Old memories...

Love's not always a fond feeling, not for all of us. The poem below is dedicated to the lover who loved deeply yet lost his love to Fate...

In moments of solitude,
In snatches of quietude,
i remember you...

In the memories of a love so fond,
The messy yet beautiful knots of its bond,
i remember you...

Time is a healer i am told,
But that once beatin' heart's now gone cold,
Hollow and grey, hollow and old,
i tell meself i've got to be bold...

Life's all about trudging on,
And it's been a while that we've moved on,

"Life's got something for you sonny,
Everyone gets a second chance honey!"

A cruel laugh, and nasty smirks,
Love's a joke played on jerks,
Work keeps me alive, work!
Keep that mind active, let it not shirk!

Emotions and feelings, they're all but gone,
Just as dew at the break of dawn,
But once in a while comes a feeling that's true,
i remember someone, i remember you...

 

And so spoke the hatchet to the Indian brave...

And spoke the hatchet to the Indian brave...

This poem is about a call to honour. The protagonist is an American Indian brave who has returned from a meeting of clans with the white settlers and has agreed to a shameful peace. This peace declares the Sioux Indians who've been living off the South Dakota lands for centuries homeless, to be settled someplace in a reservation.

According to Indian custom, the burial of a hatchet meant the cessation of hostility between tribes. This gave birth to the phrase "burying the hatchet" indicating a truce.

The hatchet speaks to the brave egging him to take up arms and break the truce...

******************************

You and i, are one and the same,
Mere pawns in the Great Spirit's Game
Rise up to glory, rise up to fame,
but bowed has your head down in shame?

What is peace, what is truce?
Weapons for a victim's abuse!
A lifetime of misery, a lifetime of pain,
Is this the price for a moment's refrain?

My tongue it yearns for blood to taste,
Yet here am i buried in waste
I was born for honour to upkeep,
not witness silently the tears you weep

Thy enemy's lifeblood i shall taste,
His body shall be the one i waste
Free were we, and free shall we be
White settlers no more shall we see

Learn to be brave, learn to be bold,
You and i, we must be cold
Together we shall teach the White Man,
These sacred lands are not be sold!
 

The late night's 'hunt'...

We did have a sunset scouting after all! In fact, we ventured out close to midnight to drive out wild boar that were apparently causing wanton damage among the coffee plants.

Picture this; a dark black sky, a sky as black as the darkest tar, all around you are tall trees the shortest of which is over 10 feet tall casting strange shadows on the ground. The undergrowth's visible just as a blur against the general darkness. This is topped with a touch of cold, yes it's misty and the temperature's hitting a number in single digits! And you're walking through this veritable darkness, three men. Shared among the trio is a torch and a shotgun with pepper shot, harmless if you've got a thick coat of fur!

Your quarry for the night is armed to the teeth, literally! The wild boar has terrible tusks, and a nasty temper to add to it. They're reknowned to have despatched tigers, so you can just about imagine...

And what are we having to do with the wild boar? Eh, i told you this before; we're going to drive them out of the estate. Us bang bang, them shoo shoo! Clear...?

You'd love to know who all were there for the hunt, well it was me, Ashwin and Dr.Javid. Dr.Javid had driven them out on occasions before, so he was cool, i had been scouting in forests even in the dark for years now, so i had to be fine, but Ashwin was the only one who could rightfully say he was afraid. Guess what? Ashwin learnt his first lesson in stalking that night. Despite this being his first night out on a scouting trip, he fared better than some people i knew with much more 'experience' in hunting...

Not a word was shared between us, as we silently made our way through the forest scanning carefully on both sides with the torch. If the wild boar were to appear, they'd appear as small red beads in the dark. The red colour being reflected off their eyes by the light! Oh yes, just in case you forgot, it was night time, much before 03:00 am, and according to the jungle clock, this was peak business hour! Wild bison, elephant and deer namely sambur and 'barking' deer graze about in the clearing occasionally coming down to drink at the water hole. Here their predator, the leopard or tiger lies in wait to make a meal of the unwary!

The estate was flanked by rich forest on both sides, so we were navigating through a kind of a forest 'highway'! Time passed, and there was not a sign of life on either side of this 'highway'! Maybe it was just too cold for them to move out, maybe...

We reached the clearing where the boar had dug up the field and we thoroughly scanned the place. At first, i got a pair of eyes peering back at the torchlight, but was lost soon enough. Two whitish orbs of light were reflected off the torch's beam. Maybe it could be a jackal, or a leopard, or something else, God alone knows. The hunt was off!!

The doctor told us of an incident where a woman visiting the estate like us was once 'wiped out' by a wild boar. Wipe out in this context means the wild boar simply pushed her off its path when it found her blocking its path in its attempt to flee! Not a deliberate attack, but the wipe out was performed with those deadly tusks, and she was raked by the boar, and was badly hurt. I was just imagining wild boar to be put up in a bush or a thicket ahead, and when we pass by it to rake me as well! Fantasy, my love, fantasy! The brain can do wonders when you're afraid, and that's precisely when you make a fatal mistake! Stay calm, and you'll probably survive without a scratch...

