All I was aiming for a hot cup of bed-tea facing the heights of Dhauldhar, before I left for Dharamsala. Last night delayed return from Manali slightly affected my touring schedule, as I begun my journey in a deferred note. Dharamsala- which become my preferred destination since college days due to my lot many Tibetan friends and their freedom movement.
Still my heart weeps for Tibetans and for their cause. Every year I made my ground to TIPA (Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts), Mcleodganj for being a live spectator of Miss Tibet Contest. Last year I missed that event due to my commitments for Kullu Dusherra. Anywayss. I rolled towards Dharamsala with the perfect drive of Sodhi. Mandi – Jogindernagar highway is a critical part of Pathankot – Leh National Highway, especially for Indian Army logistics and supply for remote Army post situated in far flungs of Himachal and J&K. During this drive, I was the realising the long convoys of Shaktimaans and Ashoka Leylands would have been a last sight for me. This track is slightly a tough one due to its numerous zig-zags which used to trouble Poonam while our drive here.
Crossing tiny cluster of Padhar, Ghatasani, Ghumma, Harrabagh brought me to Shanann, an outskirt of Jodindernagar. Shanann, a mighty hydel power project which came into being in Punjab’s Raj (pre HP creation times) and intrestingly still owned as property of PSEB (Punjab State Electricity Board. Amazingly Punjab still rules in HP territory. Very Unusual. Moving ahead lies the town of Jogindernagar on beautiful green pastures. I never stayed in this town, but I wished to, this time again just crossed the tiny lanes of escaping my car from the congested traffic. Frankly speaking I never felt like anything intresting in this town, but its green pastures and one railway station. Pathankot-Jogindernagar railwayline came into operation during British Raj for catering their needs. This railwayline couldn’t get that much of its hype likewise Kalka-Shimla but continued to be act as a lifeline for the locals. I rued for not having a ride of it in my lifetime but consoled with a beautiful photo shoot of the Jogindernagar railway station for my collection. I spent some time there for observing locals movements and drove back.
Just a four hour journey from Dharamsala-Mandi/Mandi-Dharamsala (140 km) are never felt like a pain rather, I enjoyed every moment of my drive in this part of the world. Now I was getting emotional for some reasons sitting next to my pilot Sodhi. I was just a mute spectator avoiding talks/discussions or say even attending phone calls. Whatever comes in front of me for the last time, I was simply consuming for my everlasting memories. Cattle grazing on the pastures, a brief stopover at narrow gauge railway crossing and finally waving to passangers, smoke coming out of small dabhas/tea stalls, natives endless wait for their buses to reach their destinations, rural folks returning home with a load of fuel on their heads ……. all are the moments, I know, which would be coming after a long period.
Crossing Jogindernagar, a diversation from NH lends to a beautiful place called Bir/Billing, a venue which is thronged by professional and ameteurs paragliders from the world. Last October, the venue hosted Pre World Cup for Paragliding in association with Himachal Tourism, me the lucky one to capture every moments of the event. Bir, apart from the paragliding venue, known for Tibetan settlement and a couple of monestries there. It gives a different experience alltoghter to have a feel of this place. My words are helpless to narrate those glorious moments which I spent there with my family and friends. Joining back to National Highway and 10 km marks the end of the district Mandi and starts district Kangra. Here Baijnath welcomes you which an picturesque note make everyone to put a break here for town’s photo shoot from such a height. Baijnath is supposed to be a sacred land where Ravana, once mediated here, making this land pious for everyone. And that could be the reason why there is no such Dusherra celebrations rather a huge amount of respect for the demise devil. But that gives me a deep thought on weeklong festivity of International (so called !) Kullu Dusherra Festival at Kullu which is hardly 200 km from here.
Here comes the Paprola, Ahlihal, Juri and Holta for my arrival at Palampur. Nothing much I could do for my super super senior at DAV College, Chandigarh and Param Vir Chakra winner martyr Captain Vikram Batra, but as a mark of the respect, I refuel my petrol tank at his father’s petrol pump which was rewarded to him by Indian Oil and Govt of India on his martyrdom. Massive display boards at his petrol pump infuse a sense of patriotism every passerby. I took a note of it and commanded Sodhi – Challo Saarthi
Palampur after Solan and Kullu is one of the three cities which always impresses me a lot. Its conducive climate always invited me for numerous times. Its friendly people are unforgettable who kept inviting me and I fails on my comittments. Mr. Sarin and Renu, if you are going through my blog, get ready for your hosting. Surely I will be back with my junior. Meanwhile we continue to pray for your smooth operations of Taravilla. Lord bless your venture.
