kaya dreams - the great Indian motorcycle expedition

Day 43

2005-04-16T00:56:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 396
Total distance 8141 km

Awoke with the suns first rays washing over the horizon, eager to get to Etawah and the Chambal National Park., home to the rare Gangetic dolphin and my favourite animal, the wolf. I have waited with bated breath for my first encounter with these free spirits and Ill have to wait some more because I couldnt find the park let alone the wolves. There can be a number of reasons for this d none are amusing. (a) it never existed (b) its the best kept government secret (c) in fact its so secretive they themselves have forgotten where it is (d) it is of such great importance to national security if they show you theyll have to kill you (e) the local populace is so jealous of it they dont want anyone to see it. Whatever the reason no one in Etawah or the vicinity has a clue about its existence or they just werent in a mood to be helpful. The only information they had to give was that three is a forest but the only wild animal you are likely to spot is the dacoit and they arent all that interesting. Dejected and tired but with nowhere to go we decided to ride all the way to Agra. The ride is quite good in terms of the road but the dust and the heat are both killers. We were determined to salvage the day by catching sunset over the Taj and rode nonstop till we reached Agra and the tourist rest house. Lonely planet is a great book but every hotel that gets mentioned in it develops a chip on its shoulder and a higher tariff card. A quick shower later we were racing to the banks of the river Yamuna on the north side of the Taj. With the sun setting very fast I rode like a man possessed and cannot recollect the last time I was so excited about anything. As we approached the taj, we must have still been a good distance when both of us gasped simultaneously as we caught sight of a large marble dome - our first sight of the Taj. A moment later we both let out a scream of absolute awe and joy as we caught sight of an even larger dome that put the first one to shame - it was the real Taj Mahal. Motor vehicles are not permitted within 5km of the monument but bikes are always an exception so we rode past the east gate and parked on the banks of the river. With the sun sinking along the river length and the Agra fort in the background with the Taj looming over us we had an eyeful of the most spectacular vision man has ever imagined and natures grandeur enhancing it. The streets of Agra are very similar and as much a maze as that of Varanasi though not nearly as crowded or fascinating. We found ourselves riding in circles for a while before we could find our guesthouse for a well-deserved sleep. I am still breathless and in awe of her splendor as I sit down to pen my thoughts.

Day 42

2005-04-15T00:50:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 81
Total distance 7745 km

We slept in late after a long time and needed the extra sleep. It was close to noon by the time we reached Lucknows most famous edifice the Bada Imambara and the sun was merciless. The complex, built by the Nawabs four large and very beautiful buildings each unique from the other in style and purpose, all enclosed within a large high compound with enormous and magnificent triple arches inlaid with work. On stepping in through the archway you are greeted by a second set of archways, equally splendid with steps rising up to them. The main compound lies beyond the second archway and immediately to the right is a huge mosque with large domes and towering minarets. It was prayer time and the mosque was teeming with believers. There is a colonnade leading from the mosque to the giant Imambara or meeting hall, which has ornate walls and domes. The high roofed hall is a balcony on all four sides with intricate trelliswork from which the women can watch the proceedings. The balcony and hall have some amazing acoustics. Standing at one end of this long hall you can hear the guide tear a piece of paper or light a match at the other end. If only our modern day theaters had such good sound - so much for dolby digital. The piece-de-resistance is the Bhul-Bhulaya a labyrinth that confounds and boggles the mind with its deceptive simplicity and sinister motive. It is a maze of identical hallways and doorways that lead you on and on till you are hopelessly lost or running in circles. There is only one true path, which acts as an escape route for the ruler in times of trouble. Last and equally fascinating is the Bauli, a seven story building built not upward but downward with a flight of stairs leading to the centrally located well. The well is supposedly bottomless and perennially fed by the river Gomti. The structure consists of levels of archways and narrow stairwells leading from one level to the other. During the rains some of the levels get submerged. The entire complex is steeped in tales that are too fantastic to believe but make for some amusing listening like the story that each day the people would build it and the Nawab would have it broken down by night so that there would be work for people on the following day. Just outside the complex is another large ornate building now the office of the archeological survey and leading to these two buildings, looming over the road is the Rumi Darwaza. Virtually a symbol of the city it towers 60 feet and overlooks the other great monuments like a sentinel. Also around the same area are the Chota Imambara and the Shah Najaf mosque. With its exquisite chandeliers, gilt-edged mirrors, colorful stucco on the interior and golden dome with exquisite calligraphy it is an ode to grandeur. From here we moved on to the Residency, which is a visual commentary on one of the most poignant incidents of our struggle for freedom. There is more to be felt and perceived here than actually seen with most of the complex in complete ruin, a few buildings proudly standing, bearing the scars and ravages of war. The Residency was the seat of British life and it was here that European men, women and children awaited their sad fate during the revolt of 1857. There are a number of dedications to the men who died here including a tomb for Sir Lawrence. Unfortunately, today it is used by the local populace for blatant sexual activity, which disgusts me. The sun went down on these relics of our history leaving me with shadows from the past. Met Mamba again and went to get a taste of lucknows renowned Tunde Kebab.

Day 41

2005-04-14T00:44:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 346
Total distance 7664 km

We took in another beautiful sunrise and an excellent breakfast before leaving for Sarnath about 10km away. Sarnath is a town of great importance to the Buddhist. It is where Buddha gave his first sermon after attaining enlightenment and is also the site of the first Buddhist sanga. Like most old Buddhist sites the complex is a gigantic graveyard of bricks and one can only imagine the true grandeur of the entire area with its great stupa - the top is in ruins but the lower circle is mostly intact though all the statues and carvings are missing. Next to the complex is a more recently built Buddhist temple, simple and yet interesting. The surrounding area houses a Bodhi tree, which is surrounded by statues. There are also life size statues of Buddha giving a sermon to s disciples. On the whole though there isnt too much to appreciate or impress about Sarnath. Dwain got a great deal on a real trippy mandala the price of which started at 1800 and came down to 500.
We returned to Varanasi and immediately left for Lucknow a good 300 km away. Ended up driving like a mad man because we wanted to reach there before nightfall and there was nothing eye catching except for all the dust. After a good 6 ours of riding and way past sunset we reached Lucknow and checked into a lodge way out of town. We were dog gone tired but we had to savor the famous cuisine of the Nawabs of Awadh so we met up with Mamba a good friend of mine for a classic meal. Im going to bed stuffed like a pig.

Day 40

2005-04-13T00:40:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: zero
Total distance 7318 km

One of the most important and holy ritual at Varanasi is the dip in the sacred river as you catch the first rays of the sun and there was no way I was missing sunrise. By dawn we were down by the river and on our boat for a ride along the length of the river taking in the different Ghats and the devotees performing their sacraments. It was a beautiful morning and our boatman and guide, Hero, gently rowed us along her waters. You can hear the temple bells ring and the occasional chants otherwise all is quiet as you observe people make their offerings and wash away their sins in the river. You go along each Ghat - a flight of stairs leading up to the river with a temple at the top of the steps, built in different periods by different kings for different Gods. When it rains the steps river rises immensely and the entire steps are submerged. There are even shrines of different religions right besides each other in complete harmony, each respecting the others beliefs. There are more than 300 temples on the banks besides the numerous palaces. The one that fascinated me the most was at the main Ghat. It is closest to the river and tilts at a precarious angle. The palaces are mostly abandoned or in state of disarray with a few of them even converted to guesthouses. We drifted down the river and under the bridge up to the last Ghat - a good 3-hour ride - and decided to walk back the entire way through the delightful maze that is the streets of Varanasi. This end is not where the tourists or the pilgrims come and we got a glimpse of the real Varanasi from its vegetable market, cattle sheds and sweet shops to the hardware stores. The streets are indescribably fascinating - narrow, intertwined, mysterious, dirty and yet beautiful. I have no idea why but I have fallen completely in love with this side of the town. A very amusing thing about the place are the children who all smile at you and say Hello in complete foreign accents. It is like their own secret rite and they love posing for photographs. It was a while before I realized we were walking through the streets, lost and wandering with absolutely no sense of directions as they intertwine among each other leaving you disoriented. Every time you think youve figured it out or find something that looks familiar you are proven completely mistaken and the walk back took more than 3 hours but there wasnt a dull moment through out. You know you have entered the tourist zone when the hawkers start approaching you. The restaurants here serve you every possible cuisine-Korean, Japanese, Thai and European catering to every taste. You spend a lot of the walk side stepping dung, insane cyclists and runaway cattle. There are cows all over the place walking peacefully as if they own the road - which in some ways they actually do - taking up most of the road and laying minefields as they pass by. We spent most of the afternoon watching the river and trying to get an essence of her as the sun slowly bade goodbye. We were back strolling the streets before too long and heading for the main Ghat to watch the daily Grand ceremony conducted to worship the great Ganga. The elaborate, mesmerizing and mystical lasts a good hour and makes great viewing. This was followed by a an amazing dinner at Lalithas place, a restaurant with great service, great food and the most trippy ambience with a roof top restaurant. The streets can seem quite scary at night and as we walked back they were completely deserted and eerie with the buildings seeming to close in on you, but it only your imagination running wild.
I have always wondered why so many tourists visit Varanasi and now I have my answer. I have to leave tomorrow and it fills me with great sorrow. I could quite happily stay on here for a long, long time.

Day 39

2005-04-12T01:11:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 295 km
Total distance 7318 km

Varanasi is the mystical land of strange customs and stranger people, magic, strong beliefs and full of surprises. The first surprise of the day though was the road. Bihar actually produced a stretch of road that didnt make me wince. It was far from perfect but at least the majority of the distance was covered on smooth roads. The dust and dirt though were getting worse and worse still. You can most probably create a miniature beach or desert landscape with the dust we scraped off ourselves. In some places the dust blowing across the road leaves you blind. In spite of all this we made Varanasi in good time and great spirits. Just as we approached the bridge I caught my first sight of the holy Ganges and it is a moment that will stay with me forever, not because of what it looks like but because of what it symbolizes to a billion Indians. I did not know what to except from Varanasi, which is a good thing because it is near impossible to picture or understand Varanasi even after being there. To start with it must be the only town in the world located on a river but developed only one bank. While one side is over populated and congested the other is barren and unsettled with a few groves of trees just so that the faithful can see the sun rise over the horizon. Once across the bridge the traffic gets absolutely chaotic, with the roads teeming with people and rickshaws. It is really tough getting Kaya through the narrow lanes but we finally reached Godilia and turned towards the river.
My enthusiasm was steaming out of me in anger by then but suddenly the magic of Varanasi had me captive. The paths are extremely narrow and lined with old buildings, which are both shops and apartments. The roads only wide enough for a single bike and that too leaves the pedestrians pressed against the wall. In a lot of places the roads actually pass under buildings. The entire place is a maze and it is quite easy to find yourself clueless as to where you are headed. I cannot describe what it looks like let alone feels like but it is all extremely fascinating and somehow exciting, in spite of all the filth around you. It is like no other Indian town I have ever visited. We checked into Vishnu guesthouse right on the banks of the river on Pandey Ghat. It was packed with foreign backpackers and has a café, a room with a balcony and a cooler, all over looking the river for just Rs.200. I hadnt shaved in a month and was looking quite rough, so both of us decided to pretty up a bit. As I was walking back to the guesthouse I was accosted by many young men all wanting to know what my preferred choice of drug was. Next thing I know I am walking through small lanes and find myself at a music store with its curtains drawn. A minute later we were inside and I realized it was an opium den with a couple of foreigners taking a hit. The music is just a front. We chilled there for a while checking out the scene.
After getting cleaned up we went out to experience the magic of Varanasi and was it ever magical. We went down to the river and walked along her banks taking in the different sights and sounds. The entire place is unique with its old palaces, temples and buildings lining one bank while the sun sets along her length. You can spend days walking along her banks and still find yourself entrapped by the rituals and the people. The Ganges basin is said to be the most polluted river in the world, declared septic and yet thousands of people come here to purify themselves by taking a holy dip. Here you can see the power of faith at its strongest. Varanasi is the abode of lord Shiva and is therefore a home for some of the most eccentric and unusual sadhus you will ever get to see. All of them in their ascetic clothes with their trishul, urn, bowl and glowing chillam, some of them completely covered in ash, some naked, with weird hairdos and even weirder forms of penance. The sadhus are allowed to smoke ganja as it is part of their ritual and is associated with the worship of Shiva. You can actually pick up weed at the government shop. We strolled down to the cremation Ghat. This is where scores of Indian come every day to burn there loved ones and pray for their salvation. We sat down and watched the entire ritual for a long time, which is supposed to be good for the karma. We were sitting their watching the eternal flame when this guy comes up to us and gives us a very interesting perspective about the ritual. There is no odor from the burning flesh because lord Shiva himself passed down the flame, which is stored within the temple. The ashes and what is left unburned - the chest in the case of man and the buttocks for women are thrown into the river. There are six types of people who are not cremated but are tied to a stone and drop into the river- cobra victims, holy man, children, lepers, smallpox victim and pregnant women. There are a million different stories each more interesting then the other but these are what you have to go and discovered for yourself. You meet different people and immerse yourself in their yarns about Varanasi. We burnt floating candles and released them into the river adding to the hundreds of shimmering lights already floating around giving the water a very beautiful and ethereal look. There are a large number of pilgrims who come here but the people who really spent time trying the figure the place out are the tourists. Some of them have been here for months and still find themselves lost, some even more so as time goes by. The pilgrim comes here, prays and leaves without a clue as to why he is doing all this. It is very strange place even for an Indian. The main problem in Varanasi if you ignore the filth are people trying to sell you everything from boat rides to drugs, chai, candles, guides postcards and memorabilia. In a way it is as much a part of the experience as everything else but it can get quite troublesome with guys following us and one particular dude even threatening to slit our throats. We had to have a quick dinner and return to the guesthouse because of a 10 pm curfew as the streets are supposed to be unsafe after dark with tourists disappearing every couple of months.
Another amazing fact about Varanasi - it is a place for all faiths all you need to be is a believer. You find people from all faiths coming here to perform last rites.

