Saturday, 18 June 2022

Candy Crush, Adsense and Blogging...

 Yes, it's been a long time since I have posted here. But with so many other avenues to make one's posts, and ideas public, and with fewer words, it isn't a wonder that my (and I am sure many of my ilk's) blog is languishing. I started this blog to write a bit, post some recipes, travel stories, any other thoughts I could spare, some rants etc. Done that to some extent but definitely not as much as I would have liked! Many resolutions have come and gone, so no point making any more!!!

Today's wake-up is because google Adsense came knocking at my door and promised to take away my privilege of using AdSense if I didn't get up and kicked about! So here goes...

But again what do i write? Is reaching 7700 levels in Candy Crush a worthier effort than blogging? or should I blog about it? All the coins I have been buying (shhhhhhh), all the hours I have been engaged in destroying those sweet harmless treacles! Did I say harmless? Right. Because sometimes at the end of the day my eyes don't go all blurry and I cant even read normal sized fonts right in front of my nose! 

Oh I can write about my new found, one year old passion. Paintings. I have painted some eyes since I started to write this blog. Actually painted 4 small paintings (so much for my commitment to blogging) in the last 4 -5 days. 10' by 12". Acrylic on canvas. I am getting the hang of acrylic. The last year has mostly been devoted to oil painting. But acrylic is so fast. What i found a trial initially, the quick drying, is turning out to be a boon, with lightning fast turnover! I have to buy some new fresh canvas soon! 

How many have I painted in the last year? 60? Maybe. At least! 

I will wind up my blogging for now. Like I said, since I started it, i have completed 4 paintings, run through a bad bout of flu, almost reached level 7800 in Candy time to find a fresh topic!

Monday, 26 July 2021

Brahmaputra - Deep and Immersive

 A few days back we had a most defining and immersive experience on a cruise on the Brahmaputra. This was my third (or fourth) cruise across the mighty river.

 We started from Guijjan, a small hamlet near Tinsukia, at 7 am, in a small boat. Our destination was an area called Maili in the upper reaches of Brahmaputra where some wild horses had been sighted by forest people. The journey was supposed to take 4 hours.

 During the rainy season, junglee horses move around, as their original settlement around the Dibru Saikhowa national park is flooded.  The Dibru Saikhowa is fed by the Brahmaputra and Lohit and Dibru and an interlaced galaxy of small and big tributaries. Our boatman informed us that we were going towards the Siang (or Dihang, pronounced as Dehing) River, another of those distributing and feeding tributaries that weave in and out of the main river.

It was mildly raining and the boat ride itself was a joy. The Rangagora tea estate to the left was one of the first sights on the ride. There had been reports of feral horses sighting there a few days ago, which brought the horses to our mind and so this trip. During heavy rains, the estate gets flooded and some portion of its bungalow stands knee deep in water.

The boat ride seemed to be through one of the last of the remaining pristine areas of the country, relatively wild and untouched. For miles there was just the flooded river banks, with many trees uprooted or submerged, miles of river and jungles on the side, with the drongos, babblers, sparrows, swallows, kingfishers keeping the boat company.

The feral horses are apparently descendants from horses used by Britishers during the WW2.  A few of them escaped and their tribe has grown in the past 80 years to almost 79 horses. Of course, as in any rare species in India, they are endangered, with poachers and hunters looking for them to sell them as race horses or to resort owners.

As we went on, we came to the Laika village. It is mostly inhabited by the Mishing tribe. The entire village is on stilts with willow fences separating the houses. The residents use the river for all their activities. Boats, kids, fishermen, bathers and just watchers thronged the bank. The kids were adept at rowing and could be seen on boats and on the muddy field beyond the bank, playing. The houses had goats, cows, vegetable patches and most importantly solar panels to provide the much-needed light at night to keep away wild animals.

Speaking of wild animals, we heard an interesting tale from one of our forest guards about an old lady who was settled in these riverine wilds. Her kids moved away as they grew older but she refused to budge from her home. She was eventually trampled by a herd of elephants while she slept. Whichever area looked a bit destroyed, like trampled grasses, broken poles, solar panels, you knew elephants had been there! And our guide helpfully informed us that people didn’t die from common diseases like diabetes or cancer here. I guess wild elephants and snakes took care to keep the population under control!

