Tag Archives: Travel

The Last Generation

Marine Drive

Photograph taken at Marine Drive, Mumbai, India

The Holy Fathers were making predictions about the last generation. They said ‘What have we ourselves done?’ One of them, the great Abba Ischyrion replied, ‘We ourselves have fulfilled the commandments of God.’ The others replied, ‘And those who come after us, what will they do?’ He said, ‘They will struggle to achieve half our works.’ They said, ‘And to those who come after them, what will happen?’ He said, ‘THE MEN OF THAT GENERATION WILL NOT ACCOMPLISH ANY WORKS AT ALL AND TEMPTATION WILL COME UPON THEM; AND THOSE WHO WILL BE APPROVED IN THAT DAY WILL BE GREATER THAN EITHER US OR OUR FATHERS.’ – From ‘The Sayings of the Desert Fathers’

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Your Handiwork

The house in the Hills

Oh the joy of seeing Your work with mine own eyes

The gushing river, the lush grass & the sprawling valleys

The dash of snow on the peaks,the crafted hills and the painted skies

Sigh! Ain’t I glad to be where nature abounds and Your glory lies

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Up in the Himalayas: Manali

The soul is at peace, the mind is at rest

It’s Where humans live in peace and nature unveils its best

Snow capped Peaks

Russet Sparrow

Lizard

Weaver

bird in the hills

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Mumbai Rajdhani: Another Trip

The thought of going back home on the Mumbai Rajdhani invariably fills me with  excitement and ebullience like that of a 4 year old when he sees candy. The silent motion coupled with high speed and the few stops this train enjoys sets it apart from any other Rajdhani in the nation. Mumbai to Delhi in flat 16 hours and that too, with convenient timings, makes this an enviable option to the myriad of flights available.

I reached Mumbai Central, the source station an hour and a half before departure by one of the new age locals that seem to be getting a lot of attention these days owing to frequent  malfunctions.

At 2:30 in the afternoon,the Mumbai Central platforms bear a bored look, one that is accentuated by the empty platforms, the dead locomotives in the pit lines, the napping railwaymen, a couple of strangely coloured stray dogs and the odd traveler.

The main hall of the station, however, portrays a different picture, with its swanky new Mcdonalds and Rajdhani restaurants, the buzzing mass of people, all conversing animatedly and  few railway workers checking, loading and unloading parcels onto carts

I preferred to stay away from the hustle and bustle and found myself comfortably placed on a new steel bench that seemed to have been victimized in some metal bashing session. 

A few locomotives kept moving up and down the lines, shunting themselves onto different platforms. The locomotives of Mumbai are unique, in that they run on both AC and DC. These specialized locomotives were created because Mumbai and areas around run on DC while the rest of India runs on AC.

By 3:30 pm a handful of passengers had arrived on the platform.  Two gentlemen chose to accompany me on either side of the steel bench. The one to my left kept himself busy over the phone, while the one to my right, obese from all ends kept nudging me for more space. all this when the benches ahead were empty. 

In the midst of our fight for space, which seems to be the story of every Indian, we were approached by a eunuch, begging (read demanding) for money. 

“De beta, paise la…bhagwan tera bhala karega” (followed by the quintessential kissing sound and the clap). Her sweetness, as in most cases, was shortlived and when she realized that we were hardly paying any attention to her, threw a string of abuses and went on ahead.

In the meanwhile, I was also fed up of the obese gentleman’s quest for space. I finally got up, glaring at the gentleman, who at that point in time, represented a  ripened tomato (in his red shirt), all ready to be squashed underfoot.

I moved on to another bench.That the train was going to Delhi was validated by ” auntyji, train ithe hi aayegi, aap kithe jaa rahe ho” ,zebra striped and gaudy sarees and salwars and a couple of surd boys jumping up and down on the platform:Punjabis 

The rake of the Mumbai Rajdhani was shunted onto the platform at 4:00 pm and it was a pleasure to see the queen, all washed and jacked up for the journey. 

As i watched the rake being shunted in, the same eunuch walked up to me again, delivering the same few lines. I refused again and protested saying that she had come to me earlier as well. Her memory seemed to be in auto mode however and she had no recall whatsoever and after an “uff ohh’ moved on to another bench.

The one disappointment on seeing the Rajdhani rake were the meshed windows, with the words ” There’s a little bit of Sail in everybody’s life” screaming out at you. My disappointment was amplified when I realized, that the usually clear view outside was now marred by the mesh across the window.genius thought for a marketer, a genuine disappointment for a railfan.