Day 38

2005-04-11T00:57:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 96 km
Total distance 7023 km

I have only now come to appreciate the magic of rising early. Under the gaze of a fresh new sun, with its light spreading out like a growing halo everything appears so calm and lovely. We set out for Bodh Gaya very early and were there before the sun could even fully make his presence felt. It is a small town that exists mainly on pilgrims and tourists. The site where Buddha attained Nirvana, it is revered by Buddhists and is one of their holiest places. There is a large Maha Bodhi Temple in a huge complex with numerous stupas, all brilliantly carved though many are broken. The temple houses a giant gold Buddha but the exteriors are plain with most of the carvings missing. The centerpiece though is the Bodhi Tree under which he attained enlightenment and under it is the sandstone throne dedicated by the king. The place exudes peace and we spent a good deal of time setting under it. A lot of Asian Buddhists come here with their children to conduct holy rites. While we were there a large group of Thai kids were being inducted as monks and we watched the ceremony with growing fascination. We also came across what Dwain calls Tourist monks, carrying their cell phones and the latest cameras. The complex also houses a large water tank with a Buddha statue in the center and is filled with giant catfish for some strange reason. What I really loved about Bodh Gaya are the Buddhist monasteries from across the globe. Every country with a Buddhist population has set up a monastery in their own style and traditions. It is not only a brilliant exhibition of various architectural styles but also of their religious practices. The temple from Taiwan and China were very simplistic and stark with the former housing a laughing Buddha, while the Sri Lankan and Cambodian monasteries were still under construction. The Tibetan and Sechan monasteries were colorful and exciting like most of the monasteries I have visited in Sikkim and Darjeeling. The walls were resplendent in their artwork and also housed one of the largest prayer wheels I have seen. The Thai monastery on the other hand looks very cool and funky with its multiple level sloped tile roofs licking out like flames reaching into the sky and the doors are inlaid with intricate bodhisattvas. The interiors are covered with some of the most trippy paintings yet seen. The two best temples though are the Bhutanese and Japanese; each poles apart from the other. While one is breath taking in its work the other is an ode to elegant simplicity. I love the Japanese buildings with their sweeping roofs, large sliding doors and tranquil interiors. Their aesthetic sense - the carpet, lighting and aroma make it wonderful. The Bhutanese monastery is the most spectacular from the exterior and interior. It has a three level-stepped pagoda with very brightly painted relief work where the paintings look life like and appear to be leaping out of the wall. All the temples are similar in that they have paintings that describe important events from the Buddhas life. I cant decide for sure which is the best but I definitely have a soft spot for the Bhutanese monastery because we spent the night there. Bodh Gaya offers of variety of cuisine ranging from Japanese to Korean in authentic style to cater to a large proportion of tourists coming from there.
As we leave Bihar I am more then surprised and very impressed by their reaction and interest in our expeditions. But as a reminder of the realities of Bihar, Gaya about two km from where we were was sacked by dacoits last night. A large group of dacoits cordoned off an entire part of the town and robbed about 40 houses. The entire operation took them a few hours during which they beat up a couple of few people and even shot off their guns but the police did not arrive till after they had left. Im glad we were put up at a monastery, as it is the last place anybody would try to rob.

If you want to visit Bihar please do it without a second thought. Just dont do it by road.
Today was spent at the holiest of Buddhist sites and tomorrow we go to the holiest of the holy for Hindus - Varanasi.

Day 37

2005-04-10T00:48:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 165 km
Total distance 6927 km

After the previous days trial by fire Dwain Developed a very serve back cramp and was in a lot of pain. I thought we would not be able to go on that day but he put on a brave face and off we went to Rajgir where the Bihar Tourism had arranged accommodation for us. The 105 km took us a good 3 and a 1/2 hours but compared to what we had been through yesterday the road was worth kissing, but someone else decided to show his love for the road. Riding through the jungle that is Patna traffic we had our first accident. On a narrow strip of road - not that there are any wide strips - one over optimistic dude decides to overtake a bus and comes straight at us. With some acrobatic steering he managed to miss my handle by a whisker but couldnt beat the side bags and a second later he was embracing the road and kissing it - not very lovingly I must say. I stopped the bike a few feet ahead, my heart in my mouth imagining myself beaten to a pulp. People rushed to him and a moment later he was up. Seeing that he was all right and with nobody paying any attention to us we decided to scoot from the scene of the crime. Dwain must have been ruing his decision of riding with me, Im sure this is more excitement than he bargained for. The rest of the journey was uneventful but the roads have sudden bumps and a lot of small settlement so the going was slow. For the second day in a row Bihar Tourism has provided us with excellent rooms for free.
Rajgir is a small town nestled amidst a range of hills- it even boasts of a ropeway - Buddist and Jain Temples and the major traffic consists of tongas. We rode around the town and then headed for the famous Nalanda University dating back to the forth century AD. One of the oldest and most celebrated seats of learning with an immense library, it housed 10,000 monks and was a center for astronomy, medicine, astrology, mathematics, sciences and philosophy, which flourished till sacked by the Persian invaders. It was lost to man, mysteriously disappearing with only tales of its greatness mentioned by famous travelers keeping its memory alive till discovered and excavated in early 1900. The ruins are extensive with only a portion as yet uncovered let alone discovered. You can only stand there, wondering and picture in your mind how the place was when infused with life. The greatness and grandeur of this bygone era is but a wisp of memory that all our imagination fails to bring to life. All that remains are brick walls and the complex is like a maze with rows of rooms built a top each other. There are some structures that are built on the ruins of others and you can see distinct styles of architecture revealing the different times of construction. None of the stone structures or statues remains either destroyed, buried or stolen with the few remaining ones now in museums. The centerpiece of Nalanda was and is the famous stupa which is now nothing more than a giant heap of bricks with three flights of stairs leading up. The sight of it makes you curse mans desire for war and his abuse of religion. It is only when you look at the computer generated image of what the stupa may have looked like that you perceive the true scale and breathtaking splendor of the site and wonder how anybody could destroy something of such amazing beauty. We left the site and visited a Thai monastery in the vicinity. We stopped to enjoy a beautiful sunset while a man lovingly washed his buffalos in the waters reflecting the orange and pink hues of the sky, in front of us with toddy tappers scaling their palm trees in the background. On reaching Rajgir I worked up the courage, shutting off my mind for a while to head into the main market of Rajgir and see what the people of Bihar are really like. I was a little apprehensive as I got down at the sweet shop to savor the tastes. Kaya was in the limelight and had attracted a huge gathering, adding to which was Dwain a gora. But before I could begin to worry, their tentative smiles and genuine inquisitiveness left me relaxed and chatting away. The owners were really nice and treated us to some of their specialties. We then encountered a similar situation at the fruit shop where we went to buy some mangos with children gathering around us wearing shy smiles. Thats when you realize that a few bad apples have caused the entire basket to be declared rotten. Till now Bihar has only been a disappointment in terms of the road. The people have been great - curious, friendly and kind- tomorrow heading into Bodh Gaya I only hope nothing changes but the road.

Day 36

2005-04-09T00:46:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 385 km
Total distance 6762 km

I started the day fearful of the people and ended it in dreadful fear of the road. I take everything back about all the bad roads I have been on. They are gentle and kind in comparison to what we have just experienced. The ride to Guwahati was a walk in the park when weighed against the road to Patna. If the Chinese had happened to come across this they would have adopted it as a form of cruel and inhuman torture. This hellhole is so bad even the Devil would pack his bags and refuse to reside. It should be declared as a human rights violation. The roads are strewn with broken down lorries and have deteriorated so badly that at some places they have caved in. There was no time to worry about getting robbed or killed because you are too worried about becoming road kill. You cant even appreciate the scenery even if there was something to appreciate because if you take your eyes off the road for more than a second you are most likely to end up as part of the scenery. The holes are so bad they are capable of devouring you. The pain was so bad I was beginning to cry in frustration and just wanted to park Kaya and start walking. My arms were beginning to ache like mad and Dwain who has a bad back hurt it real badly and was in immense pain and I was feeling real bad for him. At the end of a miserable highway ride we ended up doing an equally miserable ride through the overcrowded and insane streets of the city to get to Kautilya Vihar the Bihar tourism guest house where surprisingly they had organized the finest rooms for us for free. It was the one bright spot in an otherwise very dark and dreary day. I just hope Ill be able to work up the courage to ride again tomorrow and I hope Dwain is going to be all right.
Piece of advice - dont come here. You just might give up riding all together.

Day 35

2005-04-08T00:39:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 266 km
Total distance 6377 km

We rode to Siliguri in about 3 hours and stopped for lunch at a dhaba we had been to on our onward journey. I have no idea what possessed T.T. but suddenly he felt compelled to play a game of golf of all things and that too at a beaten down putting ground beside the dhaba - and this from someone who has never played the game before. He was heading back for Hyderabad today and I had to get in touch with Dwain and see if he was actually joining me. I must confess I didnt really expect him to turn up thinking he may have changed his mind, which would mean I have to go into Bihar alone. But as things turned out I got in touch with him easily and met up at the railway station. After bidding farewell to T.T. we headed for Kishanganj, Bihar hoping to make it there before nightfall. I had planned to check into a hotel in Kishanganj but then a couple of people warned me that it was not a safe place to go to. Just when I was confused and worried as to our plan of action, super-mom came to the rescue. My mom had arranged stay for us- with the police of all the people, beat that. So a 2-hour ride and straight to the police station we went. They didnt have space in their quarters so we parked Kaya in the station and checked into a lodge with full police escort and to top it off the rent was on the house.

Farewell to a Friend

I have never thanked T.T for supporting me as he has done over the last month and even before the start of this venture and dude Id like to let you know how much I appreciate it. We have our differences and its never easy to spend too much time with around the same person especially when both of your way of thinking is poles apart. We have had our differences but we have had even greater times. I know Im a difficult person at times but then again he is the most infuriating person at times. I like to keep things moving he likes to go at an absolutely leisurely and bordering on snails pace. Every morning I have to get ready and wait while he lingers slowly making each activity into a drawn out ceremony. But none of it really matters because I could not have got so far without him and when both of are in a good spirits we gel totally. It would have been a lot more difficult for me to have started from day one without company and he eased things for me on so many occasions. Most importantly we ride well together and he takes better care of Kaya than I do. I ride with passion and there are many times when I believe that Kaya is like me and can push herself that little extra in spite of the pain and the difficulties but T.T on the other hand insists on getting her tuned every time he thinks something is wrong. Its not just the bike that he took care off but in a way he took care of me also. I tend to keep pushing on but he saw to it that we ate three proper meals a day and were always carrying sufficient water and other replenishments. What I really want to say is Thank You - I couldnt have done it without you. Am eagerly waiting for you to return and Im sure that Kaya is too.

Day 34

2005-04-07T00:37:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 372 km
Total distance 6111 km

It was the ULFA rising day and you could feel the tension in the air and the streets lined with cops as we drove out of Guwahati. This was a ride I was actually beginning to dread after the initiation we had already gone through. I was thinking of different strategies to avoid that same road because for one backtracking is boring and having already seen what is in store for us there is no chance of at least living in denial that the road will get better after a while. There was a brief moment of joy when I thought we had found a different route but a few painful bumps and a couple of suspiciously familiar looking potholes later I realized we were back on the some god forsaken path. The weather though was perfect. The sun was powerless to penetrate the overcast skies and the very gentle drizzle further cooled things down. The previous nights rain had left the entire area looking lush with lots of water pools around. None of this though could make the road any easier to travel on. A grueling and teeth rattling journey ended with as calling it an early night at Cooch Bihar.

Day 33

2005-04-06T00:32:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 202 km
Total distance 5739 km

5am and the faint light of dawn slowly repelled the darkness as we drove into the park for our elephant ride. The elephant ride though only an hour long takes you amidst the grass and so close to the animals you can hear them breathe. The elephants are mainly females with a couple of young calves. There was one tusker and we decided to ride on him. Not a very smart move, as we were soon to discover. The female of the species is much more gentle a ride. The journey rocks literally as you sway side to side and it is very difficult to get a good shot. Even when stationary the animal is not entirely still as you gently rise and fall with its heaving breaths. You can see the animals look up, ready to bolt as we come lumbering towards them but by instinct they are aware that the elephant is not a natural enemy so though wary they do not flee. You get close enough to see wild freedom burning in there eyes. It is uncontrollably exciting as you slowly come nearer and nearer the animals, watching them do their thing. Unfortunately we never spotted any elephants - I was very keen on seeing how they would react to a different and tame herd. Had another very interesting conversation with Mr. Dasgupta (came to know that he even features in Lonely Planet) over breakfast along with T.T., Dwain and Oscar, a filmmaker from London. We sat around talking for a good deal of time and I hope I was able to guide Oscar on his tour of Sikkim. Oscar is another dude who has traveled a bit and he had some cool stories about South Africa. Most important thing about the entire conversation was that Dwain also wants to see Bihar and Uttar Pradesh and since I am doing this leg alone we have decided to team up which I must say was quite an opportune occurrence. It will be nice to have company in Bihar, as I must confess I am apprehensive about the place. Saying goodbye to our new found friends we started off on what would be a very, very long and boring backtrack all the way to Kishanganj: The journey from Kanzanga to Gangtok is a vision in green and not coming across too many police we made it back to the guest house in relative ease. We were sorely tempted to visit Shillong, which is only a further 60 km from where we are staying but the prevailing political situation convinced us against it.