As we progressed on our way upstream, we came across a huge banyan tree inland where there was a forest camp and which is a favourite with trekkers. My husband had done some trekking there with a friend, in the dry season, some months earlier. It was huge and its canopy seemed to stretch on for acres!

In between there were forest watch towers and forest guard house boats, which accommodates around a dozen people, parked on the silty banks. One could see the silt and the bank falling off at many places and trees submerged in the partly flooded river. During full floods, the chapori (the riverine plain villages) are totally submerged and the inhabitants move to different areas, in fact they apparently move lowland as the silt gets deposited there!

We picked up a couple of fishermen who were walking upstream. They had their nets at a particular area, which apparently had some particular fish which sells at a huge premium in the market! Most locals moved around with a hatchet, to cut fishing ropes, brushes and bushes, I guess.

The boat got stuck at many beels (mud flats) and had to steered by hand many times. The flats were not visible in the flooded water. Our journey which was to take 4 hours finally ended up taking 5 hours!

Our biggest surprise was a couple of dolphins leaping up at us! We were totally unprepared to encounter the “Gangetic” dolphins which seemed to populate the area.

At 1 pm, after 5 hours of an eventful boatride we reached the Maili forest camp. The guards told us the horses had been sighted 2 days back. So we started on a trek in search of possible sighting of those elusive creatures. Along the way the couple of forest guards who had obligingly accompanied us enquired of fishermen about the possible whereabouts of the horses. After one hour of trekking through deceptive mud flats, brushes, fields, along the river bank, we reached a small hamlet. A couple of kids told us they had seen the horses in the morning at a distance, so we followed them for half a mile to the area they had last seen the elusive creatures. Obviously they were not waiting for us! We trekked back to the, desolate, two and a half cottage, hamlet and from there proceeded to the boat.

5 hours of boat journey and 2 hours (5 miles) of trekking gave us an inside look into the Brahmaputra in Upper Assam like no other! The return journey took just 3 hours as we were going downstream.

Mighty is just one small adjective for the river. It is definitely mighty. And not just in width, breadth and length. It supports a humungous biodiversity that includes natural forest reserves, rare birds and plants, settlements along its bank, livelihoods for people in three countries, tribes that make a living solely out of it, water to the plains, a plethora of sub terranean life including the edible fish that is the staple diet of people whose life it touches and beyond.

I have given some maps to show the location of the Dibru Saikhowa National Park and the place I am talking about.

Dibru Saikhowa Map

Image Source -

Image Source -

Thursday, 25 March 2021

A Bowl of Pakhala

Come March, the people of Odisha have to start battling the high and dry heat of an early summer that kind of side steps over what is supposed to be “Basanta Rutu” or Spring season; a season supposed to buffer the summer and be mild, but which slyly gives the state a miss. Summer is all of a sudden upon us, before we have even packed away our winter clothes. We start feeling the departure of winter when the vegetables, fresh beet and carrots and cauliflowers and laukis and peas suddenly start looking dry and withered, then one day suddenly lose their taste. Then comes the loo, the dry wind that the river bed brings in during the mid-day, that is suffocating and all pervasive. Suddenly the swarms of mosquitoes disappear and you know that the temperature is hovering around the 40s mark. But, the real indicator, that Summer is here? The Pakhala. The dish whose images have started doing the rounds of social media in recent years, and so much so, apparently, a day has been dedicated to it! (Whoever had heard of World Pakhala Day even 5 years back!)

Yes, the Pakhala truly heralds the coming of summer to Odisha. A dish, to quench thirst, egalitarian, all-inclusive and stubbornly resistant to change. It is also perhaps the only dish that people can digest in this small rice bowl of eastern India, during the hot season.

PakhalaThe Dish

What is a Pakhala? It is simply the leftover cooked rice dunked in water and taken the next day in its slightly fermented form. The fermentation gives it a kick and sour taste.  The daily wagers, the farmers who toil in the field, the working class, always in need of a fast nutritious dish, relish this simple unpretentious dish in the heat.  The basic Pakhala really doesn’t need much of an accompaniment, just some salt, maybe green chillies and some slices of raw onion. But the dish is equally appreciated across all sections of society. One can add on to the dish and make it as simple or as complicated or traditional as one wishes.

