sailor disoriented by his thoughts, they looked like boats tossed about by gigantic waves. The star ship made sense, but it has capsized, and the aliens and the T-OTs were breathing air trapped under the belly of the boat.

He felt heroic, clever even, for having thought of this analogy. He felt sea sick too, imagining the mountains as waves and himself as driftwood. The villages must be underground cities, populated by pretty mermaids. He thought of all the hill women he saw, prettier than pearls. He wondered if he could stay back on this planet, live in a village for a while, love a lovely hill woman, move to another village, love another woman, an itinerant romantic in eternal search for happiness.

Just then the captain Chip Spik bellowed at him for day dreaming when on the job. He wanted the course on his desk five minutes ago and warned the sailor that in case he falls behind schedule one more time he will be delivered to Ming the Merciless.

 

On A Cat on Cold Tin Roof

I came across a cat in the academy today. In itself it is nothing to write about. However, it is the first time I have noticed a cat. Dogs, monkeys and langurs make up the fauna of the academy. Stray cows too. A stray cat is a strange sight and hence it merited a mention. It jumped in the cold air from the Happy Valley Hostel, sauntered across the 135 degree wide stairs and leaped on to the Unhappy Plateau Hostel roof. 

Cat on a cold tin roof.

The cat then proceeded to the Gandhi Smriti Library and pawed at books yellowed from the Hippie days, the pages brittle as the bones of the rainbow generation. The curious cat browsed through the books kept at the shelves at the end of the book racks, the books that the batch of OTs had gotten issued, read and returned. There were books on law, public administration, warfare, economics, poverty. The cat's curiosity was aroused, however, by the books at the English fiction section. Camus and Wodehouse were being read. Good for the batch, the voyeuristic cat thought, good for the batch for reading more than PowerPoint presentations of subjects, good of them for consuming more than mere slide handouts. But what is this? 'Chicken Soup for the Couple's Soul'?!

The thought of chicken soup made the cat hungry. The cat went to the A.N. Jha Plaza cafe for a cup of coffee with a dash of strawberry syrup and pretty lady OTs for company.

The cat walked in to the Sampoornanand auditorium and listened in on few lectures. Insincere sounding media men and earnest senior civil servants lectured on topics dear to their hearts. The OTs nodded in agreement or in sleep. Few OTs  spoke among themselves. Their thoughts were bubbles rising from vats of boiling tar, the thoughts were tar bubbles, ink black demons and they rose from the mouths of these OTs, floated up a little and then burst, staining the shirts and sticking to hair of fellow OTs, irritating them. The cat decided to shred the demons of distraction to shreds and scratch the presumptuous OTs, scratching away the thick blanket of arrogance with which they cloak themselves. These narcissistic fish think nothing of talking aloud in the class. They love to hear their voice and think everyone does too. 

'Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity,
For he's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.' (T.S. Eliot)

Our cat makes short work of these blow fishes, leaps across the valleys, ridge to ridge, peak to peak, in to the distant sun set, in to reluctant night, in to chalked out horizons.

The cat then woke up and found itself in the Happy Valley Ground, it appeared from a winter of discontent. It performed slick moves as an aerobics practitioner, all the while imagining the feline female forms in unitards, actresses escaped from Cats.

On FC midway point, movies and on absolute anonymity

Exams may come and exams may go, but I can not shake off the habit of watching movies and reading fiction and eating more than twice the daily calorie requirement during exam time. I watched an anime, 'Perfect Blue' (1997) by Satoshi Kan (who also directed 'Millennium Actress' (2001)) and the ever green big daddy of cool movies, 'Big Lebowski' (1998) (The Dude abides!) by the Coen brothers. 'Perfect Blue' is the source/inspiration movie for 'Black Swan' (2010). In fact, many think (including me, after I have watched the movie today) that 'Black Swan' draws heavily from 'Perfect Blue.' Among the many critiques and analyses available on the net, I found this to be the best that compares and contrasts both the movies.The caffeine driven binge movie watching then dovetailed with listening to the OSTs from both the movies and then reading reviews from various fora.