Day 32

2005-04-05T00:27:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 226 km
Total distance 5537 km

Woke up eager to get to Kaziranga but with trepidation about the road ahead after what we had just driven on. We were traveling a good 1500 km only to visit Kaziranga and I was in fear of being sorely disappointed. Surprise, surprise, the road was actually an absolute beauty and the distance of 200 km can be covered in four hours with ease. The scenery is nothing spectacular with lots of paddy fields and small groves of trees - a glimpse of every hue and shade of green. With no luggage to worry about we were flying to our destination. The only traffic was a steady stream of army convoys, heavily armed with mounted machine guns seemingly heading out to war. As we approached Kaziranga the roads have signs about watching out for animals and keeping an eye on the left hand side to spot them in the wild. All we were able to spot for a while were cows and were beginning to joke about it when I had to bring Kaya to a screeching halt. Right there, on the left bank was a large one horned Rhino and just that one sight made every minute of the 800 km we had so far covered worth it. We stopped there for a long time as the big fellow kept on posing for us, showing us every profile. He was a big guy lazily chewing on the grass taking the finest pick followed by a cool bath in the pools of water. We were really excited and back on the bike but we had barely gone a couple of km and there were four more of them blissfully grazing away. We reached the tourist complex and after a quick lunch got onto the jeep safaris that begin at 2.00 pm. The entry is 200Rs plus camera charges and 200Rs for a guide per jeep. The jeep costs an additional 500Rs. but it works out cheap if you can get people to share it with you. We got very lucky and met two very cool people. First we met Dwain, a Canadian who was booked on a different ride, but more importantly we met a Mr. Dasgupta who accompanied us and he made the entire experience more worthwhile. He is an old gentleman who loves wildlife and has been visiting Kaziranga for the last 20 years and has been to parks all over India and Asia. The best thing about it was he was an ornithologist and his enthusiasm was infectious. The entire buzz of watching birds with somebody who can tell you what you are looking at is great. You are not allowed to take private bikes and cars inside but jeeps and suvs with 4-wheel drive are permitted. The ride in the gypsy was very rough and extremely bumpy but our driver turned out to be a very knowledgeable guy with a few tricks up his sleeve. We spotted a lot of deer and rhino to start with but they were either too far or amongst the tall elephant grass that makes up most of the area with small groves, streams, marshes and intermittent pools. We then came a massive rhino very close by and he wasnt shy at all - thats when our driver revealed one of his secrets. He knew the call of the rhino and sure enough the minute he made the honking sound the rhino was all attention. Wonders never cease, a few minutes later he was calling out to wild elephants - though they dont spare you much more than a glance, what with more important things to do like a dunk in the pool and a cool trumpet shower. The highlight though came right at the end when we came up close and personal with a mother rhino and her young calf walking straight into our path. It is a rare moment because they are very protective about their young ones. You have to leave the park before sunset and we were left watching as the orange sun slowly bid farewell to the serene forest. We met up with Dwain and took a walk down a small path to do a bit of exploring. He is a biologist and does projects that take him to some of the wildest places - Alaska, Thailand, Africa - and hes all of 26 years old. Hes just completed a bike ride across Thailand and Cambodia so we really got talking and swapping travel stories. Before we knew it darkness was upon us and we were in for a sound and light show that was nothing short of magical. The crickets, frogs and birds were in full song, while the teeming fireflies put on a dazzling display reminiscent of star wars. It was truly beautiful. We met Mr. Dasgupta for dinner and good conversation about the wild before hitting the sack at the dormitory.

Day 31

2005-04-04T00:25:00.000-07:00

Distance covered: 97 km
Total distance 5311 km

I awake to the chorus of a million birds flocked all around the guesthouse. After a lazy breakfast and a quick photo shoot for the Oil India newsletter we set out through the narrow and dusty streets of Guwahati heading straight for the Bajaj service station. Shree Auto had great customer service and they were extremely helpful giving us priority service, though four hours later she was still feeling unstable.
Guwahati does not have too much to offer, its main attraction being the Kamakhya Shakti temple located atop a hill, offering an all encompassing 360-degree view of Guwahati and the river Brahmaputra. Except for the haze hanging around the entire area its quite a pretty sight. Except for the main Gopuram the rest of the temple has been rebuilt with only few pieces of the original work visible here and there. The inner sanctum is more impressive with massive stone pillars and blackened rock walls - signs of its long history. The sun was retiring for the day and with the tense situation prevailing around Guwahati with the ULFA rising day fast approaching we had been strictly advised to be indoors by nightfall. But we had to visit the arts and crafts exhibition at Jagran, the state run emporium and as usual ended up buying a lot of interesting and irresistible stuff. The 10 km vide back to Narangi took a long, long time cause we were stopped at least 5 times in the small stretch and searched by the police. It reached a stage where we were yelling at the cops. Getting sick of all this I am looking forward to some peace at Kaziranga and the only encounter I am interested in involves the Rhino.

Day 30

2005-04-03T00:18:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 397 km
Total distance 5214 km

It was the kind of day that makes you wish you had stayed in bed, unfortunately for us it began very early. Barely an hour into the ride and I was wondering what had possessed me to add Assam to my journey at such a late stage. My mind must have gone on a separate vacation. The road or what little is left of it is so infuriating you will want to tear your hair off - but please dont throw it you could definitely use it as added cushioning. I had half a mind to turn around unfortunately the other half was stronger and a lot stupider. The road is scarred, gouged, abused and forgotten and this has made her vicious and spiteful. It is a miserable ride with smallvery small patches of good road. Every time you decide to accelerate the bike begins to bounce and you are lucky if you can avoid the fanged, gaping holes with a vicious bite. The bike took a hell of a beating and so did we. The only excitement - totally unwanted at that was when T.T. suddenly realized he had dropped my jacket. It is a heavy-duty jacket and totally rocks in extreme cold so I had to find it. Leaving T.T. there I rode back a good 15-20 km hoping to find it and just as I was despairing of ever getting it back a truck driver told me a little boy had picked it up and showed me to his home. The kid returned the jacket but demanded a reward of Rs. 200, which I ungrudgingly gave him. Now I had absolutely no idea where I had dropped T.T. off and as expected he hadnt stayed put so the next half hour was spent searching for him. We were back on the road for barely an hour and T.T. announces that he has now lost his jacket and back we turn with me wishing he would just loose himself and get it over with.
Assam doesnt even offer any interesting sights to take your mind off the rattling of your bones. Adding to our misery we were pulled over a couple of times and are baggage was searched in spite of my carrying a letter from the police vouching that we are not criminals though we may look like it. I guess that dont mean shit when you have bombs flying around. On one occasion we were riding and these two guys on bikes try to pull us over and after all the stories you hear about highway robbers there wasnt a chance in the world of me slowing down for them. Finally they announce that they are policemen and flash their frigging walkie-talkie like thats supposed to prove anything.
We entered Guwahati just as the dust and smoke from a series of bomb blasts was settling down so you could say it was an explosive welcome to the town. It was late in the evening before we could check into the Oil India guesthouse, which involved another half hour with the security. It is at one end of a beautiful campus and the air was resonating with the calls of birds all around our room.
The only really memorable moment of the day for me was the first sight of Brahmaputra.

Day 29

2005-04-02T00:14:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 356 km
Total distance 4817 km

With a view like this to wake up to youd went to catch every ray of the sun. Mt Pandim had the most breath taking view of Kanchanjunga and the rest of the range. We visited the famous Pemayagtse Monastery. The artwork on the wall is amazing and shocking. The general perception of Buddha is of peaceful images and calm themes. But the paintings here show him in some frightening, warrior like avatars like Mahakal and in quite a few others there are a lot of violence, gore and evil that is drawn. There are even a lot of sexual Buddha painting but the piece-de-resistance is the 7 tier Gampa built by a single monk over 35 years. It can absolutely drive you mad with the amount of detail and the number of different scenes depicted. You could spend days and still find that you have not been able to take in even a small portion of all that he has created.
We then began our ride to the foothills and back into the heat and low attitudes after almost a week of mountain air. We made one stop at Namchi in otherwise what was a day of sheer floating down hill - Kaya at her best. The newly erected Buddha shrine is a seated Buddha Avatar on a lotus situated at the peak of Namchi that can be seen for miles peering over the landscape. But the actual structure left me cold. It is built like the lobby of a theatre with a lot of glass and marble stairways. The ride back to Siliguri was a farewell to the hills and the river Teesta, which have been our companions over the last week. Once down the hill the traffic becomes a nuisance and we rode a good 20 km in the reverse direction to see if what our Kalimpang lodge owner said was true. After a short break we rode on to Cooch Bihar where we called it a night. Guwahati here we come.

Day 28

2005-04-01T00:07:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 62 km
Total distance 4461 km

We woke up to a spectacular view of Kanchenjunga on a clear day. Bid goodbye to our French friends and headed out to Dabdi Monastery, the oldest one in Sikkim built in 1701. It is a short but steep climb to the top and the surface is slippery with moss and dew. The thick forest around you and the steadily improving sight of the mountains makes it a very interesting trek. At the top of the hill rests the beautiful and serene monastery and its faded yet splendid wall paintings speak volumes about the years gone by and exude memories of the past. The sculptures inside are old beyond memory and the room upstairs houses an antique statue and writings on wooden scrolls, wrapped in bundles and kept in slots. There is a beautiful painting of the wheel of life and the place exudes age and wisdom. We visited a couple of other monasteries and the coronation throne. After a hearty breakfast of pancakes and Tibetan bread we headed back to Pemayagtse. The ride back was as spectacular and the weather a lot better. We stopped at the Kanchenjunga waterfalls which is exactly on the route but hidden from the road by the hill. It is a small but forceful fall with a tiny, beautiful pool at its bottom.
The water is crystal clear and the place is paradise for a swim except for the fact that you may just freeze to death. The water was cold so we had to take pleasure in her only visually. From there we rode on to lake, 10 km off the main road. The lake is considered holy and has a number of religious structures around including a walkway over the water with a number of prayers wheels. Buddhist flags and banners surround the lake. The lake does not impress in size of appearance but in its tranquility. As we reached Pemayagtse we passed through Pelling and caught sight of Phillpe. After a nice hot bath we met them for dinner. Spent most of the evening with them and swapped travel stories and culture exchange. They are not rich people and when they paid for our dinner saying it was their contribution to our trip I was very touched. It was very timely too since I was down to 100Rs. with no ATM for a long while and the bike low on gas with a long ride ahead of us.

Day 27

2005-03-31T00:00:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 153 km
Total distance 4399 km

It has been a day of riding and what a ride its been. It has taken me years of riding and a lot of pain to know what I know about bikes but the love for Kaya was born in an instant as I rode down the Ghats of Coorg. Todays ride was a reinforcement of that love and a reminder of how beautifully she handles the hills. She feels most at home along the winding roads that are so symbolic of our mountains. If the ride down Coorg was good the ride from Gangtok to west Sikkim was nothing short of spectacular. Each day I think this is the finest ride possible only to experience something far better. Each turn brings with it a spectacular view and each bend a breath taking pictures. Kaya literally flows down these hills and handles the bends to perfection without so much as a twitch. With the carriers and extra weight I was a little worried about banking her but once we got into the flow it was like she had a mind of her own. The entire journey is a revelation of the different mountains that make up this region from snow-covered whites to dense greens. The entire landscape is like a gigantic rock garden with gurgling streams, waterfalls and suspension bridges. Sikkim tourism provided us with star accommodation at Mt. Pandim, Pemayagtse but we decided to head out and camp at Yuksom, the last bastion of civilization before we entire the realms of the great Himalayas. Yuksom is also the start off point for the climb of Kanchenjunga. The view if anything, gets better and the road, well there is no road to speak off just a gravel track that is as treacherous as it is exciting but then with so much else to appreciate who gives a fuck about the road. You can catch sight of the narrow path snaking its way along the side of the hills for miles and the sheer drops send tingles down your spine. The entire path is along landslide regions and covered with loose gravel and innumerous streams that greatly trickle across the path. The tire is no more than a foot from the precipice and one miscalculated turn will send you hurtling down into the foamy depths of river Ranjit that is a constant companion along the entire journey. We reached there just in time to avoid the rain. But it put paid any ideas of camping out. The place is a trekkers paradise and teeming with foreigners. We got talking to a lovely French couple (Violet and Phillpe) and enjoyed their company a lot. It was nice talking to them about our culture, religion and belief. There are very few places available for accommodation and they were kind enough to share a room with us. The place in serene and quite and even the two restaurants close at 8 pm with the police making sure that everybody is off the streets.

Day 26

2005-03-30T23:49:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 42 km
Total distance 4246 km

I turned 26 today and it was one of the most simple and yet spectacular birthdays that I have celebrated - no parties, no festivities, only the appreciation of life and the joy of being alive. What we saw today was a glimpse of paradise but what made the day special were the inhabitants of this paradise. I have just had the opportunity to meet some of the sweetest people and nothing is as satisfying as experiencing human warmth and joy. The air of informality and gaiety in the Sikkim tourism office is infectious. They had called an impromptu press meeting and the response was, quite simply put amazing not in terms of numbers but in enthusiasm and understanding which is all the more impressive. There were four extremely young, excitable and fun guys and one old lady who is younger in thought and the zest for life than most teens I have met. The air was casual and they seemed to sense what I was trying to accomplish here. On finding out it was my Bday they broke into an instant song and the grand old lady actually gave me her pen saying it was from one writer to another. Couple of them claimed to be inspired by the idea, which means a lot. The fact that T.T who generally cant be bothered about others and doesnt care a hoot for what others think was touched by their attitude and that says a lot. Mr. Dong from the Tourism office gave us free accommodation and food at Pemayagtse for the two days that we will be there. Their well wishes and their attitude left me a little overwhelmed. The entire experience with the people of the hills from the chai shops, to the lodge owners, to the people on the street has been very pleasing and that alone makes this place tops in my heart. And of course lets not forget what it is really known for - its unsurpassed beauty.
We visited the most stunning sight I have seen (I havent really seen all that much - yet). We left at 9 am for Changu lake and were back only in time for the press meet at 4 pm but Changu is all the beauty you can handle in a day. They do not allow private vehicles and bikes towards Changu because the road is in restricted army area and is frequented by avalanches, landslides and treacherous climate (Kaya would have done it easily though if only they had let us). So we shared a cab with 2 Indian families and drove down to Changu. The climb is as exciting as it is beautiful, driving right on the edge with waterfalls beside you and streams crossing the path. You catch spectacular glimpses of the road winding and turning as it snakes its way across the misty mountaintops offering you an awesome perspective of the journey ahead. The majestic Himalayas come into view and the snow-capped peaks are revealed further and further by the minute. You can only wait with bated breath as you get closer to your destination. And what a sight it is, far and beyond all I had imagined or dared to expect after the disappointments of the last few days. Located at 12,100 ft the frozen lake is surrounded by white peaks vanishing into the clouds. The ice is very thin and people are not allowed to step on the lake, which only adds to the allure and aura of mystery exuded by Changu. For those interested and too lazy to walk there is the excitement of Yak rides. I have a theory about the Indian traveler and that is they dont travel. They never move more then 50 feet from where they are dropped off and never look at anything from a different angle. So at any crowded destination just walk a few paces down the road less taken and you shall find all the solitude required. I decided to scale the highest peak around the lake and now in hindsight it was quite dangerous and extremely dumb. But rash stupidity is my specialty. Off I went - off my mind that is - and before too long I was all-alone. The snow was untouched and the only disturbance in the whiteness was my own trail and the few branches graving out of the snow. It felt like I was going where no man has gone before. The excitement gave way to exertion and trepidation, as the going suddenly got tougher. The air was getting colder yet I was sweating and a couple of times I sank deep into the snow, finding it very difficult to extricate myself from it. But I had to reach the top, the summit, the pinnacle - it became my personal Mt Everest. The snow was getting into my boots and my feet were painfully cold. But it was worth the effort. The view from atop was mind numbingly beautiful but then again that could have just been the cold. You catch an awesome view of the lake spread out before cradled between gorgeous hills. I had a moment of panic on the way down when the snow get into my books and they wouldnt come off. I thought my feet would get frost bitten but after some frantic tugging I managed to get them off. A few steps later I slipped and came hurtling down the hill with only a few branches to break my velocity. After the initial fear it is absolutely exhilarating beyond words and the only complaint was from my frozen bum. The clouds began to descend soon after and I left Changu my feet cold but my heart warm with joy.