On the train, my neighbours included a couple of young chaps,a Punjabi businessman and two probably bengali ladies.A compartment ahead, sat a group of tough looking policemen with sten guns.

The train left on time and we were soon chugging along, though at top speed, across the Western terrain of India.

The Punjabi businessman sat right opposite me in the side berth. An unobtrusive man, he knew perfectly well to mind his own business. Apart from the open mouthed snores and the constant “Hey Prabhus” , he was the perfect co passenger.

Of the two young chaps, one seemed to be around 17-18 years of age, measly thin, with an army cut. He had an accent that seemed to suggest he had had some exposure abroad.

What made this character intriguing, however, were his phone calls.All his friends seemed to have nicknames assigned which included Baby Goose, Momma Goose, Tiger, Captain etc etc

He would keep referring to Western Commnd and war at this front and that front. His size didn’t seem to suggest any relation to the army, although his fervent talk seemed to suggest deep affiliation to whatever he was involved in. He had, infact come down to Mumbai because there was a lecture by Tiger, meant for the Western Command(??). 

The only other plausible reasoning for this  lingo was gaming. It was tough for me to comprehend, however, that young guys were travelling across the nation to attend lectures on strategy for a virtual world??

I resigned to Mary Higgins Clark’s “Where are you now?”and most of the evening was spent reading, interspersed with glances here and there and small naps, with my mouth wide open.

Dinner time came and went with the service good and the dinner served hot. I actually didn’t miss the soup and the bread sticks, items which have been discontinued from the Rajdhani menu by the IRCTC, citing enhanced quality focus by restricting themselves to fewer items. Fewer items meant no ice cream as well.

After the stop at Baroda (9:30 pm) ,I climbed into the cosy, side upper berth and in a matter of  minutes was lost in dreamland.

Morning was a rude experience. I was jolted out of sleep by a white light beyond the folds of my eyes. I found myself staring at the tube-light on the ceiling. The attendant had switched it on on duty’s call.

Waking up, I realized, to my dismay, that as usual, I had forgotten to bring my toothbrush and paste. Brushing would have to wait but could not afford to allow my mouth to stink. I didn’t have my pack of Happydents as well and was wondering what to do when I remembered the welcome kit (given on the Rajdhani) included a mouth freshener pack as well .

So, within the confines of  an Indian style toilet, while the others outside thought I was busy attending to the call of nature and brushing my teeth, I popped the sweetened saunf into my mouth.

Bad idea…The welcome kit included paper soap as well and the the soapy taste of soap and the sweet taste of saunf had combined and culminated in a truly disgusting taste. The mouth smelled fresh, however, even if it smelt of soap.

I got down to eating breakfast, which comprised of  tasteless vada and tangy idlis served with a hopeless green chutney. Whatever hopes I had had of the IRCTC delivering to quality were lost with this breakfast. There was no packed juice as well, which had become staple for me in my frequent journeys.

The breakfast was followed by coffee. Instead of the regular Nescafe, they served TaTa Coffee and as a proud South Indian, I must say, this will surely appeal to all who favour roast and ground coffee to the bland Nescafe.

The coffee was invigorating enough to help me finish around 50 pages of “Where are you now?”  in a span of half an hour. The train, meanwhile had reached Delhi and was slowly making its way through Hazrat Niammudin, Tilak Bridge, Shivaji Bridge to finally reach New Delhi at 8:36 am, for all practical purpose, on time.

A metro ride later, I was home, treating myself to chapati and Kerala style Chole.

Another succesful trip  and another good ride on the 2951 down Mumbai Rajdhani Express

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Ludhiana: Plums,Pepsi and Butter Chicken

I frequently survive on weird diets, often leading to mouth ulcers, currently one of which has been tormenting me for the past 4 days. Pepsi and Namkeen, half a glass of juice, no fruits …the entire diet plan is vague and rarely effective in helping me maintain my health. An over heated body only adds to the misery.

There have however, been situations where I’ve had to survive on a diet because there were no options. One such situation presented itself during my MBA summer internship. I had been placed with Taegu Tec – a leader in making cutting tools for engineering purposes. A part of the Berkshire Hathway group now, this company is based out Daegu in Korea and hence the name.

I was assigned to do some market research for the firm and understand opportunities and flaws in terms of its business. My region was north and it meant travelling all across the industrial belts of Delhi, Noida, Manesar, Daruhera, Haridwar, Ludhiana and Chandigarh.