Do my batchmates realize that the 89th Foundation course is half done already? The 'mid term' exams cleave the course duration in to two neat halves. How do you feel now that the course is half empty (or half full, as you wish). The defining event of the Foundation Course, the Great Himalayan Trek is over. Other high points that the OTs may look forward to are the village visit and the India Day. I am guessing the cultural programmes due every fortnight will have been a matter of routine by the end of the course and not many may be enthused by the cross country run and the athletic meets. So what do the OTs look forward to, now? Many deadlines for submission of essays on various topics and reviews of books etc loom on the horizon, like the snow peaks of the Gangotri group, Chaukambha, Kedarnath groups visible from the campus. We move ever closer to scaling new heights.

There are two places in the campus from where one can get unhindered views of the snow clad Himalayas- the library reception area and the mess hand wash area. The Gandhi Smriti Library reception area has the added benefit of having an almost panoramic photograph of the Himalayas on the horizon, labelled with the peak names pasted on the wall above the window making for easy identification. The bronze plate with the peaks marked on it, on the Kalindi Guest House lawns is of no use. The peaks do not correspond to the direction in which they are present and trees in front of the viewing area spoil the views. Other areas in Mussoorie from which an unhindered view of the peaks can be had is the Lal Tibba. Even the Nandadevi peak is said to be visible from there. A visit to the Lal Tibba on a clear sky day is due. The Chaukambha peak group is the most impressive among all the peaks visible from the campus.

Half way through. I am guessing the academy will be a much duller place once the OTs from services other than the IAS leave after the Foundation Course comes to a close. We will think about it when the time comes. As of now, I am yet to know most of my batch mates and vice-versa. The situation can get a bit comical at times, like how in a class of just 7 OTs (a language class), a lady OT wanted to know if I were in the same class as her. After about 50 days in the academy and after as many as 10-15 language classes, I suppose it was a rather tragi-comic statement on many things. Namely, that mere physical presence does not get registered. That people are likely to mistake me for a wall paper. If it were the first time that this has happened, I would be wallowing in self-pity. Alas! This is the umpteenth time that people wake up one day to find that I have had been their group/team mate/coworker etc for quite some time. My colleagues from my stint at a private MNC would identify this incident with that of the 'kind stranger' moniker. I only hope this sort of presence whitewash does not happen with my wife to be. Imagine the awkwardness and the embarrassment if the future wifey wakes up one day and wonders aloud and in alarm as to what I am doing in her house. 

This level of anonymity has its advantages, too. I am seeing a bright future for myself in the world of espionage where the ability to pass off as a wall paper is a great talent to possess. A fly on the wall type is just the kind that a wannabe spy has to be proficient being.

I sincerely hope that by the end of the Foundation Course there may not be many fellow OTs who mistake me for a wall paper.

Mussoorie weather, Bollywood movie and Mills & Boon

There was a conditioning walk today for the trek tomorrow. I am not complaining. Who would not want to escape the hip gyrations, the awkward bending of limbs, the absurd twisting and exertions that pass off as PT? It may all be good for us, yes, but why would any right thinking individual want to wake up at unearthly hours in this weather, in this place?

The clouds envelope you when walking (climbing, huffing-puffing) to the Officers' Mess at Karmshila, like a beloved draping a coat over your shoulders, a wrapping around of delicate concern. There is a moderate rain in the morning before the PT starts, in the afternoon and in the evening. The sun shines bright and strong in between. In the remaining times the clouds come calling, like fluffy white cows airborne, out in herds for grazing. And graze they do the hill sides clad in million shades of green. With grace. There is always something happening in the skies in Mussoorie. If, by chance, the sun, the clouds, the rain etc forget their lines, a rainbow appears as if on cue and gladdens my heart from this end of the sky to that end. A better prompter of happiness one could not find.

The celestial drama does not end with the sun set, which is poetry in hi-definition in itself. The nightfall reveals the Milky Way in all its glory if the sky is cloudless. It was a full moon day few days ago. The moon hung over Mussoorie, a crown of indescribable beauty to the Queen of the Hills.

Such sights and sounds make one's stay pleasurable. In particular the sonorous call of a bird (have to ID that blessed bird- the call is a 5-6 note call) is most pleasing. A chance to walk in the hills before the sunrise is a rare privilege in deed.

The only disagreeable thing in it all is perhaps the pockets of methanaceous air that one has to pass through where the cattle congregate in groups for rest at night. The odour is quite incongruous with the sweet hill air.