Tea gardens, yes that is something as an ideal backdrope which represent Kangra for its Kangra Tea. I don’t know how many times, me, Poonam and Candy poses at Tea Gardens for our memoirs. Aroma coming out of the each pluck of the tea-buds was simply remarkable. One more click but this time without Candy and Poonam. Ohhh Candy !!! whee are you ? Hard to leave the place for the last time but we have to ensure that we reaches my Zonal Operational well in time to say atleast my colleagues for a final good bye. Seeked blessings from Maa Chaminda enroute and hurriedly made my break at Kotwali Bazar, where lies my office for six months for me. Nothing will change here, Leading upstairs, I opened the window which gives a perfect view of Kotwali Bazar. Wowwww….. Maroon robed Lamas making their ways, Young Tibetan lads on the ears breaking silencers aided motorcycles escapes crowd, firangs negotiating at their best, some waiting (just outside my office) for 7 o’clock tourism bus departed for Delhi, Midtown stand high amidst its hustle bustle, kashmiri porters eyeing on local dukaandar especially well off firangs, policeman whistles to manage the traffic jam. Nothing has been changed and surely will never be.
Before sun sets, I won’t like to miss the oppurtunity for my eyes. Cantt Road leads to Mcleodganj which is barely 10 km from my office. We often used to have a uphill drive for Mcleodganj during our lunch break. As Sun gets dipping to somewhere close to Pong or beyond Pong, I got the enough height for capturing the defining moments for my naked eyes. A red orange dot or ball getting merged into a huge pond (Pong) leaving my eyes open wide. Situated very close is Tirah Lines, a small cantonment which was once set up during the Raj era, even still now continue to work in same fashion. With the fear of espoinage of local Tibetans and continous foreign footfalls, the cantonment shifted its vital functionaries to other places leaving this place just as an Army residential.
I zipped out of everything for a wonderful hosting of my friend – Jitender who manages an affiars of beautiful hotel named “Anand Palace” at Bhagsu. Exactly, that is the same place where I was aiming for a hot cup of tea as bed tea. Last month only, I came here along with my beautiful family and everyone here observed the cute movements of Candy. My friend Jitender has no words this time but simply acted as a silent host with his mom. During my stay in Dharamsala, everytime we came here, the fellow give his over best of his hospitality. Today, I can feel from the core of my heart, the wet eyes of Jiten and his mom has lot many doubts on departed soul and Poonam, but again - their silence are helpless. Dear Jiten, I am sure Candy must be thanking you from ‘there’.
Next morning, rather on the bed being rolled within quilt (razai), I preferred the bed tea at terrace enclosure. Each sip has its winning flavour identical with the local environ was just awesome and cant be narrative. The early morning mood was capturing the snow capped mounts of Truind. The silence of the Mcleodganj was visible from such a height. Ohh my lovely Dharamsala miss you as much Candy.
Will be back.
Still my heart weeps for Tibetans and for their cause. Every year I made my ground to TIPA (Tibetan Institute of Performing Arts), Mcleodganj for being a live spectator of Miss Tibet Contest. Last year I missed that event due to my commitments for Kullu Dusherra. Anywayss. I rolled towards Dharamsala with the perfect drive of Sodhi. Mandi – Jogindernagar highway is a critical part of Pathankot – Leh National Highway, especially for Indian Army logistics and supply for remote Army post situated in far flungs of Himachal and J&K. During this drive, I was the realising the long convoys of Shaktimaans and Ashoka Leylands would have been a last sight for me. This track is slightly a tough one due to its numerous zig-zags which used to trouble Poonam while our drive here.Crossing tiny cluster of Padhar, Ghatasani, Ghumma, Harrabagh brought me to Shanann, an outskirt of Jodindernagar. Shanann, a mighty hydel power project which came into being in Punjab’s Raj (pre HP creation times) and intrestingly still owned as property of PSEB (Punjab State Electricity Board. Amazingly Punjab still rules in HP territory. Very Unusual. Moving ahead lies the town of Jogindernagar on beautiful green pastures. I never stayed in this town, but I wished to, this time again just crossed the tiny lanes of escaping my car from the congested traffic. Frankly speaking I never felt like anything intresting in this town, but its green pastures and one railway station. Pathankot-Jogindernagar railwayline came into operation during British Raj for catering their needs. This railwayline couldn’t get that much of its hype likewise Kalka-Shimla but continued to be act as a lifeline for the locals. I rued for not having a ride of it in my lifetime but consoled with a beautiful photo shoot of the Jogindernagar railway station for my collection. I spent some time there for observing locals movements and drove back.
Just a four hour journey from Dharamsala-Mandi/Mandi-Dharamsala (140 km) are never felt like a pain rather, I enjoyed every moment of my drive in this part of the world. Now I was getting emotional for some reasons sitting next to my pilot Sodhi. I was just a mute spectator avoiding talks/discussions or say even attending phone calls. Whatever comes in front of me for the last time, I was simply consuming for my everlasting memories. Cattle grazing on the pastures, a brief stopover at narrow gauge railway crossing and finally waving to passangers, smoke coming out of small dabhas/tea stalls, natives endless wait for their buses to reach their destinations, rural folks returning home with a load of fuel on their heads ……. all are the moments, I know, which would be coming after a long period.
