Its not just dark anymore

No, Its not dark anymore. I've changed my template, the reason,
Only thing constant in this world is change.

Who killed Arushi?

Who killed Arushi? This question has been bothering the consciousness of the country for more than a month now. It got TRPs which can only be challenged only by some exciting episode of stupid serials or by Cricket match. But the public interest in this double murder case ensured one simple thing; you can become a celebrity after your death (even without becoming an artist).

I feel for Arushi, it is not that I’d ever knew her. Even if I’d met her when she was alive, I wouldn’t have given a shit. I just don’t just care about people from high society schools. But after her death, I do feel bad for her, bad but not sad. And I have my reasons.

For me she was not murdered, she was assassinated. Not on that fateful night whose date I don’t remember, but on the later days when her character, her nature and her life was put to investigation. She was assassinated by media, by their constant questions on her character, a fact which they just forgot to double check. She was assassinated by public, who after receiving any information made unsolicited comments about her. She was assassinated by police, which through its shoddy investigated made it sure that killer can run scot free. She was assassinated by us, every day after her murder.

We love entertainment. Let it be of any kind, even at anyone’s expense, we will enjoy it. Thrilled, laugh, cry, anguish, feared, petrified but entertained. And this time we have crossed our limits, we even let the dead entertain us. We see their re-enacted videos, what they would have done, or what they might have done; without giving a shit what actually must have happened. It is just like the age of gladiators, when people welcomed a person’s death by clapping and cheering.

Coming back to question, which by now has become a whodunit, I don’t know the answer. Even if CBI comes to any conclusion, I won’t give a shit. Why? A person is murdered in Delhi in almost everyday, and she was just one of them. But now I do feel for her, the thing they did to her after her death.

In the foot hills of Himalayas

Taking a break is always a good proposition, better when a person haven’t being outside NCR for more than 7-8 years. A mind, which works 24 hours a day and 7 days a week, needs a break. So it was proposed to me, during my examinations that a trip is being organized to Rishikesh for camping and rafting, I accepted it immediately.

We left on the evening of Friday, Friday the thirteenth. So we were late, late by at least 3 hours. Therefore when we reached Rishikesh, it was early morning 2 AM. But the ensuing journey to Rishikesh was beautiful; the Ganges at the Hari Ki Pauri provided a magnificent look, just like the teeming stars came straight to the water itself and made it their residence. On the way to Rishikesh from Haridwar we had a brief encounter with a deer. And when we reached Rishikesh it was raining cats and dogs, just adding to its beauty.

I woke up early in the morning, had sleep for only for two hours. But the sleeping less has its worth in the picturesque scenery which soothed my eyes. A photographer’s delight, especially when could covers the mountain itself, there is no more beauty than it. And you know one thing for sure, it is not Delhi, and you are in the foothills of Himalayas.

At 10 AM we left for Shivpuri, the place we were camping, our guide came to take us there. At least an hours journey from the Rishikesh, Shivpuri is a secluded place, not entirely cut off from the civilization but at least free from the hustle bustle of cities and the ever ringing mobile phones ( there was no cellular network in that place for most of the time). We were in the cradle of nature, surrounded by trees, mountains and mighty river flowing in between.

We trekked out way into the camp, it took almost 20-30 minutes, but it was great. I felt it this part of my life was missing from me, taken away by crude demands of career and life, and now I am free, free to fall. But I didn’t just trek my way to the camp, through the mountain, through the bridge and through the river bank.

Ganges was at her mighty best, the level of water and current of water was higher and faster than usual. But she provided an amazing sight. Just look the way she manages her way through the rocks, can make you realize what determination of a person can do, let it be man or woman. We spent few hours near the bank and then after lunch went for the waterfall trek.

I hate falling water, especially when it’s cold, a bit deep and fast. Our guide told us and we have to trek our way into the main fall where the actual fun lies. For that actual fun, few of us fell and few decided not to go through deep water, but after negotiating two obstructions, it was worth to stand under the fall and enjoy force of water straight into the head or body. We spend half an hour there before trekked back to our camp. That trekking involved a jump into the deep water, in the lower part of the fall, and that I must confess was great fun.

We took a shorter route to the camp. It involved negotiating cold Ganges in the evening, and possibly wild animals. We were scared, by seeing footprints, and it could be off any animal (we speculated it to be of cheetah). But all of us reached camp safely; only actual trouble was with a bull that was blocking the way, however, he also left the path for grass. And we were in the camps by 8 PM, a time to be friends.

Night in camp was just like you are engulfed in nature, dark and cloudy night, mighty Ganges flowing at her full might, is what remains in your mind for a long time, it is these things which people call memories. It had rained in the night; therefore we woke up to a misty morning. Fog covered the entire stretch of the river, as if it was providing it with some divine protection. The fog was moving north, but it kept herself over the river, like bound by an old promise not to leave it at any case.

In morning we went for some rappelling, it was raining; therefore we did it from a shorter height. From there we again walked our way through the river bank, the level had risen considerably since we came.

After breakfast, it was time to wind up, and now we had to trek our way up to our cars. This was something, something even one month of gym can’t provide you. Moving up against gravity was tiring, backbreaking and tedious. But in all it was to prove something how weak we have made ourselves through our daily intake of luxuries. We took our car to Bhrampuri, the place from where we will commence our rafting.

The road to Bhrampuri was longer than usual. What would have taken only 40 minutes took 3 hours, we were stuck in a landslide. It had rained all night, and that would have possibly resulted in such slippages of rocks and soil. It was longer than usual, stretching up the Bhrampuri itself.

Once we reached Bhrampuri, we were on the final leg of our journey. After this, we have to have say goodbye to the foothills, and return to our usual and sometimes pathetic city life. Our raft was ready there and we were provided with our protection gears like life jacket, helmet and the paddle. Our car moved on too Rishikesh where it would pick us up and we will be going to Rishikesh through our raft.

Rafting was the hallmark of entire journey; it tested our strength, our guts and our skills. The water flow was fast, so the journey which would have taken 2 hours, ended in 40 minutes. We encountered three rapids, and saw one whirlpool. One feels great when a gush of water hits you in your face, we paddle the way our instructor asked us and then when we made it made it to the shores we were asking for more. It was thrill, a brief encounter with the highest risk. On shore we had some tea and then proceeded to change our clothes. Girls were luckier to get a room, and we boys, we changed in the road itself. I don’t know how many eyes would have peeped to see us semi naked.

After we were dressed, we said goodbye. Now back to same miserable life of an ass. We got the first signals of it when we were stuck in the traffic jam in Haridwar itself. Welcome Back! It would have told us if it could speak. We were back in our asylums by early Monday morning. Goodbye foothill for now, but we will meet again..