Day 25

2005-03-29T22:55:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 93 km
Total distance 4204 km

We began the day with a ride to Deolo point the highest peak in Kalimpang but again the mist obscured any chance of catching sight of the snow covered peaks of the Himalayas. The largest mountains in the world and they were doing an excellent job of hiding from us. I was beginning to believe that fate had decided to play a bad joke on us and somebody up there had a real wicked sense of humor. With nothing to gain here we decided to continue towards Gangtok and hopefully better climes. Just when I was thinking the route could not get any better it does just that. The scenery along the Sikkim sector is like riding into a masterpiece. There are a range of hills spread out before you in a wide panoramic view, all tree covered with small waterfalls and a river running between the hills. There are the quaintest bridges running over the river at various places- suspension bridges, wooden bridges, bridges that look ready to collapse, bridges that have already collapsed. Each bend brought with it a new vision and uncontrolled excitement. And finally we caught our first sight of the Himalayas. The disappointment of the days before were forgotten in that brief moment and I had to stop and stare in awe at the towering peaks all capped in white with icy tentacles stretching down its time worn surfaces. With a whoop of joy we raced on to Gangtok. Just as we arrived there the rain Gods decided to gate crash the party and I almost found myself shedding tears of frustration but luckily it was a short spell and the skies kind of cleared up. We headed for the tourist information center, got all the required details and suggestions and then went ahead and did the exact opposite. We checked out 3 viewpoints Tashi, Ganesh Tok and Hanuman Tok, all of them offering spectacular and expansive views of the mountain range. Finally I was content. The mist began to creep in and the sun disappeared behind the clouds leaving us cold and with no choice but to head back.
One really excellent feature about Gangtok is that all traffic in the main market is stopped after 5 pm. Vehicles arent even allowed to park around the area leaving the streets calm and ideal for a pleasant stroll. The market exists at different levels along the hill with narrow steps leading from one lane to the other. The streets are lined with curio stores and eateries. A nice dinner later we retired to our room at the Shikara lodge.
For the first time we came across other tourers today. They were a group of riders from Kolkata who had just completed a journey of Sikkim and were headed back. It was nice to meet some other like-minded bikers and we stopped to swap stories. On hearing about our venture they responded with enthusiasm and motivation, wishing us luck as they sped away into the distance. I hope I meet more Indian riders along the journey.

Day 24

2005-03-28T22:46:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 57 km
Total distance 4111 km

It was another extremely cloudy dawn but it began to look promising after a while with a hint of the sun. By the time we got to the viewpoints, and we were the earliest out on the streets the clouds were rolling in and we were staring into the white. We headed to the HMI (Himalayan Mountaineering Institute), which is an inspiration to any climber or adventurer and will definitely convert the undecided. The HMI is within the zoo but I did not spend too much time there because I am not fond of seeing animals in captivity. There is no fire in their eyes and they exist as mannequins - a pale ghost of their former selves. The clouds showed no signs of dissipating and the weather of improving; it was not the discomfort that was getting me down but the lack of anything to see or do. With the weather looking bleak we decided to move on but before that I stopped at the Tibetan arts and crafts shop. It turned out to be a fascinating and regrettable experience with hundreds of beautiful and funky trinkets catching your eye and your wallet. An hour later I was 3000Rs lighter and my bags a lot heavier.
The ride from Darjeeling to Kalimpang was short and yet by far the most spectacular ride I have completed so far in terms of sheer natural magnificence. The first half of the journey downward you are surrounded by pine forests and tea gardens. The rain fell again but this time it was raining leaves - a very ethereal feeling. Suddenly everything becomes even more spectacular as you catch your first sight of the Teesta river and from then on you cant take your eyes off it as it unfolds before you. The old bridges and new ones, forested hills on all sides, winding roads and at the center of it all, Teesta, with its gentle rapids and pebble strewn shores with patches of powdered sand. We took Kaya onto a small pathway running parallel to the river and managed to ride across the sandy shore to the waters edge. The place is ideal for camping but though sorely tempted we knew it would be better to head for Kalimpang. On most of trips we usually camp out more than staying indoors and the fact that we had yet to pitch tent was beginning to bother me. But with just two of us, and expensive cameras to boot it doesnt look very likely - definitely when we get to north and south India. The weather was starting to sour so we raced on to Kalimpang but it was already too dark to go anywhere so having an early dinner we called it a night at the Sherpa guest house. Tomorrow I shall make another attempt to sight the Himalayas and then head on to Sikkim.

Day 23

2005-03-27T20:10:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 108 km
Total distance 4054 km

We awoke at 5am and froze our fingers, mind and balls off so that we could stare intowellwhite nothingness. The sunrise from tiger hill is supposed to be one of the worlds great spectacles with the sun rising over Mt Everest and Kanchenjunga. All we got to see was a dense white cloud and when the sun managed to show itself for a fleeting moment it had all the effect of a torchlight flashing on the moon. Darjeeling was a town under siege, by clouds that is, so we headed out for Mirik about 40km downhill from Darjeeling. The ride to Mirik is awesome. The narrow winding roads are lined with towering pine trees peering over the valley and further on you are surrounded by steps of tea gardens and the aroma fills your nostrils. Some of the glimpses you get of the road ahead as they crest over the peaks, excites you and fills you with pleasure. On the route to Mirik you pass the Indo-Nepalese border and the lure of riding into another country altogether was too strong. We rode past the Pashupathi market which is the tourist destination and thought of going further into the Country when we were stopped by a border patrol. Because of the prevailing tension they seemed to be a trifle anxious and on seeing our cameras they absolutely freaked. Wanting to avoid any incident we turned back without further ado. Mirik is home to a beautiful monastery resting atop a hill and surrounded by a pine forest with the entire spectacle reflecting in the tranquil waters of the Mirik lake. Like most tourist destinations in India the lake is home to horse rides, boating and noisy families but none of it can take an iota away from the natural splendor of Mirik. I could have spent the entire day staring into the icy waters watching the clouds roll in but the very same clouds were our cue to get moving. The clouds engulfed the trees and swallowed the lake in a cinematic scene. Soon it was too dense to see and with it came the cold and the rain. The ride back was completed blind and we were very fortunate to have not gone off the cliff or ended up making love to a tree. The miserable weather spoiled the great outdoors for us so we decided to go in for some spiritual exercise by visiting Darjeelings famous monasteries.
You cannot miss these beautiful buildings, located at some of the most picturesque sites their distinct pagodas rising over the rest, all painted in bright shades of orange and red with equally vibrant gateways. They all have Stupas with very mysterious eyes painted on them, which are somehow eye catching. The monasteries are extremely calm and serene, exuding an aura of divinity. It was mid-day and the prayer halls were closed but they never turn you away. The halls are opened for you by one of the monks on request. My first sight of a prayer hall quite literally was breathtaking. The entire walls were covered in brightly colored, intricate and mythical paintings. They are old; moisture and heat have taken their toll and they are faded and tarnished at numerous places. There are numerous large tapestries called tankas hanging from the wall each depicting an elaborate scene from mythology. The prayer halls are like the most amazing curio shops with so many different artworks depicting the Buddha or scenes from their belief. It is a haven of tranquility and steeped in age-old custom. Wherever we stepped inside the monastery the monk would be close behind us - at first I was unnerved by this eccentric behavior but then noticed that he was following our every footstep and mopping the floor behind us. After that I felt a little guilty to enter the monasteries after closing time. The prayer halls are surrounded by numerous small prayer wheels on the outside and have one very large prayer wheel in a separate room, which rings a bell. We headed back to the town but the temperature suddenly dropped a few more notches and the air was so cold my chest began to hurt. The entire town was closed and we returned to our room and warmed up the place with some intense fuming.

Day 22

2005-03-26T19:59:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 248
Total distance 3946 km

We started the day early in a futile attempt to evade the bad weather and more importantly to enjoy the picturesque ride up to Darjeeling. The initial stretch of the ride was quite bumpy and slow which leads to a flying 4lane road. Unfortunately this brilliant ride comes to an abrupt end with one entire side of the road making way for the local wholesale market. There was a moment of panic when I was suddenly found myself being blessed by two large cut outs of Lallu Prasad and Rabri Devi. What the hell was I doing in Bihar? A quick look at the map put me at ease - we had just crossed Kishanganj and would be back in Bengal in a moment. After that bit of excitement the ride was quite peaceful. Green continued to be the predominant color though instead of paddy fields we were surrounded by tea gardens. I always presumed the estates were located only on the hills but they extend all along the foothills around Siliguri. The climb begins just after Siliguri and the next 70km is an ascent into the clouds. The climb is not very steep but the road is narrow, rain eroded and the going is slow with an unusual twist - you have to keep an eye out for the World Heritage Toy Train whose unmanned rail tracks you cross-innumerous times. People will tell you that Darjeeling is spectacular and what they say is true, but let me tell you the ride to Darjeeling is even more so. The hills are covered with trees and tea estates unfolding in waves of green and ochre. As you climb higher the chain of mountains reveal themselves in all their glory with simple stilt houses jutting out of them into nothing. You can catch glimpses of the road snaking its way around the mountain to the top. You can see the clouds swallowing the peaks and at times swallowing you, which can be a problem because visibility is cut to a few inches. Just as we were getting a feel of the bends and breathless with excitement the rain gods whom we seem to have offended decided to rain in on our party. The next half of the journey was a lesson in pleasurable suffering. Doesnt make sense? Let me explain. We were wet, shivering, miserably cold, fingers numb, blue faced and yet at no stage did we despair or curse our luck because the beauty when revealed through the mist, the excitement of sights yet unseen and the joy of being there makes it all worth it and more. The wet rods made the climb all the more treacherous and the rail lines were insanely slippery. I am sure the ride would have been even more spectacular and the views breathtaking if it hadnt been for the weather but whos complaining - the only regret I have is the lack of photographs. We checked into a cozy little place called Embassy guesthouse. This is one toilet that definitely doesnt need a book because the view offered from the large windows is going to keep you occupied and its too cold to linger in there anyways. The sun had retired for the day and the streets wore a deserted look at 7.00pm, which I found surprising for such a popular tourist destination. We were eating at the most popular restaurant in town and they had run out of food before 8.00pm with people still coming in desperate to get a bite. After a great Tibetan dinner we went to bed, eagerly anticipating what is supposedly the most awesome sunrise over the Himalayas.
The road up to Darjeeling has some of the most amusing little warnings all along the way. They are apt to cause more accidents because you are trying to read every single one of them or youre too busy laughing to keep your eyes on the road.

Day 21

2005-03-25T19:53:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 344
Total distance 3698 km

We had a long day ahead of us but yesterdays adventure had left us tired and we need some extra sleep to recuperate. As we stepped out of the guesthouse I was confronted by a truly terrifying sight; a woman straight out of evil dead oozing green and red from every pore in her face. A moment later confronted by a second scarier figure I realized it was Holi and time for some evasive action. The usually elegant black road was dressed in colors- vibrant and lively. It was like a star-wars galactic battle, avoiding the people on the streets trying to add color to our dull appearance. With no intention of getting our clothes wet again we raced on towards our first stop Lalbag about 90km from Krishnanagar. Once the home of the Nawab it is now a crowded little town with dilapidated remains of the past peppering it. The HazarDarwai, which is now a museum, unfortunately closed on Fridays, and the largest Imambara in Bengal are the only buildings of any significance, the rest sorry looking remains a few of which are undergoing what vaguely resembles restoration. The Imambara is the most impressive with a beautiful prayer hall rich in glasswork. The facade now white washed has lost its original touch but that is true of so many religious buildings. The rain that had been threatening the entire time decided to stop teasing and show itself. With no other option we pulled over on the side of the road. With not a vehicle in sight a lorry driver who probably thought he was competing for the World Rally Championships came swerving onto the gravel and bumped into Kaya, throwing her off the stand. Luckily she is one tough cookie and escaped with nothing more than a busted meter. The rain was beginning to annoy and play havoc with my schedule. By the time we reached Maldah it was already getting dark and we couldnt spend too much time at the extensive ruins because they are unprotected and unsafe. It is a pity that archeological sites are at the mercy of thugs but the local population advised us not to linger once darkness descended. We called it a day at Raiganj with another 250 km to go before reaching Darjeeling. I am surprised at my own patience with the rain. Under normal circumstances I would have blown a fuse long back and thrown a fit in frustration. On this journey it has yet to dampen my spirits.