A typical family will have some pan fried vegetables and maybe a boiled potato to go with it. Fish fry, or a side of stir fried prawns is appreciated (most Odia side dishes are stir fried, shallow fried rather than deep fried).  “Badi”, the sun dried dumpling made from lentils, is another favourite accompaniment with the Pakhala. Fried bitter gourd or pumpkin flowers dipped in rice paste and shallow fried are popular anti pastos (or perhaps ante-pakhala?) before one consumes the main bowl.

Pakhala Revival

The timeless dish has had a revival in recent times, thanks to social media and the countless emigrated Odias rediscovering their roots through nostalgia. For people who went to school in the 70s and 80s, nothing completed a day better than to come to a bowl of “Pakhala” after a hot and dusty day at school.

However this acceptance of Pakhala as a regular mainstay of Odia cuisine was not very palatable even a few years back. I remember asking a friend outside Odisha whether they had pakhala at home and the defensive response was “maybe it is taken back in the villages, we don’t have it,"  immediately consigning it to a category as a dish for the rural poor. One cannot really blame the Odia “prabashis” for this type of sentiment. We have been categorized so long as an extremely poor state, that this dish kind of slammed the nail on the coffin of  “Odisha- a poor pakhala eating state”, hence perhaps leading to a reluctance to its acceptance as a proper State cuisine. At least till a few years back.

Thankfully, perhaps with the realization that Pakhala cannot be the worst thing to happen to us, has come an assertion and acceptance of our essential Odia-ness,  and acceptance of all our inherent culture, heritage, quirks, habits, dress codes, dishes, and the ubiquitous and all-encompassing Pakhala in all its glory.

#pakhala #worldpakhaladay

- Sm R

Tuesday, 2 February 2021

The Wonder That is Versailles - a Palace of Dreams

There are fewer things grander in European Architecture than the Palace at Versailles

The Hall of Mirrors, Palace of Versailles

Like Louis the XIV,s motto "nec pluribus impar", the Versailles Palace is more than a match for anything of the era. 

It fascinated me during my lectures on Landscape Architecture not just for its scale and grandeur, but also the ingenuity of some of the features. The kings of France took quite a bit of flak for the construction and maintenance of the Palace which eventually crippled their economy and lead to the French Revolution. But what a dream the Palace was! What started as a simple chateau and a Hunting Lodge in the forests for King Louis XIII, got transformed to one of the most grand Royal Courts in the world, that literally crippled a country in its maintenance. 

The Versailles Palace reinforced the glamour and lavish architecture inside and outside with the varied and colourful court life of the Royal entourage, the French Nobility and aristocracy. History notes numerous intrigues, secrets, treaties, scandals that lent colour to Versailles in the 17th and 18th century. All these have been graphically illustrated in many books and most recently the TV series "Versailles". 

 Louis the XIV, the Sun King,  improved upon the medieval chateaux he inherited from his father into a daunting and sumptuos Baroque residence and court that had around 2500 rooms and and a garden defying all expectations of grandeur..and profligacy. At it's busiest, the Palace had around 10000 people in it daily, occupied in various forms. For Louis the XIV, it was the Chateaux de Versailles that was the centre of the World. A palace to showcase and project his power, position and aura.

The gardens at Versailles were some of the most advanced for their age with never before seen features. The water parterres (large rectangular features of water body) were the highlights. They connected the various paths and reflected the various features, as well as the lit up the outside. If one stood at the Palace terrace, the line of vision would lead one through the orangery, many elaborately constructed fountains, sculptures, pyramids, a belvedere here, groves, there, to the large north and south water parterres.

Perhaps not satisfied with the crowd and his entire court at Versailles, King Louis XIV built another smaller (by Versailles standards) and a more private Palace 7kms to the west of Versailles, at Marly.  The Marly gardens featured some of the most unique hydraulic engineering seen at that age. 