Ashwin all this while was perfectly okay except that he wanted me watch over his back, which was remarkably cool for a first timer in terms of courage! And so, after a good 20 minutes walk about, we came back home to our comfy bedspreads. Phew, enough for a day i guess!

After this was yet another day's worth of birding, a brief siesta at the Harley Falls, and some more lovely coffee and delicious chow!

If you're thinking this was a pure adrenaline, man thing kind of an adventure, you aren't totally wrong, but we did have something intelligent to do as well! The doctor was a pro-environment person just like us, and so over cups of coffee, we discussed as all environmentalists do; lament over the destruction of the forest, destruction of its inhabitants, how do we handle this burgeoning pressure on the environment, et cetera, et cetera...

On the eve of our last day at Sakleshpur, the doctor set up his telescope in the middle of the coffee plant, a place where the coffee is dried before being sent for roasting. Guess what, he had a really good knowledge of the astronomical bodies watching over us.

Did you know that there are just about a billion, billion stars in our galaxy, and that our galaxy's just one among God knows how many. The stars we see are nothing but images of theirs what they were millions of years ago, their light's millions of years old, and we don't know whether they're there or not. Out in this vastness, Earth's just a small pinhead, and we're living on this pinhead...

Creatures living on a pin head, and we think we're masters of the universe? Fuck off buster...

After a good while observing the Orion's belt, the Betelgeux, and the Milky Way not to mention other important galaxies and stars, the clock struck 11:00 pm. Time to get going so as to catch the 12:00 am express to Bangalore for me, and the 02:00 am train to Mangalore.

Adieu Sakleshpur, adieu doc, until we meet again.

The bungalow at Cullerhully Ayn Coffee Estate

P.s: Obama never lost his fear and hatred for us, although Michelle became pretty pally with us! Obama was rather happy to see us go...

Forays into the forest!

Dr.Javid really knew just what we needed. Eggs and a marvellous couscous made from puffed rice (poha in Marathi parlance, avil upma in Tamil...) o'er some more home brewed coffee more than replenished us for the upcoming foray!

We had a guide this time, a lil' kid from the estate named Abhinav. He knew his way around the forest, and he tried to impress us with his 'knowledge' of the legendary Kaati!

Don't forget the magic word Kaati across the rest of the adventure, because a lot of adventure revolved around the Kaati itself! Kaati means Wild Bison in Kannada and Thulu, the local dialects spoken here; and Ashwin solved the dilemma of my 'non-comprendo Kannada' with his fluency in both!

I was keen in shooting the Kaati. More than elephant or leopard or any other animal, i always had a fascination for this rather humongous but really muscled buffalo (choco brown in colour with white stockings, and not black)! Oh yes, before you start giving me those wrinkled eyebrow looks and signs of cutting my throat; shooting here means shooting with my camera, and my gun's my 150-500mm Sigma lens attached to my good ol' Canon camera!

Apparently, Kaati were numerous in these forests and could be easily sighted. Of course, this is easier said than done for these huge buffaloes are masters at making themselves disappear into the slightest of cover. Evening's when they'd come down to drink. But the forest where we were headed was mountainous terrain, and experience told me the Kaati'd be resting in the shade of some tree grove; and a chance such as this could not be discounted!

Ashwin did not share my enthusiasm for hunting the Kaati, and was rather nervous. It was his first time in a forest, so he must not be scoffed at! To add to his fears, the kid kept pointing us telltale signs of Kaati roaming the forest. Any furrows dug deep in the ground became Kaati hoofmarks for him and Ashwin began vigorously nodding with him in consent. Guess what they were talking in? Kannada my love :)

The marks on the ground could certainly be Kaati, but they seem more like the work of Wild Boar. Deep furrows in the earth, dug up plants, and a general disarray could be caused by a herd of Kaati or a sounder of Wild Boar.

The pond where Kaati come to drink

The next important event was birding in difficult terrain, read undergrowth dominated by ant hills, thick undergrowth and rotting vegetation. I didn't particularly like it because it meant looking down where i'm walking in addition to following the bird i wanted to shoot. There was somebody who called this place home, cobras! And King Cobra cannot be discounted from here because it was evergreen forest, home to these giant cobras!

Malabar Trogon

Asian Fairy Bluebird

And so, braving the prospect of a brutal death at the fangs of the cobras, bitten painfully by ants thankfully, we wended through the forest finding those elusive birds who belong in the realm of fantasy. Sounds like fun? You bet it was!

Asian Fairy Bluebird, Malabar Trogon etc to name a few were bagged in succession. Far more missed were, and these included White Bellied Blue Flycatcher, Verditer Flycatcher, and God knows what else i missed. These birds are known for their marvellous colour, and terrific difficulty in yielding a good sighting, let alone a photograph!

The passage of time of course we could never guage and neither did we try to do that either. The kid Abhinav was an adept hand at spotting birds, and was instrumental for us in bagging the Malabar Trogon.