Day 20

2005-03-24T19:48:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: 203
Total distance 3354 km

The entire day was washed away, literally. The storm from the previous night showed no signs of dissipating. Andy, T.T and I were the only people left on the island because everybody else had either left early or were out on a tour. By the time we decided to leave the rain had gotten stronger, the seas rougher and the boat could not take to the water. So we just sat there watching the water level rise higher than wed ever seen it, each lost in our own thoughts. The water level rose till the entire ground was submerged and our stilts were now proving useful. Sunderbans had ended up captivating me not only in mind but body also. The rain finally ceased around mid-morning and we though it was safe to head out little knowing that it was a trap to get us out of our comfortable shelter. After a quick first crossing I experienced one of the most idyllic and serene journeys that it has been my pleasure to take. The flattop cycle rickshaw ride through the narrow tree and pond-lined streets of Pakirala is for a loss of words - blissful. The rain had cleared the area and everything wore a clean and fresh look. Even the lives of people looked brighter as we were greeted by waving, smiling faces (including the elder) walking down the lanes or standing in front of their pastoral abodes. Their mud huts, thatched roofs, palm trees and personal pools all surrounded by a sea of invigorating green - a green that symbolizes life in India in more ways than one. The cycle ride was followed by a second river crossing and another unique mode of transportation; a flattop cycle rickshaw with a canopy and an engine to boot. The going was bumpy - it was like riding a bucking horse - but great fun and the surroundings continued to please the eye. The sun must have been having a very bad hair day because he was yet to show his face and the drizzle began again. We were aboard the boat for our final river crossing, congratulating ourselves on staying dry when the rain clouds opened up in what was to be the heaviest rain yet. We were soaked to the skin in a mater of seconds. The three of us must have made a sorry sight but the rain was so thick we couldnt see each other to ridicule. There was no way our boat would make it across the swollen waters and the lashing winds so we had to return to the bank and wait for the water to calm down before attempting another crossing. Finally at about 3.00pm we were united with Kaya again. It was time to say goodbye to Andy, and we were sorry to see him go. He had been good company over the last couple of days. Safe travels mate.
We dried ourselves as quickly as possible and headed out on what was to be a very long journey looking more like a moving clothes line than a motorbike. The scenery went from great to spectacular and it seemed as if we had ridden into a cinematic landscape of the idyllic village as the seas of green were transformed into pools of blue. The haze of light penetrating the swirls of dense cloud can only be described as mood lighting. Just when the going was good the rain decided to drop in again and soak us. We decided to brave the weather and get some distance behind us. By then I could barely keep my eyes open but somehow we managed to cover about 200 km to Krishnanagar where we checked into a Jain guesthouse. I passed out hoping for better winds tomorrow. Little did I know that this was just the beginning of a horrid spell.

Day 19

2005-03-23T04:43:00.000-08:00

Distance covered: no riding
Total distance 3151 km

Awoke with wispy memories of staring into the blazing eyes of a tiger. I had been startled out of my sleep by a noise on the roof. I couldnt figure it out and without giving it too much thought went to the watchtower to catch sunrise. It was another cloudy morning but the forest was slowly revealed from the haze, bathing in the first rays of the day. By the time we got back to our room it had been ransacked. The noise on the roof had been monkeys and they had searched us for food. After another annoying face off with the officials we were finally off on the boat tour with four Czech women. A very unfortunate feature about the forests in India; you are compelled to take a guide with you but they have no knowledge or information to share and are mute witnesses to the days events.
Our launch was a two-tier vessel with a covered lower deck and a canopied upper one. It made enough noise to scare away a troop of marauding elephants miles away and it took us noisily through the waterways that snake their way through the thick mangrove territory vanishing into swamps. To begin with we stayed with the wider channels and went to a watchtower on another island. We couldnt spot any animals and were getting absolutely no feel of the real swampland so the restlessness and disappointment began to grow. T.T then began a conversation with the guide- which lasted pretty much through out the rest of the ride; he either was charmed by him or just wanted him off his back, whatever the reason the ride then got really interesting. They completely cut the motor and gently floated and pushed their way through the narrower inlets, avoiding the floating logs and rebellious plants that were growing in the middle of the creek. The water had receded quite a bit by then revealing the intricate, tentacle like network of roots and pneumatophores growing upwards like spikes; natures barricade saying mankind stay out.
If you are stupid enough to be in one of the smaller creeks when the waters recede youll find yourself with a paddle and no water to row in making a nice snack for the prowling tigers and crocodile. To be honest I didnt expect to see any tigers but you always hope against hope and as the day was coming to an end all we had seen were some interesting monitor lizards, ever present deer and a myriad of birds. Suddenly our guide was shouting in excitement, he had spotted tiger pugs and thats as close as we were to get. The mud was wet and fresh but even if the tiger hadnt been scared away by the motor our guides yelling would have. Either way it is a footprint that will be forever engraved on my mind. We went back to our island and another argument with the management.
Writing in the lantern light, the stillness of the jungle was suddenly shattered by the peal of thunder and the entire forest was caught in a torrential downpour as the skies opened up. Adding to an already eerie setting, Lallu the camp dog the laziest dog Ive seen began to charge frantically up and down the corridor, howling into the unseen jungle. We tried to catch sight of what it was that had excited him but the shadows were plying tricks on our minds and we saw everything from to demons and of course lots of tigers. Retiring to bed Im not too disappointed about not seeing a tiger because in the year ahead I shall have many more opportunities.

Day 18

2005-03-22T04:33:00.000-08:00

Distance covered 110 km
Total distance 3151 km

The day had to begin early because the journey to Sunderbans was long, unsure and time consuming. It took us a while to get out of Kolkata and once on the highway we were greeted with an assault on our olfactory system. It was a continuous bombardment of the deadliest and most obnoxious odors, each more stomach churning than the other. It starts with the mild smell of sewage, which is absolutely pleasant in comparison to the reeking fish. Much worse was to follow - the noxious fumes of burning rubber and the overpowering smell of Tanneries. We had just crossed a small village town when Kaya started slewing all over the road and I knew we had just got our first flat tire. A nail as large, menacing and ugly as Godzillas had ripped a hole not only in my tube but had pierced my tire, tearing a bullet hole.

I was about to start fretting when we rode into a dream. It was an artists vision of an Indian farmland. Coconut trees and singular huts surrounded by acres of submerged plots. With the workers in the fields it appeared as if they were farming water. Unfortunately but amusingly I had to keep my eyes on other things.
Question: Why did the duck cross the street?
Answer: To get run over by us.
Unfortunately for them we foiled their suicidal intentions by some amazingly deft and extremely fortunate riding. If you thought Indian pedestrians are bad you should have a run in with Indian ducks. You have to stop not only for mother duck but also her adorable ducklings as they peacefully waddle across the street, taking time off to smell the streets. By the time we reached Basanti it was close to noon and it was the end of the ride for Kaya. We had to leave her there because we were to make a couple of boat rides and motor vehicles are not allowed on Sajnekali the island sanctuary that we were staying on.
We met a Swiss dude heading our way and got friendly with him, helping him with language. When he mentioned that hes from Bihar I thought hes either crazy or a fucking serial killer. Actually Andy turned out to be a great guy. Hes the same age as us and hes seen so much of the World. Hes even seen more of India than most Indians I know. Hes not rich; hes not a bum but can travel with the money he earns. Andy was in Bihar on a project and he said the only violence he had come across was in the papers. He had spent a few weeks there in a remote village and said he had absolutely no problem. The ferry ride took a good hour and a half followed by an hour on flat top cycle rickshaw through amazingly picturesque towns unscarred by the wheels of progress. It was a joy watching the huts go by and this very relaxing and unusual cycle journey brought us to another boat ride- a short one, and our final destination, Sajnekali National Park in the Sunderbans. As we approached our lodge my first feeling was one of disappointment because I had expected marshland and thick jungles but the land here looked dry.
After checking into our room - made out of wood and resting on stilts, just for style I assumed, we decided to take a walk into the cordoned forest area and catch the sunset. Thats when we were stopped by an obstinate, ridiculous and unhelpful forest officer who wouldnt let Andy enter. Foreigners are required to obtain a permit to enter the sanctuary and Andy had spent the entire day before doing exactly that. The incompetent official had given him the permission for a date one month ago. It was an obvious typo but the ranger wouldnt see reason and was beginning to piss me off with his attitude. It took a heated and protracted argument before he would even cough up the fact that we could ride across to the previous island and obtain permission. This after I asked him a hundred times if there was anything we could do. His standard reply; Theres nothing I can do, the stupid communist ass. It ended with us having to go back across by boat and obtain the permission for Andy. By the time all formalities were concluded and we returned to our island the sun had all but disappeared and the forest was off limit but we had to pay the entry money for visiting the forest because we had crossed the forest line when making our request earlier. Did I not mention something about communists?

The day wasnt a total washout. We were taking in the scenery from the watchtower in the vicinity when we were entertained by a spectacular lightning storm revealing the jungle in eerie streaks of light but there was no rain. It was while coming down from the watchtower that we made an exciting discovery. The dry land surrounding the lodge was now submerged. On walking further we discovered that most of our jetty and the shore had vanished, and we were locked in. The entire place wore a wild and untamed look; its no wonder they strictly asked us not to move about after 8.00pm, which we were blatantly disobeying. The site has no electric supply and is run on generators by day and at night they provide you with a kerosene lantern under whose flickering gaze I am now writing.

Day 17

2005-03-21T04:22:00.000-08:00

Distance covered 30 km

Total distance 3041 km

I guess I wasn’t to be granted the respite of a good sleep and a fitful night later I found myself wide-awake in the middle of the night with disturbing thoughts pervading my mind. It was the inactivity and knew I had to get back on the road. With nothing better to do I decided to wash my underwear at this ridiculous hour to take my mind off things. Unfortunately the idea was a complete failure since washing your inners doesn’t really occupy much of your mind. Even worse I couldn’t find my detergent so I decided to use the shower gel. Now I have undies with lime freshness and extra energy.

I don’t enjoy cities all that much and Kolkata was no exception. The cities are more for pit stops than anything else and I just wanted to get Kaya fixed and ride out of there. What little I saw of Kolkata left me unimpressed though I might be biased and my interaction with the people was minimal. It reminded me more of an overgrown town than a cosmopolitan city. The roads are bad, congested and filthy. The shops are small and uninteresting. I am yet to figure out the point in having rail trams if they form part of the traffic and have to stop at signals. The roads are made worse with you bumping over the tracks. It took us forever to find a Bajaj Service Centre and that too was a small incompetent little place with no spares. While the bike was getting fixed I tried to find an Internet center, which turned out to be equally difficult, and none of them have either cd -rom drives or usb ports. Are they living in the dark ages or what?

With Kaya under the lamps we took a taxi to get around town. The city center is more elegant and impressive with large buildings telling the story of our British heritage. These buildings are all government offices today and are still noteworthy. The most imposing of them all is the Victoria Memorial with a completely European feel to it. The roads though are still narrow and congested. We visited the writers building to meet the Secretary of Tourism and almost got myself arrested. They discovered my ‘leatherman’ (it is a heavy duty version of the Swiss army knife) and thinking it was a deadly weapon, had me surrounded like a crazed killer. It took a heated debate and a bit of yelling before I could convince the stubborn commie’s of my innocence. They made T.T wait at the gate with it while I was permitted to go inside. The meeting went off quite well and we were offered 50% discount on boarding and lodging at Sundarbans. By the time I went outside there was a team of police gathered around where I had left T.T. I presumed he had got himself into some sort of trouble and rushed to the site only to find him demonstrating the different tools on the ‘leatherman’ as they watched intently as if it were magic. Picked up Kaya from the service center and rode out to the famed Houra Bridge and a look at the city under the cover of darkness. As we settle in to sleep I eagerly await our entry into the lair of the Bengal Tiger.

Day 16

2005-03-20T04:10:00.000-08:00

Distance covered 20 km

Total distance 3011 km

Spent most of the day in my room trying to understand and control my fears and trepidations. Am still trying to recover from the betrayal of my mind and my beliefs. I am sure of my wants and believe in my endeavor, then why the qualms. I love what I’m doing but I think I have just realized that there is no turning back come what may. It is no longer within my control, I have traveled far along the path and my bridges are burnt. The price I have paid - choice and life, as I know it.

Accepting the fact that there is no longer a question of deserting my vision I felt much lighter and more eager to go on. It was a Sunday and I had to wait till tomorrow to get Kaya in shape. Kolkata beckoned and so out I went, to feel her charm but something was very wrong. Not a shop was open, not a soul in sight. A good 20 km of riding and I was yet to see the bustling activity that so characterizes Kolkata when it came to me. It was the final day of the India-Pakistan test match at Eden Garden. Every Bengali if not Indian must be glued to his T.V set gunning for Saurav Dada and his boys. After piling on to some sumptuous Bengali sweets I decided to hit the sack early, as I had to catch up on some lost dreams.

alive and riding

2005-03-20T04:00:00.000-08:00

“sorry, sorry, sorry” – and these are not famous last words

I must apologize for the disappearing act but the days have been long and weary and exciting leaving me without enough time to gather my thoughts let alone frame them in a comprehending manner. For all of you have waited I thank you and hope it will be worth it. I have some time now and I am going to bring the blog up to date along with some fantastic pictures over the next couple of days.

The photos are up

2005-03-20T01:11:00.000-08:00

The photos are now uploaded on yahoo photos and will be updated regularly. to access them you may go to http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/kayadreams/my_photos.

Orissan Odyssey

2005-03-19T03:07:00.000-08:00

Day 6: Thursday 10th March
Distance covered 110 km
Total distance 1198 km

“in the light of a new day the ugliness of yesterday is washed away”

Vishakapatnam is actually a lot prettier than I initially gave it credit for. For starters it is witness to a beautiful dawn and I was lucky enough to enjoy it before going right back to sleep. I ended up spending all of the morning and quite a bit of the afternoon transferring images from my camera onto a computer and thence on to the blog. With most of the day gone by we raced up the hill to Simhachalam, the ancient temple at the top of this beautiful hill. The ride up the hill is peaceful with some nice views of the city and hills on offer. The temple itself is not too large but built to impress. The main temple is quite plain from the outside but the inside pillars are decorated in simple but very skilled work. The pillar bases and tops are carved in the shape of lotuses and the predominant feature is the lion ‘Narasimha’. There are also carvings of different sexual positions but how anybody can pull those positions off is beyond me.
We then headed out for Bhimli. This is the old part of the Vizak area and lies at the other end of a picture perfect stretch of road that follows the beach. The road is marvelous with hills on one side and palm covered dunes on the other – the sand at some places spilling on to the road in a bid to reclaim its lost territory. Kaya is no dune buggy but she holds her own on the sand and we took her for an ocean ride. With the waves skimming her tires and washing away her treads it was as if she were floating. This road also takes us past Rishikonda, a hill leading onto splendid beach, and Thotakonda which is the site of a 3000 year old Buddhist complex still being excavated and makes no sense at all. The view from the site is quite a thing though. These spiritualists sure knew how to pick a spot.
I have yet to experience anything that captivates my soul or has me holding my breath and unless something special comes along soon I fear the excitement within me will burn out.
Thought for the day: noticed something strange at Simhachalam. Most of the faces on the sculptures seem to have been intentionally chipped away or broken.