Machine de Marly was a marvel of that time that was built to pump water from the Seine via aquaducts to the Gardens of Marly and Versailles. The complicated hydraulic system had fourteen gigantic wheels, initially operated manually, to haul water from the Seine, via 250 pumps. The water from Seine was directed  by well constructed dykes, and the water wheel transferred it to the aquaduct de Louveciennes, a series of basins, reservoirs, through some complex piping and machinery to eventually feed the water bodies at Versailles and Marly. 

The machine was however not sufficient to entirely feed the extensive water features of Versailles and Marly. It was considered to be extremely noisy as hundreds of workers operated it round the clock to keep it going! Even then it served Versailles for 133 years, before steam engines and other modifications took over.

Machine de Marly at Marly 
Vue de la Machine de Marly (1723) by Pierre-Denis Martin
 (Source - Wikimedia)

Elevation and perspective of the Machine de Marly (c. 1715) by Nicolas de Fer
 (Source - Wikimedia Commons)

By L.-A. Barbet - Les Grandes Eaux de Versailles, Public Domain,

Historians see Marly as a finished product as a result of all the experimentation on at Versailles! The Sun King was definitely one of those people who believed everything can be achieved, from the exquisite Hall of Mirrors where he held Court, to shifting his entire court to Versailles,  to having an exotic orangery and other marvels mimicking nature, to dragging water from the Seine to feed the numerous water features and magical gardens of the grand palace. 

To be able to dream, conceptualise and finally execute a marvel like the Palace at Versailles must have required quite a vision, and of course unlimited resources at command. Even though the subjects and courtiers of the Sun King and his descendents would have had every right to complain for the taxes, inconvenience, the world is still rich by Versailles.


- Sm R

Friday, 22 January 2021

Climbing Ben Nevis

 The morning of my third day at Fort William, I started for Ben Nevis. Ben Nevis is the highest peak in the British Isles and a favourite with trek lovers. It is a one day trek and one can easily reach the top if one plans accordingly. The walk from the B & B to the mountains was a distance of 3 kms. Not being an early waker, I reached the spot around 10 am. The beautiful walk had a curling field on the way. Curling was a popular old sport in the highlands which combined the raw strength of the Highlanders with strategy and skills. One has to slide huge round stones from one end of the play area to the other to reach its destination. It is called curling as the stones take a curvilinear path to reach the circle at the other end!

Curling Field, Ben Nevis

Reaching the foothills of the Nevis opened up a sight of a series of hills so breathtaking in beauty as only something so far up on the hemisphere can have. A stream bubbled along the foothills (River Nevis actually) and one had to cross it on a quaint wooden bridge. Then one had to climb up the stiles which lead to a paddocked field with sheep. Someone from the hot dusty tropical climate of coastal India could entirely appreciate the atmosphere of the place, and I was caught many a times just standing around and gazing. The climb was along a series of steps cut into the hills, and was quite unlike another climb I had done the previous year at Mt. Kinabalu. Unlike Mt Kinabalu, it was a raw climb, not too touristy, no porters or sitouts, or rope guides along the way. Even guide rails were missing at most places. 

I came across quite a number of interesting people along the way. An elderly Indian gentleman, who stayed in the vicinity, on his way down was surprised to see a solo lady climber from India. There was an adventurous young Chinese girl who was travelling on her own in Scotland by public transport. She had come straight from China (she was not a student in UK, I mean). Then an Australian lady who had camped in her car overnight at the Ben Nevis foothills, to get an early start on the climb. I love those Australian women. I feel they can do anything. I met a few of them on my journey in North UK. They have this unbounded energy and confidence. This particular lady was kind enough to give me a lift back to the B & B. She was interested that I was an Indian. She was going to start a new career in Chakra Healing. The Scotland trip was the beginning of a new start for her, having just left behind her old life which included her job and husband. 

"The path to the top is strewn with boulders" - Did anyone say that? Thats the truth anyways. The path was cut into the mountains. There were little bridges over gorges and planks over streams, The footpath was there in name only at many places along the route. The mountain goats were there in their lairs. Babbling brooks followed one on the trail (or the other way round, since I was climbing!)

I made it to a small loch nestled amongst the Ben Nevis, a bit after the halfway mark. It was called the Halfway Loch or more correctly the Loch Meall an t-Suidhe. The path to the top is on the right of the Loch.  I realised I didnt have time to make it to the top, having got a train to catch to my next destination, Glasgow (having dropped off my rental car the previous day at Inverness). So I climbed down to the Loch and dipped my feet in its pristine water, for some chilly meditation!!!

