Pilgrim's Progress

I travel too much.

This last round has been different though. North, South, East, West, all in one monsoon week. Before I post random observations from my travels, here are the lyrics of an Enya song I once liked a lot, which suit the mood of these days :

Pilgrim, how you journey
On the road you chose
To find out why the winds die
And where the stories go.

All days come from one day
That much you must know,
You cannot change what's over
But only where you go.

One way leads to diamonds,
One way leads to gold,
Another leads you only
To everything you're told.

In your heart you wonder
Which of these is true;
The road that leads to nowhere,
The road that leads to you.

Will you find the answer
In all you say and do?
Will you find the answer
In you?

Each heart is a pilgrim,
Each one wants to know
The reason why the winds die
And where the stories go.

Pilgrim, in your journey
You may travel far,
For pilgrim it's a long way
To find out who you are...

1) I often meet the rural folk. In Maharashtra, I find them simple but smart. In UP, just plain stupid. On the four hour journey to Fort Unchagaon driving past verdant fields, palpable unemployment, drab uninspiring brick and mortar houses, children swimming in canals when they should have been at school, and body breaking non-roads, I also spotted several jugaards, which coincidentally I read about in yesterday's Business Standard. Indian ingenuity at its peak, that too in UP. Here's the article.



2) I love Kolkatta. I am always happy in Kolkatta, even when I'm sad. Kolkatta is a friend for life. I think that's because a good Coastal Indian only feels at home wherever there are palm trees. North India is bereft without palms. Driving past both the bypasses yesterday, I feasted my eyes on the light green grassy swamps fringed by dark green brush and majestic swaying palms. Sweet.

3) Bangalore. Once I looked forward to going there, now the traffic and the power cuts frighten me off. Something's just not right in Bangalore. From a bubbling adolescent, the city has turned into a scheming adult. An unnatural darkness is creeping into its soul. Bangalore needs saving.

4) Pune, and the expressway, past Northpoint on the right after the Khandala junction. Smooth, fast, efficient, great looking, that's just like us. How come there are no expressways in the NCR?

5) Money. It's a gas. Wish the journalists would stop bugging me. I hear Edel's voice calling out my name several times on the phone in sheer wonder, it's far away in the middle of UP, but I can feel her joy, I read Premjeet's shy words in his email, I watch the tears welling up in Santosh's eyes, I laugh at Mani's description of DDG's expression when Partha tells him the figure ('have you added a zero?') before he takes out a glass of whisky and counts the amount on each of the checques sip by sip, I lecture my PGPAMMer's - save some of it, don't pour it all down the pub, I hug and am hugged by old people, young people, people who are the wind beneath our wings and need a windfall of their own, people who need some Cheeni in their lives and got it. Balki my dear, don't be such a killjoy.

6) Horror. This is just one of the many pictures framed up at the Fort Unchagaon haveli. A cub, for God's sake, a cub?!



It's a long way indeed.