Day 7: Friday March 11th
Distance covered 327 km
Total distance 1525 km

“there will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much: but then if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another”

I am writing this from a hospital bed. We have completed a week on the road now and a long week it has been with nothing really great to show for it. I look back on it as the breaking in period. A time to ease ourselves into the journey -a warm up for a vacation, how cool is that? to test Kaya and our bodies. I had my fears about how Kaya would hold up after all the hammering she took on the first two days. I can only smile with pride. It was another day of over expectations – the gigantic fort at Vizianagaram was a gigantic disappointment. From outside the solid fort walls look impressive and imposing but these once mighty walls meant to keep invaders out is now used to keep truants in. the aura of this mighty place has been destroyed by making it an education complex. From here we rode on to Srikakulam which is home of the famous Sun temple. It is supposedly one of only two Sun temples and the only one still under worship – which is actually a pity. The temple has been recently renovated and painted white. The white for some reason seems to take away all charm from these ancient marvels adding to which the railings and coverings block of any chance of a good look at the structure. The main temple reflects the Orissa style of architecture and consists of a beautifully carved gopuram with 4 wheels at its base. But as mentioned there is no vantage point to get a complete look at it.
From there we rode on to our next destination Berhampur, Orissa. If I’ve used the word Wow or any superlative to describe any of the roads previously, I apologize for my ignorance. I’ve just discovered the meaning of the word on national highway 5. the distance was a good 200 plus km but with all our wandering, a lengthy wrong turn it became closer to 300 km. Add a little time off playing with langoors and a break to escape the rain, and it becomes one long journey.
Like I said I’m writing this from a hospital bed in Behrampur. No, nothing’s wrong. My dad happens to know a Doctor here who was kind enough to let us stay in one of the wards. The downside to it was his insistence that I give a talk at the Rotract club about our journey. An embarrassing 5 minutes and many zapped looks later we were out os there and doing what we were supposed to. We paid a visit to Thakurani temple dedicated to the Goddess Kali. After a sumptuous home cooked meal we headed back to our ward.
I bade goodbye to my homeland and a familiar tongue today and it will be ten long months before I come back to her. Tomorrow the journey really begins.
p.s: the strong winds blowing across the road had Kaya swaying around like an excited dogs tail and the blast of air as the lorries fly past is enough to knock you out of your saddle.
T.T declares a ban on food from any small, dingy and unhygienic eatery and then promptly goes buys out the shop and earns him self a stomach ache.

Day 8: Saturday March 12th
Distance covered 150
Total distance 1675

“ I’m tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin deep. That’s deep enough. What do you want an adorable Pancreas?

We started the day with a 55 km ride to Taptapani located on the Ghats. The sulphur spring turned out to be a damp squib. You are not allowed to bathe in the actual sulphur pool, which has become a holy site but can bathe from the water flowing into the tank a couple of feet away. The episode put me into a pisser of a mood – couldn’t take any more of these letdowns. The one and a half hour journey was longer than the time we spent there. The road is pretty bad but there are a number of ponds used by man and bird alike that takes your mind off it. T.T on the other hand declared the place worthwhile. You first have to understand a bit about him. T.T (Telugu Travolta) spends half an hour of each morning, noon and night attending to his delicate and precious complexion and color – this inspite of being a shade away from being declared a nigger. From moisturizer to mud pack anything to bring out the Brad Pitt. So, he spent a good hour soaking in the spring water and proclaimed it a success. We each took something back with us – T.T a glowing complexion (that’s what he thinks) and me a howling headache.
Heading on to Gopalpur I had my temper high and expectations low. Fortunately it turned out to be a perfect evening. The gathering of dark clouds and a steady wind kept the temperature down and for a while it was actually cold. The beach is one of the nicest I have come across and surprisingly clean for a tourist destination and a fisherman’s port. It is a wide and long stretch of soft sand under the gaze of a lighthouse and an old dilapidated stronghold. After a short spell of rain the sun came out again lighting up the sky in beautiful hues. The highlight of the evening though was watching the fishermen come in with their variety of fish and auctioning them on the beach. We fooled around with the fish for a while till T.T got himself cut up. It was very relaxing, sitting there listening to the waves crashing and the wind blowing but we had to leave a little early because of the gathering clouds. Didn’t manage to beat the rain anyway and ended up wet. It’s back to the hospital for us, and a restless night in anticipation of Chilika.
p.s: herea lion, there a lion everywhere a lion. The one thing Berhampur has a lot of is temples and every one of them has two lions guarding the entrance – stone ones of course. Learnt that the fishermen use squid as bait. Saw some of the locals at their craft, making wicker baskets and hats of cane – very cheap and very chic.

Day 9: Sunday March 13th
Distance covered 100
Total distance 1775

“the bird does not sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song”

The day gone by on my mind, pen in my hand, wind in my eyes and the shimmering Chilika lake in my eyes – the perfect setting to put pen to paper. The day began later than planned, as usual and it was a nice ride to Rhamba once we got going. Rambha is a beautiful resort area at one end of Chilika but Barkul s further 40 km along the lake is much prettier and more popular. The lake is immense and you wouldn’t be the first person mistaking it for a sea. The highlight of the lake is the boat ride to different islands located far from land. The most interesting one is the ride to Nalabana that is renowned for its variety of exotic migratory birds. We reached late in the afternoon so had to settle for a motorboat ride to Kalijai, an island with a temple 12 miles from shore. We did see a lot of birds, they were all crows but in this spectacular setting even they can pass off as more exciting creatures if only they’d learn to shut up. By the way Chilika is the largest salt-water lake in Asia with about 250 species of birds. From one exotic temple location to another, temples in India are located at the wildest places. This was Naraini a Durga temple located in the midst of a forest on the hills surrounding Chilika. A short trek from the temple took us atop the hill from where we took in a marvelous sunset. Even on the trek there was traffic and we had to step off the path to give way to a strutting languor. We are spending the night at OTDC guesthouse. On showing him our papers the manager said, “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry”, now that has me really worried. Sitting here on the balcony overlooking the lake I am eagerly awaiting the morrow when I hope to spend some time with my feathered friends.
We also caught sight of a unique funeral procession wherein the body was being carried on a throne dressed in all it livery.
The boat rides come in all shapes and costs from shikaras with bamboo poles to motorboats for those with places to go. The islands offer caves, birds and swimming opportunities though we are yet to come across any of them.

Day 10: Monday March 14th
Distance covered 163 km
Total distance 1938 km

“genius may have its limitations but stupidity is not thus handicapped”- Lord, what fools these mortals be.

Our day began with a beautiful sunrise over Chilika lake and for once we didn’t return to our beds – a few hours later I was wishing I had. The sun’s first rays also brought with it an offer from a fisherman to row us to Nalabani Island supposedly a bird paradise for Rs 300 and we jumped at it. Our good Samaritan Rastafarian fisherman – who I thought was slightly eccentric but turned out to be completely insane, informed us it would be an hour each way plus whatever amount of time we spend there. We should have seen the boat first. It was a small, not too safe looking thing and stupid that we were we didn’t think too much off it. It was hen he asked me to hold up two bamboo poles to which was attached the sail (a tarpaulin sheet which looked like cheese with all those holes) that I began to have doubts but by then it was too late and off we went. Off being the operative word. Something else was bothering me but I couldn’t put a finger on it. The sail didn’t work out too well though, for one there was no wind and secondly the poles wouldn’t stay up. What really got the alarm bells ringing was when an hour later I could no longer see our cottage but neither could I see Nalabana. The clear water, thousands of ducks and a weird period when it felt like we were entering a fog-real trippy, kept us busy. To get us really active the boat sprung a leak and we sweated it out bailing water. That’s when it struck me – we had no canopy. We were beginning to burn up and Nalabana was nowhere in sight yet. We had less than half the bottle of water and decided to conserve. 3 hours after the voyage had begun we began to see a small speck slowly growing across the horizon. What suddenly seemed very scary was the impending ride back. Then I watched in shock as Mr. Rasta drank up most of our water and the rest was spilling down his beard. We then reached a group of four fishing boats fitted with motorboats and canopies. They invited us for lunch and served us special crab curry on special steel plates – really coo land really kind. After a bit of haggling we convinced one of them to take us back to shore for Rs. 350. Not that we didn’t like Rasta, he was cool in his own weird way but we didn’t have another 5 hours to spare. Taking a ride on the new boat we finally made Nalabani and got to see some birds. Though there weren’t that many species around (it wasn’t the season) what we saw was quite entertaining – ducks running on water like ‘limu bai’ before taking off and gulls show boating for us with nose dives into the water right in front of our path. On the whole it was a tiring but fun experience, which shouldn’t deter you because a trip to Chilika is a must – just find the right boat. We then rode on towards Banapur a small dirty town with a scattering of crumbling buildings and carvings on houses – reminders from the past of a bygone era of Sarlodvaha dynasty. The first and more artistic of the two temples was the “Dakshya Prajapath” with some amazingly intricate relief work covering the entire gopuram. But more entertaining was a little boy who managed to catch 7 fish in a matter of minutes using just a stick and twine with wheat as bait – this in spite of spending most of the time trying to teach the hopelessly unsuccessful T.T to snap one. From here we moved on to the time-honored temple of Goddess Bhagabati and the most disheartening experience of the journey so far. I was warned that people of the interior regions may be difficult and rude but when the poojaris of temples begin to harass you like common thugs it becomes shocking. I am not an extremely religious but I have always found a sense of peace, serenity and a sense of safety in places of worship but that feeling just took a serious battering. Never before have I come to a temple where the ‘poojari’ so blatantly demands money from the ‘prasad’ to the ‘aarati’. It is the tone, which is really scary because it the threat implied is very real. I left the place deeply disturbed. Several hours and even more railway crossings later we reached HariHarananda Gurukul Ashram 25 km from Konark. Tomorrow would bring with it, not only the sun but also his temple.

Day 11: Tuesday, 15th March
Distance covered 90 km
Total distance 2028 km

“the sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
shorter of breath and one day closer to death”

The day began with a walk around the ashram. It is a very peaceful place with trees, ponds, temples and a lot of silence but the lure of Konark was too strong and we didn’t linger around. The road to Konark is simply superb and freshly laid. As for the surroundings – well, there was sand and we’re on the coast so it’s a beach but then there are also a lot of trees so it’s a forest hence I dub it the beach forest. When I first caught sight of the beach I was amazed at how much it looked like a work of art, with a beautiful merging of the blue sky and blue water with light brown sand spread out in front. I immediately parked Kaya and ran onto the beach. A moment later I was wishing I hadn’t. The beach was like a desecrated graveyard with scores of dead turtles washed ashore along the entire length. The sight moved me to tears and we later discovered that the fishing boats killed them. I can’t understand why the authorities can’t do more than write fucking numbers on the shells. I had to get out of there and fast.
There are a few instants in life when words completely fail you and try as I may I will never be able to justify the majestic splendor of the Sun Temple complex. I have seen quite a few temples in my time but have never witnessed anything so spectacular in size, intricacy and genius. The entire temple dedicated to the sun god and built like a 24 wheeled chariot drawn by seven horses is resplendent with carvings and the word intricate falls way short of the mark. We found a very interesting guide who insisted on narrating the entire history before letting us see the temple. I won’t go into the details but anybody who likes art and history should read about it – there are so many mathematical, astrological and architectural implications and each minute carving has significance. The guide very apologetically “please you make me sorry for telling” gave us the juicier information on the different sexual positions, polygamy, orgy, kissing, licking, dancing, loving – his words exactly. The walls are covered with images of a sexual nature other than dances and scenes from religion. One thing though, either they got the anatomy wrong or the men were very well endowed back then. The wheels depict the calendar and time. We actually tried to tell the time and it worked perfectly. I wont go any further because you have to see the place to understand it. Go when it is not hot, spend the entire day and you will still leave the place unsatisfied and very in awe. We rode on to Puri, stopping at the beautiful beach near Baligai with sandbars, lagoons and backwaters flowing in. Perfect for swimming. The Puri Jagannath temple is one of the most celebrated religious sites in India. The temple is enclosed within a fort like wall and is guarded like one as well. Photography is strictly prohibited hence unlike at Konark I don’t even have visual help to capture what my words will surely fail to. As with all important pilgrimage centers the place is crowded, dirty and the original structures tampered with. The monolithic pillar at the entrance is covered in gaudy colored cloth and is completely concealed. The entrance to the complex, built at a much later date with a few slabs actually lifted from Konark pales in comparison to the original structures. The actual gopuram is enormous, towering over you with larger than life statues staring down as you gaze at them in awe. The entire structure is covered in relief work with some huge carvings to culminate the effect. The complex houses a number of smaller but no less artistic sanctums. The images of the two Gods and one Goddess are made of wood and there are numerous myths surrounding it. The downside of it was a repetition of yesterdays experience with the poojaris. The temple was exorbitantly commercial and I could see the greed written all over their faces. The poojaris were fighting amongst themselves violently and abusively for all to see and hear. The harassment for money was constant. The entire scene is depressing and I am getting disillusioned about the religious feel of Orissa. We leave for Bhubaneswar tomorrow on what is another pilgrimage and I am beginning to dread it because it has shaken the core, my belief in the temple as a peaceful sanctity.