The range of mountains around the Glen Nevis make a stunning panorama. Carn Mor Dearg, Aonach Mor, Aonach Beag are the neighbours to the Nevis. Now try saying those names the Gaellic way as you prepare to climb the range!

The Halfway Lochan, Ben Nevis

Climbing Tips - Even though I went at the fag end of the British summer, the weather was chilly enough to layer up. I chanced upon a rare phase of Scottish sunshine and only had one day of drizzle in my Highlands stay.

Boots or shoes with grip are necessary as the route to the top is filled with rubbles and has a steady gradient. 

Walking stick is a must for any climb in my opinion as it makes everything so easy

Guides or being with a group would be good as they can point out the various features. However I tend to fall behind in groups as I satisfy my curiosity, so I avoid them. 

The biggest tip is - If you enjoy trekking, you are bound to enjoy this. Relax, wear some good shoes and have a nice journey!

I had this trip way back in September 2014. Just came across my notes and blog on paper,  dug some old pics and so here it is!

"Footpath" on Ben Nevis

The babbling brooks along the way

Across a wooden bridge

Panorama of hills

Wednesday, 9 December 2020

Mind Medicine - The Best Vaccine

The vaccine scene for the corona virus seems to be reaching the final stages. For better or for worse we will be getting a vaccine soon. Whether it will have long term side effects as some discrete reports suggest, time will tell. But again, the entire vaccine industry is under severe scrutiny and not just for the Corona vaccine.

The biggest crisis that the last few months has thrown up, together with the scrouge of the virus is that of the mental variety. While those that have got the severe form of the virus have definitely faced distress and disruption in their lives, its the rest of the population worldwide, the majority, that has faced a different kind of challenge, with the abnormal changes to lifestyle.

The crisis has seen varied responses - from the most conservative, masked, dont mix, stay at home, dont eat or step outside, wait it out response to the brazen it out, and dont care, and life goes one as usual response and many forms of in between. 

The virus, its consequences, sometimes deaths and suffereing, mostly the negativity, has continued to prey heavily on our minds these past many months. The best vaccine to get rid of all these effects is to ensure we take care of our minds.

There is a small story I read recently, the story of Sir Ernest Shackleton and his Antartica Expedition. Apparently the ad Shackleton placed when looking for his crew went like this - "men wanted for hazardous journey, small wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful, honour and recognition in case of success".  

What does it say about the intrepid people who answered this ad? Were they fools? Ernest Shackleton was a legend by that time and men answering the ad and wishing to go on this expedition knew what they were in for. They understood life had no guarantees and they wished to do the things they loved. What made them stand out, was their indomitable spirit, their attitude, their thirst for discovery. Even though Shackleton's voyage was not successful in it's goals, it stood out just for the way he and his crew members survived it. Iced in for a major part of two years, a sunken ship,  taking a 800 mile open boat (the saved lifeboats) trip to solid ground.

The mind has endless possibilities. The biggest challenge it faces is the will of the person to be positive. There are so many layers covering our day to day living that it becomes an arduous task to just peel away those layers to reveal the simple task of living. But once those layers are peeled away, the mind shines cleanest and brightest. The successful leaders will tell you, that they just focussed on the job. So it is our job - to keep on living with a free mind, positive attitude. Life has no guarantees.

A race horse has blinkers to avoid external distraction. Thats what we need to do, put on the blinkers, stay focussed, and happy, and positive - and we couldn't ask for better vaccines. 