One of the guest lectures was cancelled and a movie was screened in lieu. I had not watched 'Paan Singh Tomar' earlier. It was a good movie. The strongest point of the movie was when Paan Singh Tomar, who transformed from an international athlete to a 'baghi' in the Chambal valley, could not find closure to his situation despite cornering his enemy whose actions forced him to turn to violence in the first place. Violence begets more violence, a vicious circle in which the man confuses an effect for a cause.

The Gandhi Smriti Library springs surprise after surprise. There is an AV (audio/video) section with excellent and extensive collection of movies from different regions and industries and genres. And, who could have guessed, there are two shelves full of mint-new Mills & Boon titles. While one does not understand the need for Mills & Boon titles in an academy for administration, the fact that they seem unread gives one hope, still. Maybe the OTs of this and the previous batches of Foundation Course are not mushy, sentimentalist romantics after all.

On that note, ciao. A trek looms large tomorrow. Leeches, exhaustion, solitude and exhilaration await.

So help me god...

Thus the oath was rounded off with a hope that deity or deities of one's faith would help an administrator bear allegiance to the Constitution of India. A clause for conscientious objectors was inserted advising them to only solemnly affirm.

The Honourable Vice President of India, Shri M. Hamid Ansari, administered the oath to the Officer Trainees of the 89th Foundation Course. Prior to that, the inaugural ceremony started off with the national anthem, address by the Course Coordinator,  Director of the Academy, his Excellency the Governor of Uttarakhand and by the honourable Vice President. It may be of interest to note that the honourable VP is an alumnus of the institute having undergone the Foundation Course himself in 1961. One may find the gist of the dignitaries' speeches in news reports. Hence, I am skipping that part.

The course coordinator and the faculty introduced the course module to the OTs in rest of the sessions. A session on Official Language Policy was helpful in shattering myths and preconceived notions regarding the official language. The distinction between national language and official language (rashtra bhasha and raj bhasha) was clearly explained. The visiting faculty, Shmt. Veena Upadhyaya highlighted the nuances in various laws enacted to promote the official language. The question and answer session was informative as well, as the OTs brought in a contemporary perspective in understanding the language debate.

The inaugural ceremony and the orientation sessions were held in the Sampoornanand Auditorium located opposite to the reception area of the academy. The auditorium has an impressive octagonal roof and can seat, as per my estimate, close to 400 people at a time. The auditorium may double up as a theatre for one noticed the cluster of stage lamps overhead on the stage. I was reminded of my days as the lights boy for RK Hall (IIT KGP) dramatics team. It involved rotating a dial on the resistor from a cubby hole above the stage and out of view of the audience. I was a witness for many a fade in and a fade out and gimmicky light effects. The sound was crisp owing to the Bose sound system in place.

The OTs once free from the classes were seen clicking pictures of themselves in the ceremonial attire, around the campus. A point midway between Karmshila and Kalindi buildings (Karmshila houses the Officers' mess, Library, class rooms and Kalindi houses the VIP guest house) offers good view of the mountains all the way up to the Gangotri on a clear day, according to the guide to the peaks placed on a bronze plaque there.

The bandhgala is a tough dress to wear for long periods of time. I felt suffocated and hot all the while I was wearing it, for a good 8 hours. 

I got some time to explore the Gandhi Smriti Library. It is well stocked with journals, books, magazines, reference books, news papers, terminals for accessing the net etc. The feature that attracted my attention the most was the not insubstantial collection of fiction. The duration of Foundation Course, Phase 1 and 2 can be well spent with these books. 

The grind of the FC starts from tomorrow with the famed PT at the polo grounds at 5.55 am. The polo grounds are around 1.5 km from and below the Ganga hostel, reached by a steep path. The ascent will be a challenge. But then which ascent has not been a challenge? And it is not even the Everest, for crying out loud. It is a side of the Happy Valley. As a slogan goes, "No race, no rally, just enjoy the Happy Valley."

I clicked few photos of the campus. Next post, may be? However, I prefer my thousand words to my one blurry photo.

I do not see this daily blogging habit sustaining over a long time. May be this may turn in to a weekly update affair. Let us see how it goes.