It was also a time when my parents and my sister had gone off to Kerala and as such, I was left to fend life on my own with a house to take care off. The start wasnt very auspicious though and after a short trip to Haridwar, on coming back, I realized that I had forgotten to put the fish back in the freezer. The house had a stench which was unbearable and I was only glad that the neighbours hadnt bothered to call the police for enquiry, thereby saving me from embarrasment and a bruised ego. 

I had received an initial advance of Rs. 10,000/- from the company for my travel and accomodation.Ideally, for a college student, this should be more than sufficient. However, money was disappearing fast and in my extravagent avtaar of travelling only by Shatabdis and staying in slightly expensive hotels, I soon realized that I might just not be able to make it back to Delhi.

I was in Ludhiana when this realization hit me.After an initial bout of panic attacks, I finally sat down and budgeted the left over amount, assigning cash to each meal I was to have and the hotel and travel expenses for each day. I realized that I could pay off the hotel bills and the travel expenses and for the trip back to Delhi but I would have to compromise on food.As fate would have it, Ludhiana, the land of chicken and kebabs was to lose a foodphile to the one challenge that affects all: cash.

And so the next 7 meals across 3 days comprised of a bottle of Pepsi(500 ml) and 3 plums. I loved plums and the Pepsi helped in achieving a full stomach and the optimism of being able to make it back to Delhi( where I could borrow from my aunt) kept me going .

On the third into the diet and my last day in Ludhiana, I reassessed my situation and to my utter relief, realized I had saved more than intended which meant I had just enough to splurge on one last good non veg meal in Ludhiana.

Sitting in my hotel room, I ordered for a plate of butter chicken and naan and felt my taste buds watering in excitement and anticipation.With my stomach growling and my eyes shifting constantly from the TV to the door, I knew this was going to be well worth the wait.

After a long 20 minutes the food was in, a thickly orange gravied chicken, rich and appealing served with soft, buttery naan. My senses approved it and my mouth was eager to take big, meaty bites and chew to satisfaction.

The excitement was, however, short lived. Somehow, my stomach had adapted to my meagre diet of plums and pepsi and was now refusing to accept the flavours of the wonderfully prepared chicken.

5 minutes later I retched, spewing forth all I had eaten. Lunch, despite the butter chicken, comprised of 2 leftover plums and half a bottle of pepsi.

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The “Photo Shoot”

Weird things happen when you go for a photo shoot with a battery less digicam, an N73, a designer who believes he has the potential to be an ace photographer and an enthusiastic team who just want to have some fun!!

We’re getting a website prepared for ourselves and required some ‘cool’ pictures of ourselves. So off we went to Versova Beach in the boiling heat of the day.

After an initial round of poses with a Sony Digicam, our eyes looked yonder towards Madh Island and felt it would be the ideal location for a photo shoot.

And so we crossed over to Madh island in a ferry streaming with people across a black mass of water which was supposedly a creek meeting the sea.

The Madh island Beach is quite clean and its hard to believe that it is part of Mumbai too!!

Anyway, the digicam had given up hope by this time and it was left to my N73 to do the honours. We managed to get some pics of ourselves but an N73 camera in amateur hands can have some comical results.

Here are some of the pics that help us pass some tiring/frustrating days

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Readying ourselves!!

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10…9…8…7..6…5…4…3…2…1…

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Up up and Away!!

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That was supposed to happen in mid air!!

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The team stands together…We managed to do that quite well much to the designer’s delight!!

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The Black Sea!!

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Last but not the least!! Our able designer…he refuses to reveal his identity though!!

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Independence Day at Sinhagad

A long weekend could not go wasted. A tight budget but the willingness to make the best of it found the 6 of us in a Toyota Innova racing towards Pune. The famed expressway was a bit of a dampener though. My built up perception included 6 lanes and a perfectly straight road cutting right through the ghats. The reality however resembled the Delhi Mathura highway: good but not a class apart.

After over 3 hours on the highway which included a couple of pit stops, we finally reached Pune. Here we picked up 2 more friends to take the total to 8. The Innova is quite a spacious vehicle and despite being a 6 seater and almost all of us having stretched beyond agreeable weight limits,it was able to accommodate us in comfort.

We now moved towards Sinhagad road. After about 10-15 kms we reached Khadakwasla Lake. An expanse of water that stretches well beyond the horizon, one could easily mistake it to be a delta right besides the sea.The murky and swirling waters appeared to be quite above the danger levels.The lake seems to be a favourite amongst the Pune locals or maybe thew were the Pune Outskirts locals. The sight reminded us of the Marine Drive in Mumbai and henceforth our name for the place “K Drive”.