Day 12: Wednesday, March 16th
Distance covered 121
Total distance 2149

“ We are not spiritual beings on a human journey. We are human beings on a spiritual journey.”

The day began with a bit of meditation and an introduction to Kriya Yoga – it’s supposed to help you lose your mind. After forgetting whatever it is that we were trying to remember to forget we left the ashram for Bhubaneswar. Over the last ten days we had crossed innumerable dried up rivers but now all that is water under the bridge literally speaking. If there is one thing in Orissa that can compete with temples in sheer numbers it is ponds. There are beautiful ponds covered in violet flowers or shimmering in the light every few meters along the road and surrounded by a lush green carpet swaying in the gentle breeze. There is so much water all around it is almost like Mother Nature showing off a bit.
Our first stop was the Shanti Stupa at Dhouli, a Buddhist structure dedicated by the Chinese. Standing there atop the hill from where Ashoka once directed the great Kalinga war that bled the earth and turned the river red you can actually get a taste of history. Further down is Ashoka’s famous remorse filled edict but the eroded rock does not have the same thought provoking effect.
Take me down to the temple city, where the gopuram is big and the carvings are pretty.
(sing in tune to paradise city).
Bhubaneswar city boasts of close to 10,000 temples though if you ask me that’s a ridiculous number and nobody has the time or the inclination to visit all of them. The most important of them all is the Lingaraja temple and thankfully they let us take in the still camera. Instantly I was treated to a sight far beyond my wildest imagination. I went inside expecting to see one giant temple but instead was confronted by a whole series of them ranging in sizes and intricacy. The entire complex forms a series of temples dedicated to different forms, dominated by a gigantic central temple representing the culmination of Orissan architecture. The temple carries some gigantic statues surrounded by a myriad of smaller panels. The sanctum sanctorum under the Gopuram houses the Shiva lingam structure without the lingam and only the base.
But my disillusionment with the conduct of the authorities continued as the money minded poojari’s kept hassling people for money. Most pilgrims set out with only two things of value – their life’s savings and a lifetime of beliefs. And if you steal both of them then what are they left with? It gives me no joy in saying this but these guys are nothing but a bunch of thugs. Another equally if not worse thing is the regulation that only Hindus are allowed. I noticed this at both Puri Jagganath and Lingaraj temples and I find it shocking because I have not come across discrimination at a temple before.
That entirely aside the temple is a marvel and a must see. Bhubaneswar deserves an entire days attention and you may just about be able to cover the important temples. The one deterrent though is that they continue in the same vein and could lead to an overdose. All said and done the must see structures are the Rajarani, Mukteswar and Parmeswara temples which are all purely historic in nature.
One other thing people traveling to Orissa have to be careful about is the language. Even the most simple word is pronounced in such a way that it sounds like greek and latin and that’s if you are lucky, usually it sounds like gibberish or an abuse – even English gets distorted, for example “be bill be bery hoppy to serb you bisky on beranda”. Now say that bery fast and swallow half the vowels because of the pan in your mouth. Go figure.
We have to figure an easier way to do our sightseeing. Right now if our baggage is strapped on to the bikes when we visit any place then one person goes in first and the other follows after his return. This way we are taking twice as long for each place but I don’t see any other option on days that we are on the move. It’s very annoying and boring
Instead of spending the night at Bhubaneswar we decided to move on to Cuttack. The only thing of any significance here is the Chandi Mandir – nothing special at all and the Barabati fort – of which nothing remains other than the entrance arch and the moat. I do not know whether to head for Hirakund now or visit it at a later stage and the other destinations are also scattered haphazardly all around the place, and so spending the night at the house of an old neighbor (1981) I am not really sure where the road will lead me.

Day 13: Thursday, March 17
Distance covered 248 km
Total distance 2397 km

“ faith can not only move mountains but create palaces out of them”

We rode close to 150 km today and ended up where we started. We didn’t get lost or anything, with Cuttack as our base we visited a lot of places around. We started of by visiting Naraja (20 km) – I have no idea why it is spelt like that when not a single person here pronounces it that way. Almost the entire ride was along a wide fast flowing canal. Naraja is on the confluence of two rivers and the surging waters are supposedly very exciting but since we were approaching summer there wasn’t much water. From Naraja we rode 30 km to Khandagiri and Udaigiri caves. They are a series of rock cut Buddhist monasteries on two overlooking hills. It was a union of a simple life with an artistic wealth, which was quite fascinating. I find the entire lifestyle and the feel of the place very relaxing. An army of well-mannered langoors inhabits the hills. They very politely tug at your pant and expect you to give them whatever it is that you are eating and their charm only makes you buy them some more food, the sly bastards. After this entertaining experience we backtracked past Cuttack to Chhatia where there is absolutely nothing but a semblance of a wall and then to Chandikhol and Mahavinayak two small temples of no artistic importance and with my distaste for the prevalent scene here I decided to avoid going into the inner chambers.
After what turned out to be a feast of a lunch for Rs. 48 only we continued our ride by heading for Lalitgiri-Udaigiri-Ramgiri, three picturesque hills housing Buddhist excavations. At Udaigiri the work had just begun and there were very few structures properly restored. The site of the excavations is very large and the find looks extremely promising. There is one large Buddha statue and an extremely ornate doorway that have been completely restored. Photography was not allowed. I went up to the manager to request permission after stating my cause. He asked me to show my authorization papers, unfortunately I wasn’t carrying them on me. He told me to go bring them and when I asked him if he would then let me take photographs, he very flatly said no. Then why on earth did he want me to get the papers, go figure. The restorations at Ratnagiri are more complete and the findings quite impressive. There are a few huge Stupas, scores of carved slabs ranging from Bhodisatavas to Buddha heads. There is one extremely large hall with a number of rooms. The problem is there are no knowledgeable people to help you. Being surrounded by relics from the past, whispering about glories gone by has always filled me with a kind of reverence and pride. Over the last few days I have been witness no many of these glories. How do you do justice to them? I have always left them with a feeling that I haven’t paid my due respect. Tomorrow we move on from the historical tour and into the jaws of the crocodile.

Day 14: Friday, March 18th
Distance covered 255 km
Total distance 2651 km

“Maps and calendars are for careful people not passionate ones”

Today we boldly went where no map has gone before. Having finally decided to skip the Hirakund sector for the time being we rerouted our journey by following the coast to Chandipur beach with a stop over at Bheetarkanika giving me a chance to play crocodile Dundee – at least that’s what I had hoped. Judging by the map one would think once we crossed Kendraprada, Bheetarkanika would be around the corner. Well it was a corner that led us straight off the map, literally speaking. To start with it was a road that would have felt at home in no mans land and after a while even the semblance of a road disappeared leaving us with a backbreaking bike shattering road to nowhere. The upside, we were getting a glimpse of villages that modernization had passed by and a style of life that takes you back in time. The settlements consisted of mud or thatched huts amongst coconut groves with small pools of water that supported their existence in more ways than one. The only sign of progress a few electric lines and the occasional cycle. These rustic villages form the gateway to the swampland of Bheetarkanika, which turned out to be mismanaged, neglected, and the worse for wear. There was no body there with any knowledge about the park or with any tourist information on how the park should be enjoyed. What little there was to see was under captive and there didn’t seem to be much chance of spotting any in the wild. If properly maintained it would make a true wilderness experience but disappointed and forlorn I didn’t see much point in hanging around there and decided to head on to Chandipur. A few bumpy kilometers later for the second time on our journey the trail suddenly ended. Our options- turn around or take another boat ride. The Bay of Bengal it was, after all we wanted to take the road less taken or in this case the boat less taken. We had an hour to kill but it gave us the opportunity to interact with the people. For the last 10 day Orissa has been an absolute treat from the people to the cuisine. Where ever we go Kaya attracts a lot of attention, though no one gives us a second look. Backpacking and riding must be an unseen phenomenon because we are surrounded by onlookers, all of them curious and friendly but never mistrustful. They are excited when we tell them about our expedition and love it when we mention places they know of, wishing us luck and god speed. Just their reaction and enthusiasm makes our venture a success and is enough fuel to keep us going for a long time. The reaction from rural India has been beyond my wildest imagination. Today was no different. A crowd gathered around her in admiration and we found ourselves repeating our story for the umpteenth time. In between all this we were interrupted when a man bitten by a snake had to be taken by boat to the nearest hospital. He was already looking quite sick and I wonder how it all turned out. The boat ride once it began was very enjoyable. Initially I had my doubts as to how they were going to get the bike onto the vessel and my heart was in my mouth but they managed it with simple ingenuity and brute strength. Once on the other side the road was, well it was good and we completed a rapid fire 100 km to Balasore – sore balls and all, before stopping at a dhaba for dinner. The dhaba also turned out to be a Ganja bar with the owner also dealing in weed. He informed us that it was common in Orissa and sold easily if not openly. On reaching Chandipur we checked into the OTDC guesthouse where they promised us a good discount and after dumping our luggage took a moonlit walk along the beach. Though with T.T as my companion it doesn’t make a very romantic picture. What was to be a simple walk on the beach left me feeling disoriented, confused and wondering if I was on the right planet. In the darkness we stood upon the high sand dunes and gazed upon the widest coast with the ocean glittering way beyond. We decided to head to the water and once you are off the sand dunes the ground feels more like a dried up marsh than a sandy beach. We walked a while before realizing that the water was further than we thought though the reflections seemed quite near. Suddenly we found ourselves walking on wet mud with no sign of the ocean as yet. That’s when what I had read about Chandipur came to me in a flash – what makes it so spectacular is that the waters recede up to 5 km from the shore each day. Splish-splashing our way back to the room I could only imagine what the tied would bring in with it at dawn.

Day 15: Saturday, March 19th
Distance covered 340 km
Total distance 2991 km

"Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt."

I cannot explain why I feel the way I do but I awoke this morning with a sense of doom and gnawing despair. I began to doubt the rationality of what I had set out to accomplish and its importance. What was the price to be paid and what is the reward. How can there be passion without belief and for the first time I have doubted my cause. The very thought of not wanting to go on has shaken me to the core but how does one control runaway emotions. It is time for me to contemplate.
It was with a heavy heart that I took in the sunrise at Chandipur and the mysteries of the previous night were slowly revealed. The waters recede and come in so far that you can walk a few km with the waters only reaching your ankles. The sky was dark and cloudy mirroring my mood but when the sun managed to penetrate the veil the sky and the sea were lit up in an orange glow that would make a dead man hold his breath if only he was breathing in the first place but then he wouldn’t be dead so this anagram makes no sense. What I’m trying to say is that it was a truly spectacular sight that actually uplifted my mood quite a bit. The ocean exposed itself in hues of orange and gray and what a revelation it was with the waters bringing in a whole range of sea life in the shallow waters – fish, anemone, crabs and snails. My heart wasn’t really in it so I just sat there in quiet thought with the waters gently caressing me. T.T on the other hand got upto his usual mischief and was stung by one of the jelly fish for his troubles. He looked like he had been mud wrestling but it was just another of his beauty treatments – a nice mud bath. Having got a beautiful picture of Chandipur at both tides we chose to ride on to Simlipal National Park but never made it. In my terrible mood I completely ignored Kaya’s cries for help and 50km into the journey her chain snapped, tearing through the chain guard. It was luck that we had just stopped to ask for directions and were barely moving when it happened. The bike came to a jarring halt and the noise filled me with painful regret at having ignored her. I didn’t have a lock pin that was damaged so after a 4-hour layoff and a temporary solution I decided not to push her anymore, so we headed for Kolkata and a nice servicing. The ride was as bad as the rest of the day. Like they say when it rains it pours – literally. The darkness, rain, bad patches of road, dangerous areas and a stream of lorries blinding you with their high beams made it a nerve wracking ride. With lightning leading the way and rain threatening we had another worry other than the dacoit infested forest we were crossing. On a final note about a fucked up day there are just way too many lorries on this road. By the time we reached Kolkata and checked into the IIM hostel I only wanted to crawl up in bed and make the disturbing thoughts disappear.

Kaya Dreams begins

2005-03-13T10:28:00.000-08:00

The last few days have been an emotional roller coaster with the enthusiasm levels going up and down like a see saw. I keep wondering what exactly it is that we are going to achieve and if it makes a difference, the roads make you wince, the fatigue makes you want to give up and then there is always the betrayal of the mind, whispering thoughts of failure and the futility of a mission without a future. You may think it a little too early in the tale for such thoughts but it is now that they have to be banished for later on you cross a point of no return. At the end of the day though, none of it matters for the passion still burns as brightly as ever before. For those of you who read my introduction and for some inexplicable reason actually liked it, the rest of my story is going to be very simple because I have neither the time nor the energy to plagiarize or dream up any good prose.But I do have a tale to tell and many miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

Day 1: Saturday 5th March
Distance 300 km; total distance 300 km
Meter reading: 24,575 – 24,876

I started my journey alone…my riding partner decided not to show up. After a sleepless night, the chaos of the morning wasn’t what the doctor prescribed. Ah! The fringe benefits of having politicians over- the security actually insisted on un-strapping my luggage and searching it. Wonder what confused them; maybe they mistook my sleeping bag for a WMD and the foot pumps for a detonating device. With all the photographs to betaken and formalities completed I barely had the time to bid everyone a proper farewell and added to that was the worry of my missing companion.

The time – 8pm, photo-shoot – completed, dignitaries – present, crowds – present, press – present, chief guest – also present, Amit (me) – present, T.T,…T.T – absent? 3 meters and 5 seconds after the flag off he shows up with a sheepish grin on his face. I envy the bastard; he escaped all the bull shit. A million good byes and then some more before we were finally off escorted by a bevy of beautiful girls – the two wheeled kind that never complain. It was better than any 21-gun salute and definitely louder. A brisk and uneventful 3 hours later we were at Karimnagar and there we parted ways, our friends heading home and we towards…

The sleepless nights and the aftermath of the euphoria began to tell and the dull, monotonous ride sent my mind into overdrive, which is never a good sign. That’s when things got interesting, very interesting, which doesn’t necessarily mean a good thing. As you enter Chinnur what had till then been a good road suddenly became a spine-shattering nightmare that was more crater and less road. 22 km and a sore ass later the road (if you can call it that) the road doesn’t get ant better…it just ceases to exist.

