Lost in Paradise - My New Year Experience !

The trail ended abruptly. The eight of us were at the gates of a lighthouse, which stood at the edge of a cliff, facing the expanse of the Sea. We looked around to see if there was any help at hand. No one was inside the lighthouse. The early morning breeze was giving us a much needed respite from sweat and tiredness. Below, the waves splashing against the rocks produced a steady symphony. The near full-moon was high up in the sky and the entire shore was basking in its silver light. At some distance, there were lights at the shore. Was it the same place we had originally planned to goto? No one knew. We were lost. Stranded in the middle of nowhere, with dying cellphones and little signal. It had all started with an innocuous, "What plans for the new year weekend?"

The entire day, we had been staying at a beach front, splashing in the waters, eating and gazing at the splendor of the sea, rocks, cliff and sunset. We had gotten to this secluded beach named 'paradise beach' by boat because there was no land access. In the course of our unhindered merriment, we had missed boarding the last boat out of the beach and were left behind without any night clothes or tent. Our initial plan was to get through the night, sleeping in haversacks and makeshift mats. However, as the night wore on, the prospect of getting any sleep at all, got dimmer. A combination of wet clothes, mosquitoes and the blistering chill of december got us thinking.

We then learnt from the beach-restaurant owner of a trekking trail which would lead us to a village. Our plan was to call up our cab driver and rendezvous at the village, from where we could head back to denser human settlements. The cab driver reluctantly agreed to meet us at this village, and after intense bickering within the team, it was decided that trekking at midnight through the wilderness would be the way out. Most of us were apprehensive about the whole thing. The hill we were to trek through looked quite densely foliated. The most voiced about concern was of encountering snakes and possibly some wild animals. However, by the account of the beach owner, the trek was supposed to be a straightforward thirty minute one, with little scope for getting lost. But it wasn't. Something was different, as it always happens to be. Will come to that soon enough.

We started our climb at 1.30 AM. The moon was casting a brilliant swathe of natural light across the entire beach. The trail was clearly visible in that light and we started out quite confidently, without carrying a torch light. As we went deeper into the hills, the path got narrower and steeper. Rocks and loose stones were jutting out every now and then and some of them kept coming off. The canopy of trees became tighter. The clear light became a haze of dancing shadows produced by the foliage. The place was engulfed in a foggy darkness. We were soon chanting, "all izzz welll" and occasionally taking roll calls. It was the kind of setting which would make a good plot for the-last-person-in-the-line-disappears type of ghost movies. We tried to quicken our pace and get through the deeper hills in good speed. After a while, we were out, into a clearing and along the shores of the sea.

We could see street lights emerging at a distance. Satisfied that we were not lost, we closed the gap between us and the light in rapid strides. We were pretty close, the next turn and we would be at the lights. Or so, we thought. When we took the turn, we came to a point where from the trail turned into a steady up climb having a cemented road. The lights we had seen earlier was now seperated from us by a stream of water, perpendicular to the trail. It had been over 45 minutes since we had started off. All along we believed those lights to be our destination. Now, the water separated us from it. And there was a road ahead. Where were we to go? The presence of a good road, made us infer that we had to go along that road to reach the "village". And so we took it. We were baited. For the next 30 mins, we trudged along a steep climb until we reached a dead end. The lighthouse.

A while later, we were sitting in the car, thinking about what had gone wrong. Someone mentioned that it was a bad idea to trek at night. Another rued about the guide not giving us specific details. Yet another said, we should have taken a torch light, which would have saved us from getting lost. I believe that the charming moon had pretty much ensnared us that night. Sure, it did give us the light. But we had not thought of one important thing. A full-moon is a high tide period. And we were probably trekking at a time when the moon induced tidal action was at its zenith. The water that had separated us from the other side was probably the making of the high tide which the beach owner might not have anticipated. And without a torch we could not gauge the depth of the water.

While at the lighthouse, we called our cab driver to inform him that we were lost. By then we had lost all bearings and the belief that the the lights were our destination had faded from confidence to confusion. It was then, that we got lucky. Our driver told us that he could see the light beam coming from the lighthouse. We asked him to tell us whenever he spotted the beam, and that is how we regained our direction. This took us back to the original spot where our confusion had begun. This time we were sure that we had to cross this patch of water. We walked along the water's edge, which took us inland and to a patch of fields. The fields had boundaries and dikes preventing the intruding sea water. We walked over those boundary walls until we crossed over to the other side. From there, getting to the car was a cake walk, literally! This was the way, my new year started. Lost and found at Paradise Beach, Gokarna.

Lessons for life

The fallibility of man is seldom a respected concept. The innate belief is that we are all perfect and we cannot fail. It is often spoken of as a curse. Nobody likes to fail. But we all do at one place or another. And yet, there is so much stigma attached to it. The society watches us. It gauges and measures our ability. Are you good enough? What's your worth in this world?