Anyway, our final stretch of driving was marred by our misguided sense of direction and we had to constantly stop to ask for the right way. As luck would have it, our query would be placed in front of the local marathi population which would then animatedly explain to us ( in marathi of course), the route. The wildly flailing hands didn’t help either and so it was after a while that we finally made it to the base of the Sinhagad peak also called the Swarna Dwar ( The Golden Door).

And so we started on a trek to the top, slowly negotiating the curves and bends that the peak had to offer. My friends, with their penchant for photography, felt the need to stop at each juncture to take photographs of the surroundings and themselves. I must admit now,however, that their photographs have come out quite well.Mine too.

View of the mountain tops
Streaming through a mountain
The Karvi Bush
On a side note, these flowers, I believe belong to the Karvi Bush, which blooms only once in 8 years and are found only in the Sahyadris!!
The Valley
The vegetation

The climb must have lasted for an hour when we came across a cute till ‘tapri’, essentially a stall selling tea, lemonade and pakoras. We decided to stop and had some amazing theplas ( from our bags) and some refreshing lemonade ( from his stall).

Being India’s Independence Day only ensured more unruly crowds and slowly the people behind and ahead of us just kept increasing.

Tired as we were, we decided to carry on.The rain had slowly become a force to reckon with as well and our thick raincoats only ensured more heat within and hence more sweat beads.

We stopped after another 30 minutes of climbing and took a break to chatter amongst ourselves on the distance left to cover. We could barely see the Doordarshan Tower on top of the peak but knew we were close. Two of my other mates took the break as an opportunity to carry some explorations of their own.Even as we were readying ourselves for the final ascent,these two vanished without a trace. After some frantic calling we decided to move on. Concerned as we were we thought that good sense would prevail and that the two of us would stop midway and meet us. Alas, we were wrong and soon mild concern intensified into worry. Shouting at the top of our voices,we went back looking for them but they were nowhere to be seen.

We decided to surge ahead and after a final 20-25 minute trek we finally reached the summit and to our relief quickly masked by anger, our two mates were standing there grinning. After the necessary and required session of reprimanding, we were ready to explore the fort that Shivaji had so valiantly fought for.

The place has an interesting story to it. The fort was annexed from the Mughals by Shivaji after an intense battle that saw the death of one of his favourite generals,Tanaji, the sinha (lion).

Tanaji used his pet Indian Monitor Lizard, called Yeshwanti, to scale the steep rock face of the fort and attack the mughals from the least expected side of the fort.

A memorial now stands within the fort,dedicated to this great maratha warrier.

Tanaji

After a 5-10 minute walk within the fort we decided to try the much acclaimed food of the locals. It must be the cold,I believe, the food tasted divine. We feasted on tea ( served in kulharrs),rotis made of jowar,curd,egg curry and onion pakoras.

And so with a full stomach and tired legs we decided to take the next best option to trekking downhill: The Jeep.

After some useless negotiations with the driver we got in at Rs 30 per individual. We were 8,the Jeep was designed to carry a maximum of 10 but the driver believed in 12, if not more…and so hands and feet were stacked wherever possible. The driver just about managed to get the wheel in his hand. I was more concerned about him falling out of the jeep with the rest of us inside. Fortunately, his expertise proved correct and within half an hour we are at the base of the hill, still alive and kicking.

We were however on another side of the hill,not where our vehicle was parked. The “no network” message only compounded our issues and I, along with another mate, had to trek 5kms to get to our vehicle. Exhausted, we climbed on and wished ourselves back in town : Mumbai which was fulfilled after another 3 hours on the road.

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A high point in the Sahyadris

Saturday, 2nd August,2008: We woke up to another overcast, wet morning in Mumbai. It was early morning and we were still pretty much sleepy. After our mandatory chores we waited expectantly for our hired Chevrolet Tavera with the driver, supposed to report at 5:00 am. Timeliness is a virtue rarely found in the Indian subcontinent and so when the driver called us at around 5:10 am we were pleasantly surprised. However, soon to our dismay, we realized that the driver was not very direction savvy. It is after 45 minutes that we finally managed to spot him wandering around our society.

And when we saw him we were not quite sure if he was of an eligible age as well. So much so for a good start to the day.

The previous evening my office team(my boss Deepak,Aparna and me) had the spent the evening buying accessories and food. Shorts,shoes,jackets,chocolates,chips,bread,juices and bread spreads formed part of our travel basket. All the food along with the rain gear now formed part of our backpacks.