Crossing Jogindernagar, a diversation from NH lends to a beautiful place called Bir/Billing, a venue which is thronged by professional and ameteurs paragliders from the world. Last October, the venue hosted Pre World Cup for Paragliding in association with Himachal Tourism, me the lucky one to capture every moments of the event. Bir, apart from the paragliding venue, known for Tibetan settlement and a couple of monestries there. It gives a different experience alltoghter to have a feel of this place. My words are helpless to narrate those glorious moments which I spent there with my family and friends. Joining back to National Highway and 10 km marks the end of the district Mandi and starts district Kangra. Here Baijnath welcomes you which an picturesque note make everyone to put a break here for town’s photo shoot from such a height. Baijnath is supposed to be a sacred land where Ravana, once mediated here, making this land pious for everyone. And that could be the reason why there is no such Dusherra celebrations rather a huge amount of respect for the demise devil. But that gives me a deep thought on weeklong festivity of International (so called !) Kullu Dusherra Festival at Kullu which is hardly 200 km from here.
Here comes the Paprola, Ahlihal, Juri and Holta for my arrival at Palampur. Nothing much I could do for my super super senior at DAV College, Chandigarh and Param Vir Chakra winner martyr Captain Vikram Batra, but as a mark of the respect, I refuel my petrol tank at his father’s petrol pump which was rewarded to him by Indian Oil and Govt of India on his martyrdom. Massive display boards at his petrol pump infuse a sense of patriotism every passerby. I took a note of it and commanded Sodhi – Challo Saarthi
Palampur after Solan and Kullu is one of the three cities which always impresses me a lot. Its conducive climate always invited me for numerous times. Its friendly people are unforgettable who kept inviting me and I fails on my comittments. Mr. Sarin and Renu, if you are going through my blog, get ready for your hosting. Surely I will be back with my junior. Meanwhile we continue to pray for your smooth operations of Taravilla. Lord bless your venture.
Tea gardens, yes that is something as an ideal backdrope which represent Kangra for its Kangra Tea. I don’t know how many times, me, Poonam and Candy poses at Tea Gardens for our memoirs. Aroma coming out of the each pluck of the tea-buds was simply remarkable. One more click but this time without Candy and Poonam. Ohhh Candy !!! whee are you ? Hard to leave the place for the last time but we have to ensure that we reaches my Zonal Operational well in time to say atleast my colleagues for a final good bye. Seeked blessings from Maa Chaminda enroute and hurriedly made my break at Kotwali Bazar, where lies my office for six months for me. Nothing will change here, Leading upstairs, I opened the window which gives a perfect view of Kotwali Bazar. Wowwww….. Maroon robed Lamas making their ways, Young Tibetan lads on the ears breaking silencers aided motorcycles escapes crowd, firangs negotiating at their best, some waiting (just outside my office) for 7 o’clock tourism bus departed for Delhi, Midtown stand high amidst its hustle bustle, kashmiri porters eyeing on local dukaandar especially well off firangs, policeman whistles to manage the traffic jam. Nothing has been changed and surely will never be.
Before sun sets, I won’t like to miss the oppurtunity for my eyes. Cantt Road leads to Mcleodganj which is barely 10 km from my office. We often used to have a uphill drive for Mcleodganj during our lunch break. As Sun gets dipping to somewhere close to Pong or beyond Pong, I got the enough height for capturing the defining moments for my naked eyes. A red orange dot or ball getting merged into a huge pond (Pong) leaving my eyes open wide. Situated very close is Tirah Lines, a small cantonment which was once set up during the Raj era, even still now continue to work in same fashion. With the fear of espoinage of local Tibetans and continous foreign footfalls, the cantonment shifted its vital functionaries to other places leaving this place just as an Army residential.
I zipped out of everything for a wonderful hosting of my friend – Jitender who manages an affiars of beautiful hotel named “Anand Palace” at Bhagsu. Exactly, that is the same place where I was aiming for a hot cup of tea as bed tea. Last month only, I came here along with my beautiful family and everyone here observed the cute movements of Candy. My friend Jitender has no words this time but simply acted as a silent host with his mom. During my stay in Dharamsala, everytime we came here, the fellow give his over best of his hospitality. Today, I can feel from the core of my heart, the wet eyes of Jiten and his mom has lot many doubts on departed soul and Poonam, but again - their silence are helpless. Dear Jiten, I am sure Candy must be thanking you from ‘there’.
Next morning, rather on the bed being rolled within quilt (razai), I preferred the bed tea at terrace enclosure. Each sip has its winning flavour identical with the local environ was just awesome and cant be narrative. The early morning mood was capturing the snow capped mounts of Truind. The silence of the Mcleodganj was visible from such a height. Ohh my lovely Dharamsala miss you as much Candy.
Will be back.
No comments:
Post a Comment