- Sm R

Saturday, 23 May 2020

Nana - RIP

On this first anniversary of Nana, I find the memories of him starting to unclog, as if they were stuck somewhere down there in the system, and refusing to come out as memories, tales waiting to be told and retold by him. But now he can’t verify them.
Being his daughter, I was subjected to some fierce protectiveness and love (not that his sons were spared the same).
A tale he loved to tell and which I distinctly remember, is how I once cried because a teacher hit me in class. I cried at home. The next day he was in the classroom and asking me which teacher hit me, while I pointed at her. I don’t know who was more mortified, the teacher or the six year old me. But nonetheless, I think I was relieved because I do remember she was a terror. I was shifted to another section.
When I first went to school by cycle, he would reach there as the bell rang and ride by me on his scooter!!! The same continued when I came back home after hostel. He would be at the bus stop to fetch me home, even if I was all of 23.
Some other persistent childhood memories are of him coming home by scooter and we would be waiting by the window. We were used to his booming laugh, his overall generosity and huge heart, also his quick temper! But he never ever raised a hand to anyone. He had his fancies. He had bought a car even before I was born, and there are so many tales about that vehicle, I think my elder brother, who had the privilege of riding in it, would be able to do justice to it. He got a Colour TV just as they started producing them and which made our house popular in the neighbourhood, he took us on annual vacations when my parents went for their conferences. He loved all those new experiences. By the time I was 11 years old, we (my brothers and I with my grandmother accompanying us) had seen most of India, literally from Kashmir to Kanyakumari.
He was a familiar figure on his scooter at the Mangalabag junction, where he stopped for his daily paan. Stories from many people about him would include, how he dropped them behind at Mangalabag, forgetting they were riding pillion! He was eccentric that way, and many other ways! Relatives remember his running after them, insisting they give blood, urine samples, so he could get them tested for whatever disease his medical eyes would have detected. I have not seen a more intuitive or genuine doctor. All our life, except the last few years, we just needed to tell a problem over the phone, for the correct diagnosis to reach us. We became quite blasé, expecting the same level of commitment and knowledge from every Doctor.
He went to work as a Surgeon at Libya for some time. The warm family man that he was, he could not last there for long. But he made the most of that time. He had a long tour of Europe on his return. He had a host of Libyan stories to tell. As a Doctor and the Chief Surgeon, he was hugely respected. For the most part the patients treated him like God. However, there is one incident which he told that gave us the chills, a patient running after him in his pickup due to some perceived grievance. He ran to the police station, and the police were very helpful. He however had significant success as a Surgeon over there and made some lasting friendships.
Other incidents come to life, as I start to write. His being desolate on retiring. He was not much a private practicing person. He gave his all to his job and rest to playing his beloved bridge, and family matters. Clubbing was not for him. Then as he got his pension dues, he picked up a project, building his beloved house. Till then we were always staying at quarters or rental accommodations. He went into the house project with the same zest he reserved for anything.
As his house got completed, and the family started staying there, he got into another project. The SCB 51, a reunion of his batchmates from medical college. From 1995, till 2018, before the advent of mobile phones till the days of all pervasive media, from heights of success, to kids marriages, grandchildren, retirement sojourns, illnesses, and lately, the last few years, deaths, the group met with clockwork regularity, monthly, then bi- monthly, quarterly, annually. The kind of seriousness, intent and formality and of course love each and every member brought to these meetings were lessons for all of us. My father was forever serious about these meet-ups and was an important cog in this wheel of reunions. My mother, a Doctor with two DMs to her credit, was always by his side, supporting his every decision, and acting on them.
He was a very curious man, always wanting to try out new things. To that end he even took computer lessons to understand the intricacies of word and excel. Anyone who got caught by him needed to explain how all the facets of a mobile phone worked. He also used his need to be on top of things, to his health. Ravaged by many diseases, he was always on the lookout for the latest cure. From applying the latest stents in 2002, to a cyber knife treatment that he had discovered that apparently worked best for prostrate cancer, he went fearlessly into the operation theatre. Maybe all those hours in the OT had given him an appreciation of how much of a saviour a surgeon is, as well as removed any fear of a surgeon’s table. It is fitting that he spent his last days in the ICU. But what a fight he gave! And what torture it was for us.
The biggest memory I would forever carry of my father is his ruling the drawing room, people coming to visit him forever at all hours, everyone from the driver or the cook’s brother to respected doctors or managers, to relatives, being accorded the same respect, the same chairs to sit, pakoda, cold drinks, tea. And respect to my Mom for providing it, the tea and pakodas.
May he carry his huge heart and egalitarian principles to whichever World he is now!

Candy Crush, Adsense and Blogging...

 Yes, it's been a long time since I have posted here. But with so many other avenues to make one's posts, and ideas public, and with...