We had to pick up Aparna from Borivilli. After some struggles with the routes,the accelerator and the gears, we somehow managed to help her aboard.

It was already close to 7’0clock and we had a long drive of atleast 200 kms ahead of us. Telling the driver to speed up seemed futile as the consequences could be fatal. Neither did we know the route,so in essence we were left at the mercy of the driver and the ever helpful Maharashtrian Public.

The driver was an interesting personality in himself.He seemed new to the wheel and the city but would not bend to ask directions from us or the public. This trait of his soon found us racing towards Mumbai on Nashik Road from Thane instead of going the other way towards Kalyan and Igatpuri. If not for the signboards on the highway we would have soon found ourselves outside Victoria Terminus.

After a dose of anger and frustration, our driver seemed meeker and ready to move in a direction which we decided on. And so we were back on the highway,this time racing in the right direction.

One stopover for breakfast and we were back but soon were stuck in a traffic jam that seemed to stretch for miles. The location however was scenic with streams on one side and the railway track on the other. 1 hour and 2 chocolates later the traffic jam seemed to be thawing away.The culprit: an oversized iron part resting on a puny Volvo truck.

The Traffic Jam

We finally reached Igatpuri at around 1:00 pm and took the first detour towards Bhandardhara at a village called Ghoti. A densely populated village, the thick iron spoked umbrellas with spear like extensions were showcased throughout the marketplace.

The route beyond Ghoti remains one of the most enchanting sights. We stopped at multiple points enroute simply to gaze and take some snapshots of the beauty around.

Drive to Kalsubai

The view of the Sahyadris

The hills
Our destination was Bhari, a village at the base of the majestic Mt Kalsubai. With lots of school children around, our spirits were a bit dampened as the trek seemed to be an easy one. It is later that we realized that generally,people walk till a temple midway to the top.

At 1696m or 5400 feet,Mt Kalsubai has the distinction of being the tallest peak of the Sahyadris. The first few steps involved passing through the slush of mud and goat dung to reach a furiously flowing stream.

Off we go

The Village

After crossing the stream began our trek with each step increasing in complexity and requiring more movement of the muscles.

We moved our way up with the rain slowly gaining momentum. With increasing gradient,the views also just became better.

where the heavens meet the earth

The hills and the springs

Just another view

Kalsubai Springs

A look above would reveal some gushing waterfalls and the imposing head of the mountain. “would we manage to reach the summit? and that too before night?” was a thought that started to bother me. However, we kept on moving till Aparna’s muscles said no. Tired and too fatigued to move after some slips and a long tedious walk, Aparna told us to carry on . Two village kids who had been accompanying us stayed back with her while we pressed on.

The incline became steeper and at times it was tough to find a firm footing. We soon reached the base of the stairs that were leading to the summit of the mountain. Climbing was slowly taking its toll on me as well. I was dragging myself with constant breaks in between. Gasping for breath I would at times sit in the mud itself. Deepak,with his regularly exercising frame moved on with me following a few minutes behind.

The stairs gave way to metal ladders where there were straight rock faces.These metal ladders had bars so thin and slippery(owing to the rain) that one wrong step and you could fall into the depths.

It was after a while that we could finally spot the summit. A fresh surge of adrenalin ensured that I climb the final few steps and be amidst the white mist which were known as clouds to the people in the valley. We had finally made it to the summit and the view was well worth it. The waterfalls we had seen in the distance were now flowing besides us and the clouds covered us in a white blanket. We could soon see nothing beneath us but a cloud cover that seemed to extend for miles.

The springs at the summit

The clouds and the springs

The climb down was another story altogether..We had to hold ourselves from looking down at the valley.The ladder bars made my legs shiver and the slippery terrain made me miss a beat quite a few times.

But we made it and soon we were back with Aparna,happily munching away at sandwiches and wafers.

Another 15-20 minutes and we were back in the village and in our car,hoping that our driver would be safely able to reach us home to Mumbai.

Need some more dope on our trek and the place.Heres Aparna’s post on the same

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Book wisely!!

This incident happened in 2006, during my summer internship with Taegu Tec ( a korean cutting tools manufacturer,now part of the Berkshire Hathway group).

After my initial training in Bangalore, I had a few days off before reporting to the zonal head in Delhi. I decided to go to Mumbai to be with my friends and have some fun filled days before the slogging began. Now, as mentioned in some of my previous posts as well, my laziness ensured that I didn’t go to the ticket counter,stand in a queue and book the ticket.

