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 ruined building and a boring movie

There are good places for a short walk of less than an hour around the academy. One such place is the ruins close to the Mussoorie Modern School. A road branches off to the left when one comes from the Library Point towards the academy. The ruins are visible from afar. One reaches them by a short walk on a gravel path, the stone chips under the shoes sound as if a giant has been munching potato wafers underfoot. The fried variety, not the boiled ones.

The ruined building with a fire place had an eerie feel to it. The roof had caved in and the walls too would follow. The premises were free of tell tale signs of tourist abuse-graffiti, declarations of love etched in to the plaster on the walls, bottles of beer or cheap whisky, ugly plastic wrappers of chips packets etc. 

The neat ruins were a contrasted juxtaposition on the nature of the ruined building. The decency and the cleanliness with which its walls still stood lent some solemnity to the ruins. Access to the building might have been regulated or outright banned for there was a rusted old sign prohibiting trespassers and glaring dire warnings. However, the paint was lost with large flakes of rust and the unkind admonition was ignored, with good results.

Immediately behind the ruins was a rocky outcrop which has the best views in Mussorie and of Mussoorie. Seated there on the ledge, with the sun rising ahead of you, a sapphire blue sky above you and yellowish green mist and grass and the trees beneath you, one can see the snow peaks and the massifs (Swargarohini, Bandarpunch, parts of the Gangotri range) to the north, Dehra Dun to the south east and the twin towns of Mussoorie and Landour to the north and the north east. A near panoramic view.

One dreads the day when one has to leave these hills and the pleasant winter mornings and go back to the grey, dreary, joyless cities, crowded, polluted, soulless artificialities dead to beauty.

An occasional foray to Dehra Dun reinforces the dread. Add to the toxic fumes and the intemperate city spirit a headache of a movie, the 3D version of Exodus: Kings and Gods and etc. Ridley Scott terrorized us with Prometheus with atrocious dialogues as this.

"Janek: You know, if you wanna get laid, you really don't have to pretend to be interested in the pyramid scan. I mean, you could just say, "Hey, I'm trying to get laid." Heh.
Meredith Vickers: I could. I could say that, right? But then it wouldn't make sense why I would fly myself half a billion miles from every man on Earth if I wanted to get laid, would it?
Janek: Hey, uh, Vickers. Hey, Vickers. I was wondering... Are you a robot?
Meredith Vickers: [scoffs] My room. Ten minutes."

He continues the streak with Exodus too. There seems to be a prudish turn to Scott which makes him approach the subject of sex with stilted dialogue.

This is but a minor niggle compared to the lugubrious length of two and half hours aided by a very thin, familiar biblical plot. In the end there is only so much a director can imagine and it shows. The only effort seems to be in trying to provide a pseudo scientific explanation to the 10 plagues visited on the Egyptians by the god of the Jews. This effort too gets abandoned midway. The movie therefore was a disappointment.

The last week of FC is hard upon us. And so are the deadlines for pulling a rabbit out of one's hat and organize the one act play. A last gasp of strenuous activity.

The academy wore a deserted look today on account of a host of people going home for the weekend, the usual Delhi suspects, people taking part in river rafting at Rishikesh, organized by the Adventure Club and by people visiting the Rajaji National park.

On few eateries

The Home Turf Cafe is a cozy, well furnished, economical place to have one's snacks or non alcoholic beverages. The snacks are all popular stuff, momos, maggi, egg bhurji, sandwiches etc. The menu at Home Turf is a welcome departure from the monotony of the Officers' Mess. The Home Turf staff is efficient, cordial and talented. The Home Turf is a favourite haunt for OTs who have had their fill of Pooja and Ganga dhabas. The decor is that of a hang out for sports lovers. Therefore there are few board games, posters of sports icons and sports equipment. There are also flash cards with quiz questions on sports. Quite thoughtful, I think. Quite did not understand what the bean bags are doing there, though.

Home Turf, interior.

Illuminated Home Turf

The way to a man's heart is through food...or eyes.

When one is feeling lethargic, it is recommended that one stuff oneself to the gills. What better place to accomplish this noble deed than at Momo's, the place for all edible things Tibetan?! Momo's has an attiribute that sets ia part from other eateries/restaurants in town, namely, consistent quality. The food is tasty and it is so every time one has had the opportunity of dining at Momo's. Consistent quality performance and promise of good quality is an essential element of branding. If they do not do too bad in the future, Momo's will be a strong brand to reckon.

A light fixture at Momo's

The afternoon was given off so that the serious OTs can prepare for the end semester exams. The non serious types went for lunch and since it was a balmy day, decided to take a stroll through Mussoorie town. Hence, Gun Hill was visited, for the first time after all these months. And what an utter, utter disappointment! The area is smothered by tacky commerce. What might have been a good view point-Gun Hill is the 2nd highest point in the local area, highest being Lal Tibba- has been spoilt by greed. We have a talent for killing the golden goose. Take Kempty falls, for example. The area surrounding the falls is infested with tin shed installations blocking the view of the falls. So it is with the Gun Hill. The area was boxed in by tin shacks, tourist traps. There were shacks with games of chance and skill, shacks with shiny clothes, snack shops and a 'binoculars point.' There are 3 binoculars and the slick businessmen characteristic of tourist places charge Rs.30 per person for peering closely at the snow peaks, the same peaks which are visible to the naked eye.

View from the Gun Hill, from the Binocular Point

A sample of shops at the Gun Hill

Temple Bell

The chronic disappointment of the Gun Hill was however offset by the pleasant walk on the Camel Back road. The quiet back roads were a good place to watch birds. There were many pretty bungalows as well.