There is an uneasiness in every big step we take. Is it going to work or is it going to break? When defeat stares us right in the face, there is an irreconcilable reluctance to accept the outcome. How could this happen to me? I did everything I could. And yet I did not get what I wanted. A misplaced grudge against fate, destiny, God, man and maybe even animals. An urge to stop trying completely, going into a shell, fearing further failures.

I don't think the adage - prevention is better than cure - applies here. No one can really control the factors that go into what shapes the outcome. The secret is not of how not to fail. How we pick ourselves up when we fail matters more. For in that lies the ability to lead. A man who knows how to pick himself up from his failures knows what it takes to lift others from their failures as well.

I often wonder about the value of 'leadership skills' and the way it is nurtured. Leaders are not made. They develop. They are not the most talented. Neither are they the wisest. Nor are they the strongest. They are the ones who know how to dust off and get up. And in doing so, they know a thing or two about falling. And when they know that, they know how to motivate and inspire those who have fallen to rise and stand up once more.

I believe this is what our failures are for. To learn how to rise higher with each fall and in the process take a few others up as well. I don't think failure will tie me down, for now, I have lost the fear of failing.

A dog named Rocky

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who have had a pet dog and those who haven't had one. If you don't have one, go ahead and bring one home. That is one decision you will not regret. Dogs are amazing creatures, with high intelligence and emotional quotients. I would go on to say that they are humans in a merely different form. Recently, I came across a dog, which greatly resembled my dog, Rocky. Not just that, this one was so friendly with me that I felt it was Rocky in a new life. Reincarnation? Maybe, dogs remember their past lives.

Rocky was a dobermann pinscher. He came to my house because my sister used to pester my dad to have a dog. I was dead against having pets at home. Which meant that my dad would eventually get a dog. Rocky came from our carpenter's work yard. The first time I saw him, I thought "this dog is going to kill me one day". But I survived. Not that he tried. Anyway. Long story short, it turned out to be a life-enriching experience.

Dogs have a religion. That religion says, There is One and only One true master. Most dogs are believers. My dog was one as well. So, he listened to my Dad. The rest (which included my mom, sis, and our driver) were largely taken for a ride. With me, it was a case of sibling rivalry! I could not help it. He saw me as competition, a brother to wrestle with. He had quite a few friends in the kids from the school nearby. And he had one enemy. Tiger.

Tiger was the name given to the stray street dog. Now dogs are very particular about their territory and any intrusion by other dogs is seen as a sign of aggression. Rocky and Tiger had an uneasy LoC, i.e. our gate and the adjoining wall. It kept them from tearing each other apart. They did manage to get into a biting argument a couple of times resulting in a few rounds of injections and blood wounds. Thankfully it did not result in any complications.

Rocky was a very intelligent and comforting creature. In the initial days of his stay at home, we would barricade the kitchen and the puja room. He realised that those spaces were out of bounds for him and would not enter even after we had stopped barricading it. He would know exactly when to take the liberties and when to be the obedient hand/face licking dog. He could precisely gauge my family's mood and would act accordingly. There is so much more that could be said about his behavior. I could write on and on about it.

Everytime I think of Rocky I am reminded of happy times. His company was a pleasure. He was a sight to watch. A bundle of hyper energy. Jumping. Pouncing. Running around with a ball or his feeding vessel. Hanging his nose out of the car window. Profusely licking my palms. Ah, I miss him a lot. Cheers to my brother, friend and pet!

Memories Of Hyderabad

The place where I hail from has this laid back culture which affords a distinct quality of laziness, unseen or unheard of elsewhere. Yahan pe sab kuch chalta hai. Sab kuch dhere chalta hai. Sab ke paas chai peene ke liye samai hai. Tension kyon lete ho yaaron, main hoon naa. This is the quintessential nature of a Hyderabadi. Good natured, lazy, Tom Sawyer like attitude to life. No qualms about wasting hours over a cup of tea, in the company of friends :).

Well I may be a wee-bit idealizing here. I have some really great memories of this place. Of the times I have bunked classes in school, only to climb a hillock, lie down and watch the airplane's land and take off from the adjoining Begumpet airport. Jobless. Yes, that is Tom Sawyer for you. I remember the zillion occasions I have had pani-puri in the worst possible places knowing all too well the impending bout of fever and cold it was going to cause. I reminisce of those summer mornings when before the scorching Sun rose up high in the sky, a lineup of gully cricketers displayed their wares to the rest of the street. I think of those clashes with grouchy neighbours, ever complaining about our favorite pastimes being a nuisance to their serene existence.

I remember pedaling up and down the Begumpet flyover for years, on my cycle. I remember going late to school each day, and being made to stand in the line for laggards. I remember imagining my hardy competitors in school to be aliens bent upon not allowing me to do better than them in exams. Weird, yeah i know.