What I did,in fact, was to tell a friend of mine to go to the Kempe Gowda station and book the tickets on my behalf. The bus I intended to go by was “Airavat”, the state transport’s Volvo. Luck failed me however with all the seats being full on the volvos to Mumbai.Instead,my friend booked me on the next best option, an express service being run by the Maharashtra state transport.While the Volvo would have cost me Rs. 1000/- the express cost me only Rs. 500/-.

The day of the Journey:

I reached the bus station an hour before time. I have always been in awe of the beautiful Volvo buses and so I kept staring longingly at them. The ‘Airavat’ buses to Mumbai came and left. Just as the last volvo to Mumbai was leaving, a shabbily dressed man walked up to me and asked “aapko kidhar jaane ka hai?”(where do you have to go?).

Looking at him suspiciously, I answered Mumbai to which he replied ” par volvo toh jaa chuki hai?” (but the volvo has already left?). I replied saying that I was going by the express. “Sir aap pehle express ko dekh lena, fir decide karna ki usme jaane ka hai ya nahi”

The express eventually rolled in and the comparison was as follows:

KSRTC Volvo

KSRTC Volvo

VS

MSRTC Express

MSRTC Express

The Rs. 500 ticket suddenly made a lot of sense.”Saab isme toh hum jaise log bhi nahi jaate!!”( sir, people like us also dont travel in such buses), the man proceeded to inform me. Faced with the prospect of traveling 21 hours in a rickety old red bus, this shabbily dressed man suddenly became my angel in disguise. I asked him about my options and he instantly referred me to a private tour operator. In the meanwhile the “laal dabba” left and I was left with a ticket that could not be canceled and refunded.

Anyway, thanks to this guy, I finally boarded a private volvo which helped me reach Mumbai in 19 hours and an intact back and spine…the total cost…Rs 1700/-

Well, 2008 has seen the arrival of two sites which give you the convenience and ease of booking bus tickets. So, for all lazy,busy and last minute bums, these sites can be used to book your bus tickets

a) redbus.in

b) www.ticketvala.com

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Lethargy, milk and rolls

Once in Delhi, Lethargy rules. Its something to do with the climate or maybe its just home. Whatever be the reason, it is with great effort that I managed to wake up and pen this post.

While working in Delhi, in my previous stint, my daily route involved traveling roughly 20 kms from Janakpuri to East of Kailash. Fortunately for me,Vineet.another colleague( and now a close friend) used to come from Nangloi, which is further away. I thus used to get a lift from home till office.

For all those who thought that the drive would be smooth due to Delhi’s broad roads, here’s an eye opener. In the mornings and evenings, the roads are so congested,vehicles can barely move. it used to take us roughly 1.5 hours either way.

Now 1.5 hours is a lot of time and with our inclination to food, we inevitably used to make a pit stop at Satya Niketan.

Satya Niketan is to South Campus what Kamla Market is to North Campus. An epicenter of activity and campus gossip, you’ll find a lot of college students hanging out,gossipping and eating. Our interest as “the corporate executives”, was however limited only to eating. OK,I’ll admit grudgingly to a bit of gossip as well.

Satya Niketan is host to some really good eating outlets and our favourite was Keventers.
Now Keventer’s is ingrained deeply in Delhi’s heritage. Every Delhiite is expected to know what Keventer’s is. Flavoured milk is their strength and the servings in 400 ml milk bottles adds to the charm.
Keventer’s has quite a few outlets in Delhi, the more popular ones being in CP, Karol Bagh and Kamla Nagar. Satya Niketan: well now you know. In addition to milk Keventers also stocks some delectables like puffs(patties), Cream rolls, sandwiches and pastries. Cheap and acceptable to the taste buds, Keventer’s used to be an ideal eat stop for us.

One of our other favourite spots was 34, Chowringee Lane. Simply mouth watering rolls.A small outlet, this is probably the most frequented food joint by students.The quest for a roll may not,however, always end up with a roll in your hand owing to the crowd and an even greater waiting time!!. So many rolls to make and only one tawa can be a great mismatch and many a time we have had to return to the car defeated and fuming.

Now to come to the point, my only escape from lethargy, yesterday came with us(Vineet and me) going to Satya Niketan and having a double egg mutton roll from 34,Chowringhee Lane and a  chilled bottle of Butterscotch milk from Keventers. The waiting time at Chowringhee lane hasnt got any better.

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