Blue Whistling Thrush

The longish walk from Gun Hill via Camel Back road, Waverley road and to the academy was timed for the sun set. Sun rises and sun sets have been spectacular of late in these areas.

The after glow

Stairs near the AN Jha Plaza

14 days yet to be chopped.

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.

On a trek to Lal Tibba and blue berry cheese cake.

Here is the trek description in a more readable form.

• Trek from the academy to Lal Tibba.
• Started at 7.30 am.
• Downhill walk till Bhilaru pump house.
• Salt sprinkling ceremony to ward off leeches and to maintain pH levels, slaughtered few mountain goats to propitiate trekking gods (ok, this part is made up, the sacrifice part).
• Some more downhill walk on algae covered paths (slippery as hell).
• Bicchu buti kisses in between (painful, painful, irritating initially, but one forgets after a while as the aches in legs from climbing overtakes the bicchu buti sting). Nobody quite grasped the nettle!

  

  Beware of bicchu buti.

  
  

• 

  Some mushrooms enroute.

• Dead wood blocks the narrow path; OTs slide on their bottoms in order not to roll down 80 ft before the fall is broken by trees. Fat bottomed OTs you make the rugged world go round!
• Crossed leech infested area near a pool of stagnant water and a ribbon of a stream that has the deceptive roar of a raging torrent, somehow. Yours truly mistook the leeches for earthworms, steps in to the pool, soggy shoes and socks torment for the rest of the trek.
• Climb begins in earnest. Narrow, gravelly path. Precipitous drop one one side and stinging nettles on the other.
• Crawl on all fours at a place. Palms still sweat when one thinks of that part. Happy because of the paunch which lowered the centre of gravity.
• Climb past hamlets, barking dogs, flatulent cows.
• Climb past fruit bearing trees (apple, apricot), 'mansoor' shrubs
• Climb ends at Lal Tibba view point. Two sleepy, generic cafes. A binoculars on a roof top. Cloudy so could not see any of the upper Himalayas. Do ends justify the means? Not for Lal Tibba trek I say!
• Pleasant walk downhill and some more climb up to ITM lawns for lunch.

• 

  A bee going about its business.

• Kellogg Memorial and St.Pauls churches, old and redolent of 19th century Raj era.
• Char dukaan disappointed few motor vehicle borne pretty young things. Heard the pancakes are worth making the trek to Landour. Should check out the said pancakes.

  

  Signboards at a cafe.

• Kulri bazaar home to quaint shops. Antiques store was a shortcut to an indeterminate past, in to lives of others, memorabilia mundane and mysterious. Reminded me of the saying that love is greater than truth. And commerce in nostalgia did not seem an example of exploitative capitalism.
• Serendipitous discovery of Clock Tower Cafe by friends. Blueberry cheesecake was out of this world. The ambience made it especially noteworthy.

  

  The interiors of Clock Tower Cafe.

  
  

  

  The coffee was good.

So that in nutshell is an account of the trek. Was it tough? You bet it was. Was it memorable? Every bit yes, especially the scary bits. Was it worth all the sweat, salt, fat etc? I suppose so.

A larger collection of photographs of the trek can be found here.

Below is the trek account in its original form.

Lal Tibba earned an enemy in me today. The trek was 18 km long. The unsuspecting batch started a slow walk downhill till we reached a point where we sprinkled liberal amounts of salt on our shoes (a pointless exercise, for dry salt does not stick to dry shoe surfaces), socks and inside the shoes. This pickling of ourselves in salt was to deter potential dependents in the form of leeches. Once sufficiently salted, the batch made its way through a narrow path surrounded by an abundance of bicchu buti. A handwritten caution note pinned to a tree does not prepare one to the full scale horror of bicchu buti rubbing against one's shins and arms, even through a layer of cloth. The resultant sting was bitter, intense for the initial 2-3 minutes and the itch fades away in to the background remaining a persistent irritant for a time. There was a spot in the descent where a fallen tree caused few anxious moments as the OTs had to go around the gnarled roots on a narrow path and descend some 12 ft in an almost vertical drop, land on another narrow strip of loose dirt path of 1 ft width failing which the OT would take a tumble down an abrupt drop of around 80 ft. It was the first instance when one feels a bit of trepidation. One also imagines Final Destination 1 to 5. Then there was another point in the climb where the loose gravel and a slope of close to 60 degrees meant one had to cling to tufts of grass or shrubs and climb on all fours. It was not a dignified sight for the civil servants to crawl on the sides of the hills, but between the indignity of crawling and the reasonable certainty of a headlong plunge to the very bottom of the valley some 1500 ft below, rational human beings choose crawling.

There was this funny thing of feeling giddy the moment one raises their head to admire the vista of trees of the deepest tree-green covering folds of earth, like vertical love handles, the tremendous middle Himalayan Mussoorie range. So, to avoid falling off the mountain side, one tends to keep his head down, eyes peeled to the path, belabored breath like a sputtering engine. Keep one's head down and climb and climb and climb. Through rocky paths strewn with slate slabs, dried cow dung, an accompanying dog and a racket of dog barks. Climb till you wonder if you are ascending to heaven. Climb some more till your calf muscles turn in to mountain goat muscle. Stringy and tough.

After all the climbing one reaches Lal Tibba. The point we landed up at after the rather difficult trek was a small piece of tarred road and couple of cafes. Since it was overcast there was no chance of seeing the snow-clad Himalayas and the prominent peaks. The culmination of the trek was underwhelming to say the least. Post lunch one was free to move to the academy as per one's preference and I opted to walk down to Landour, along with few friends. Landour was pretty as a post card. Of special mention was the Clock Tower Cafe, a delightful cafe with superb views and a blue berry cheese cake to die for.