Whenever I think of the land South of the Vindhya's, I am reminded of the plateau of the Deccan.

My Experiments with Coffee!

Veritably, Great Souls can afford to Experiment with Truth. But lesser mortals like me have to settle for more mundane things such as experimenting with coffee. I cannot access the philosophical realms of my mind, wherein lies the key to greater pursuits of human life. So, I have resigned myself to talk about a more trivial matter i.e. of my mad-scientist-like experiments with coffee. You might be a tad bit curious to know why coffee? The answer to this lies in the climatic conditions prevailing in my immediate neighborhood and the constant stream of 'You always look tired' comments.

Having heard and had enough of these lamentations about my perennial somniacal countenance, I decided to research on ways to keep myself alert and active. And guess what? The first thing I stumbled upon in my literature review - Coffee. Before going any further into my description of the problem statement, I should give you a background of my caffeine habits. As with everything else, there is a long history.

I don't quite remember when I had my first cup of coffee. What I do know is that there were two sparring groups in my house, the Caffeine Democrats and the Lactose Republicans. The former favored passing the law to introduce coffee into my system while the latter opposed such a move vehemently. Both sides had valid points to merit their case. For instance, the Caffeine Democrats argued saying, "Only cats drink milk". The Republicans were not left far behind, they countered with a reply, "Cats don't drink chocolate milk". The strength of the Republican's prevailed for a long time. Then came the mantra, "Change" and "Yes, we can". I wanted a change too. So I started favoring the Democrats and thus the law for "Caffeine in Sumanth's veins" came into existence. By then I was in junior college and the Republicans deemed me fit for coffee anyway !

Suffice to say, coffee was not by any means a significant contributor to my body's activity quotient. Now that I look back, I wonder if it was just coincidence that even then I was commented upon for having a lethargic and droopy appearance. Anyway, coming back to the description of the present malaise, the effect of a hill station climate coupled with my usual lazy, easy going attitude were earning me more accolades than the amount deemed decent. So I decided to do something to boost my activity levels. Having read a great deal about the merits of coffee for doing exactly this, I hit upon a plan to experiment with coffee. Instead of the occasional coffee, I started having 4 cups each day. Here is the gist of the results obtained so far:

Effect on Circadian Rhythm: For the uninitiated ones, circadian (circa-cycle; diem-day) refers to the daily biological cycle of the human body. There is a marked difference in my routine. Caffeine's effect seems to linger on for about 3 hours post intake time. I don't feel drowsy and there is clarity in my understanding. A few hours after my last cup, I feel extremely sleepy and drop dead asleep. My sleep is marked by more intense and deep sleep. I have little recall of my movements in sleep (something i remembered earlier)

Effect on reaction time: My reaction time shows improvement as measured in my TT games after a coffee. I can anticipate the ball path quicker although i still suck at TT in general :). During the post coffee period, I feel alert and experience higher levels of awareness of the surrounding environment. Concentration is higher in the usual office tasks.

There are a host of secondary effects as well which i shall reserve for another time. In the overall sense coffee seems to be showing positive effects. The next steps would be to study the "Reaction kinetics and post withdrawal symptoms pertaining to caffeine inhibition" :)

The haunting question

I was having dinner this evening and it so happened that an old man selling his wares came to hawk his items to those present there. He was carrying some packets of biscuits and chips and earnestly pleading with people over there to buy something saying he was out of money for dinner. It was quite clear from his face that he had not eaten properly in a long time.

Sad part was no one in that place including me were willing to buy anything. Mostly out of lack of any necessity and also because of the fear of eating some low quality stuff whose source we are not aware of. That old man was almost in tears. He came to the hotel cashier and begged him to give something to eat. But nothing happened even then. I was eating all this while and watching him doing nothing. Actually I felt nothing all that while. Then while leaving, he looked me sorrowfully in the eye and then looked at my plate and left without a word.

I did not need anything to be told any louder. It struck me then. No man should lose his dignity and self respect over food. Feeling very guilty about the whole thing I wanted to go after him and give him some money to eat. By then he had moved a couple of places ahead and was standing in front of a couple. They were giving him some money. I got to see what they had given him. One rupee. That man was respectfully placing it away. I had the biggest lump in my throat seeing that. What can u get for one rupee these days. In my eye that was the ultimate humiliation to suffer.

I went to him and gave him a 20 rupee note hoping it would be enough for that night's meal. Definitely nothing to help him for life. But it kind of made me feel and ask a lot of questions about life. Why do some people suffer more than the rest? Why are some born the way they are? What is the point of this living? Yes. there is a law of karma. And probably thats what drives everything. But it is one hard fact to digest that while one man makes a killing, the other man is killed trying to earn.