Every damn map shows a brilliant NH right through to Chhattisgarh. What none of them bothered to mention was that the road was not yet complete. Between us and the continuation of our road flowed the river Vaishnavi, and how do we get to the other side? Why, by lifting the bike on to a boat of course. Wading up to our knees we lifted Kaya onto the boat. Being rowed across the river as the sun slowly started to disappeared in shades of pink and orange, with the helpful locals grinning at us and Kaya precariously positioned on a very suspicious looking boat I was reminded of what the journey was all about and for the first time in days I felt a sense peace.

After somehow getting the bike across we are gleefully informed that there was another river to be crossed. Destined to spend the night at Sironcha we were directed towards a guest house. It turned out to be a beautiful old govt. guesthouse with a high ceiling and enormous rooms. Situated atop a dark hill overlooking the entire town it had a touch of Transylvania. I had been very keen to cross the state border on day 1 and was delighted to find out that we had, though not into Chhattisgarh as planned but into Maharashtra. And the next river crossing would take us across to Chhattisgarh. How cool is that? Except for confusion over language things went off without a hitch.

Dinner consisting of fresh catch from the river was delicious and satisfying. As the sun set on this first chapter I can look back on a great day and look forward to the next river crossing.

Day 2: Sunday March 6th,

Distance 291km, total distance 591 km
Meter reading 25,166

We bounced, then bounced some more. Crossed a river and then bounced again. The morning began with a breath of crisp clean air from the terrace of the guesthouse overlooking the river and the town. The next 4 hours were spent negotiating the most horrid 50km ever ridden on through a forest eerie in its stillness. The ride across the river into Chhattisgarh went off smoothly and was a blessed relief. All that can be said of the road on the other side is ‘at least they have made an attempt’. Compared to what we’ve just been through it’s a runway albeit one that even the craziest pilot would avoid, with the capacity to maim and destroy your bike and you. The landscape though is quite fascinating with endless stretches of forest s with colorful and misshapen trees. You can ride forever without encountering any sign of civilization. Only on completing our journey did we learn that we had just ridden through the hub of Naxalite activity. By the time we reached Jagdalpur my ass felt like a football that had just been through a very hard fought premier league game.

Word of advice” DO NOT TAKE THIS ROUTE”.

One good thing, we tested the bike just about on any crap that can be thrown at us and she came out of it a-okay.

Day 3: Monday March 7th

Distance 234 km, total distance 825 km
Meter reading 25,400

Wow! What a ride the last three hours on the bike have been absolutely blissful except for one potentially disastrous situation. But I’m getting way ahead of myself so let me turn the wheels back a little bit. We set of later than we expected, as usual, but the 45 km ride to Chitrakot was not bad at all. My initial reaction was not to the waterfall but the gorge with its deeply scarred and torn face looming over a huge green pool of gently flowing water.

More than its height it is the width of the falls that is awe inspiring, though because of the season we didn’t get to see the best of her. Walk down to the beach and there is a stretch of powdered sand, ideal for camping along the river. You can take a fun bout ride across to the other bank or for the braver souls there’s always stepping-stones. Remove your shoes me hardies, trust me you are definitely going to fall, I learnt it the hard and wet way. What is really captivating about the place is its wild untamed look. The place is teeming with coves and niches dedicated to the Lord Shiva and you can spot the ‘Babas’ and the disciples lighting up their chillams. The top of the falls were home to a myriad of Babas, each located at a more interesting site than the other- in caves, behind waterfalls and on the cliff edge. One weird sight were these two trees infested with gigantic bats.

After lunch we took a ride into Jagdalpur town to visit the Bastar palace and the Danteswari temple. The former is painted a ghastly blue and is now a college. Neither was very interesting. We decided to continue our journey onwards and headed for Koraput. Not knowing jack about Orissa I was a little apprehensive about the roads but the ride was absolutely awesome and a hint of the great things to come. Entering into Orissa the roads were wide with open expanses on both sides that slowly led to the ghats of Koraput - a smooth road with winding turns and the temperature steadily dropping. It was a dark moonless, star studded night and the glimpses of the trees and the rising rock face, the shimmering water mirroring the lights of the dam, were all indications of what was going to be a spectacular daytime sight. For a few moments though we had a real scare when T.T declared we had a flat in the middle of the climb. Luckily it turned out to be a false alarm and we made it to the HAL guesthouse. I lie in bed as I write this, eagerly awaiting a beautiful new dawn.

Day 4: Tuesday March 8th
Distance 137 km, total distance 962 km
Meter reading 25,537

I opened my eyes to the resurrection of day in a whole new light. The orange sun slowly rose over the distant range of hills, revealing the lush landscape. After such a breath taking awakening I just had to go back to sleep. The ride began only around noon and it’s pretty much all we did – at a very leisurely pace I must add since we covered only about 130 km. the road wasn’t to be blamed it was the scenery. Endless stretches of rolling hills greet you as you come out of the bends, with only a few tribal villages to remind you of mankind. We stopped at every photo opportunity and even found time for monkeying around on trees.

A.P Rocks! The road becomes absolutely brilliant the instant you cross the border on to the A.P side. It is a picturesque ride through Araku with a wide snaking road around the hill winding its way down. This enchanting valley has a beautiful guesthouse complete with swimming pool and gym. We continued our journey down the hill to Tyda Jungle camp, another APTDC guesthouse where they were kind enough to provide us with free acco on showing our authorization. The acco consisted of beautiful log cabins with campfire and Dhimsa Tribal Dance. Spent some time sitting on a ‘machan’ and listening to the sounds of the jungle as it came alive in the night.

Day 5: Wednesday March 9th

Distance 126 km, total distance 1088 km
Meter reading 25,663

It was a day of over expectations and disappointments. What was meant to be a nice jungle trek turned out to be a walk in the park literally speaking, climbing from one part of the highway and ending up at another constantly accompanied by the traffic sound. The trek was followed by a visit to Bora caves. The caves are awe inspiring in size having an enormous yawning mouth with stalactite fangs waiting to snap shut. The cave winds inwards into a central chamber with its ceiling looming several meters above our heads and a skylight at the top. The walls are covered with a million years of the earth’s tears solidifying into gothic spectacles. The ride from Bora to Vizag was a breeze without a single bump on the four-lane highway- didn’t have to break once the entire journey. We checked into the Yatri Nivas right opposite the beach again compliments of APTDC. A walk on the beach was the real shocker because I really couldn’t see much beach with all the human filth lying around from food and plastic to his own shit. The beach was a total disappointment and I sat there ruefully watching the fishermen sail out to sea preparing myself for a better tomorrow.

A Note of thanx

2005-03-05T02:52:00.000-08:00

As I utter my gratitude, I must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words but to live by them. J.F.K adaptation

Is it really possible to express my gratitude through penned thoughts or is it just my pride, which leads me to believe that words will suffice. Will a ‘thank you’ fill the void at home? Will a ‘smile’ ease my family’s worries? Will a ‘cheers dude’ equate to my friends time and effort? It won’t. But at this crossroad in life words are all I have. Having just brilliantly and wisely stated the futility of this exercise I must unfortunately do exactly that. If only to acknowledge that this expedition would not have happened without them.

This is an idea that was conceived among friends so let me begin with them

Hashim Qayoom – the captain, this is as much his dream as it is mine and my one regret as I leave is his absence
Abbas Ali – his enthusiasm and patience has kept me from going off the wall on more occasions than he realizes
Amrit and Deepa – two mentally imbalanced cousins who’ve supported us all the way
Kadambari – my biggest distraction and my lucky charm
Sunnet Kamath – for getting me off my zoned ass and on to the open roads

While the idea may have been conceived among friends it was given form, soul and life by my family. Having taken my family for granted over the years, before coming back into the fold I was hesitant to even ask for help. Luckily I didn’t have to. Their support and encouragement from the moment they heard has been quite simply, overwhelming. The whole blood is thicker than water kind of started making sense.

My cousins, too many to name but you know who you are. It may not show but your faith in me fills me with sorrow and pride - the former for all my failures and the latter for a chance to make amend.
My relatives who in their heart think I’m crazy but that hasn’t stopped them from lending a helping hand
My parents – a million years would be insufficient to repay my parents for all they have done for me. I have not been a good son yet they have never denied me, and as I set out on a journey that fills their life with anxiety their time is spent in filling mine with joy. I can never thank you enough; instead I’ll thank my stars for having you.

article in The Hindu

2005-03-02T00:22:00.000-08:00

never thought i'd see my ugly mug in the papers but nightmares are a fact. if anybody wants to see what the wise have to say about this journey log on to
http://www.hindu.com/thehindu/mp/2005/02/24/hydbindx.htm

i'm on the left with the long hair and the extravagant gesture, the person on the right who looks like he's having an epeliptic fit is T.T

you'd think they would have put a better snap but i guess when the subject is ugly you cant really blame the photographer

who is kaya

2005-03-01T00:05:00.000-08:00

kaya put simply is my soul on two wheels
i hope this doesn't ditter all the bullet fans (i should know, i'm one of them) but i'm not doing this on a bullet, i repeat don't let it dilute your interest because this journey is not about a bike but about biking
kaya is my Pulsar 180 and she's definitely female - whoever thought of the Pulsar tagline has either never ridden a bike or he's completely gay.
i had always wanted a Bullet but for numerous reasons (spelt Dad) i ended up buying Kaya and i haven't looked back since then. in the three years i've been riding her she's never given me reason to complain and at the junction where i had to make my choice of companion i had no seond thoughts.
the dream was born on her and on her it shall be realised

D-Day - MARCH 5th

2005-02-28T23:16:00.000-08:00

A year of hard work and endless frustrations later things have finally fallen into place, and what started off as a dream is now so real I can savor its every essence. Thrice I’ve drawn up my route, and thrice I’ve seen it wandering lost and finally disappearing into the dark jungles of corporate approvals, paperwork and bureaucracy. Shafts of light and rays of hope occasionally penetrate even the darkest forests, and following them I am back along the path of the beam.

I have approached a lot of people with my idea, there are those who couldn’t see beyond the next buck, there are those who wished my name were Shahrukh Khan, and then there were those who couldn’t give a damn what my name was. This venture was never about money and never will be. It is about passion, discovery and the will to do the undone. It is a mission to amaze and inspire. It is my homage to India and the spirit of adventure. There are those who believed and thus the opening chapter can soon be written.

Incredible India – under India Tourism is helping me with accommodation wherever possible, easy access to save time and special permissions where required.

Bharat Petroleum – covering my entire fuel expenses

Reliance Infocomm – covering my communication expenses

Karvy Consultancy – contribution of Rs. 25,000

The equipment has come in from far and wide, each from a different benefactor. Kaya has undergone her final facelift and is ready to roar. The newspapers have carried their articles to promote us, and with the confirmation of the corporate support and contribution all that remains is for the flag to be waved.

The engine is revving, the heart is pounding and on the 5th of March, presided by the Commissioner of Tourism Mr. Anjaneylu, the Honorable Minister J.C Diwakar Reddy will flag us off as we head out towards our destiny…and the road less taken.

my gratitude for your interest dear reader

2005-02-28T22:57:00.000-08:00

before i continue my story i have to thank the people who have read my article and especially those who have taken the time to post their comments.
i am overwhelmed by the willingness of individuals to support this venture
this was never a money making venture so people always asked me how i'd judge my success
my answer to that is quite straightforward, my success is based on the number of people who are inspired by this story, who read about it and associate with it, and most importantly by the number of people who set out on their own path
for all those who have offered to help, the greatest gift would be your support in promoting this blog so that more people read about it but most importantly for you to maybe join me at some stage of my journey - if i can get even a few people to do that then i have accomplished all that i set out to do.
i promise to update this journal as often as possible during my journey so please keep reading
i hope i can share more than just my memories with you dear reader
thank you once again

2005-02-18T02:59:00.000-08:00

the route across india - starting hyderabad (red dot) follow the route starting with green line

a dream about to be realised

2005-02-18T02:07:00.000-08:00

“one must desire something to be alive”

Kaya dreams is an obsession that has consumed every waking hour of the last two years of my life. It is the culmination of my passion for riding, and the love for my country, its culture, history and beauty. It is a journey of discovery, the discovery of my country and myself. It is an adventure that spans almost the entire country, taking me across 18 states, to 450 destinations, covering 40,000Km on a motorbike in less than a year. It is my road to fulfillment and maybe at least a postscript in history.

“ The path to our destination is not always a straight one. We go down the wrong road, we get lost, we get hurt. Maybe it doesn’t matter which road we embark on. Maybe what matters is that we embark.”

Hi! My name is Amit and my companions on this journey – T.T alias Sarvanan a.k.a Appu, my good friend and fellow dreamer, Kaya my soul on two wheels, and hopefully you. For the next year we are going to live by the road, carrying all our gear with us. No support team, no base camps and no turning back. As we journey to temples, forts, ruins, mountains, rivers, oceans, deserts and more. With India’s extreme temperatures, chaotic states and unforeseen accidents, I do not delude myself into believing it’s going to be easy and without hardships. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to complete it, but just the thought of a fraction of what India has to offer is exciting enough to put all qualms aside.

“ We must get beyond textbooks, go out into the bypaths… and tell the world glories of our journey”

There is a growing cult of tourers in India, both National and International, and India is a riders dream – dangerous yet peaceful, scary but breathtaking, unpredictable still comforting, the places spectacular and the people beautiful. Yet there is no exposure and promotion of these activities. Thus there are even larger sections of people who want to take up touring but are unaware and have their fears. For international tourists there is the general fear of an alien country and all the organized tours are ridiculously expensive. This journal is meant to be a honest record of my thoughts and emotions but more than that I wish it inspires more riders to explore India by refuting their fears and exposing them to the possibilities; to know the road ahead ask those coming back. I hope to open up the country for those who wish to follow after all it is the most economical, and the only way to experience India the way it was meant to be.

As I set out on this adventure I would like to take you with me and show you the magic of India. Happy Reading.

I haven’t a clue how my journey will end. But that’s all right. When you set out on a journey and night covers the road, you don’t conclude that the road has vanished.