After this midday session, there's little to report unless you want to hear of what we had for lunch, our afternoon's siesta, Abhinav waiting for us for upwards of an hour, a visit to a paddy field damaged by wild boar, and just about the other mundane things.

I thought of sitting up for the Kaati at an old bungalow at the fringe of the estate bordering the forest we had visited in the afternoon. But then when we got back home, both of us conveniently forgot about this hunt. Result? We had a BATH! As always, there's a reason the bath's written in capital bold! Kaati have a remarkable sense of smell, and the smell of our deodorants would send Kaati crashing away even before we could chance upon them :(

Sojourn!

Hello there me hearties! It feels good to get back to writing and although i write for my pleasure, i'm beginning to feel the pressure of anticipation on your part and anxiety on mine to live up to your expectations. Heck, what am i saying...? Let's get to the point...

As i last recall we were at Sakleshpur and were just a hop, skip and jump away from the final destination. As mentioned before Sakleshpur was COLD!! There's a reason i'm writing cold in capital and bold, and i'm sure you understand :)

My friend who joined me from Mangalore (his name's Ashwin) was six feet and 90 kilograms of muscle and bone; and he was trembling and shaking in his boots! So you'd imagine i would've been dead altogether of hypothermia, right? More wrong you could've never been! I had a jacket made in the White Man's nation, and it very well answered the challenge to Sakleshpur's chill. So here we were, i was at the jeep's door craning my neck out and enjoying the cool 'breeze' whilst Ashwin preferred to be buffered between me and the driver!

30 minutes of driving through Martian terrain brought us to the gates of Cullerhully Ayn Coffee Estate. Dr.H.Javid, the owner of the estate was our host for the next two days. The bungalow was a short two minute walk from the gates, and so we decided to walk it up even though both of us were 'smart' enough not to carry torches!

Picture this, a mild mist pervades across the terrain, the path is a dirt track cutting through tall, dark forest trees and shruberry dominates the base of the trees. And the land is bathed in the delightfully cool light of the moon. So bright in fact it seemed like the place was lit by a dim floodlight (i'm not kidding you!). Ah, so romantic!! Well, you could very well say that if you have forgotten the fact that this place is nestled in the Western Ghats.

"Imagine how will it be if a tiger comes across our path" mumbled Ashwin. A steady stream of steam marked his action of speaking. "I wouldn't worry much about the tigers as much as i'd worry about an elephant or a bison suddenly crossing our path" was my response. The silence was palpable after this short dialogue. But then my dear, it was 03:30 am in the morning, and sleep shuts the eyes of even carnivores at this time of the night. Elephant and bison included, but then why kill the fear factor!!!

The jeep driver had told us of elephants and bison inhabiting the surrounding forests. This is the case in most coffee estates in Southern India. They criss cross elephant migration paths, and many a times jumbo wanders into the estate causing much panic and concern!

"Yorf, yarf, yorf..." the piercing bark of a dog meant we had reached home! We later learnt we were greeted although indignantly by the President of the United States (i'm guessing you understood that the dog's name was Obama, and he had a playmate named Michelle too...)

Well, turn the clocks four hours ahead for there's nothing to write when sleep shut our eyes as well. "Good Morning", a rich, baritone voice greeted us with a large cuppa of home brewed coffee! Say hello to Dr.Javid!
He assured us of a rich bounty in terms of birds spotted in the estates early in the morning. The mist pervading in the night had lifted, and a fresh new morning greeted us with shrill bird calls, and Obama's barking...

I was rather lax in moving about in the morning given the idyllic surroundings but the prospect of bird photography egged me on!

The first bird to greet us in the morning was the Ashy Woodswallow. Not a very colourful bird, but nonetheless interesting indeed. For a few minutes we got to see a bird's idea of a warm up; after which we started the excursion in real earnest.

'Will you be mine...?" asked the Ashy Woodswallow to his mate!

I won't be giving an account of each and every bird we saw just because you'd say you're okay with this kind of armchair birding. Rather, i'll give you just enough information to generate an interest in Nature in general and respect toward our non-human neighbours; and perhaps fire a drive to protect and conserve them and their habitat.

For those who're venturing into the forest the first time for birding the first time; and that too in the Western Ghats, it can be a heckling time. Trust me, there'll never be a moment when you'd know just where to look...

'Chirp, chirp, chirp', 'Chirrup, chirrup, chripp', 'Tzeet, tzeet', 'Tswee', 'Toink, toink'...

Just a few calls illustrated out here. Multiply this by n, and this will be heard in every possible direction. A flash of green, a bolt of bright red, a shot of yellow...

"Where do i look? Where'd it go? Hey, i was looking at a yellow coloured bird, this one here's black!" will be more or less your first time's experience in the forest. I had my share of frustration and inability to spot birds in my greenhorn days, so spotting for me wasn't really that bad an experience.

The bolt of yellow!

The ghost of the Western Ghats is the Yellow Browed Bulbul, the shot of yellow! They held sway in the highest trees, and would shoot past across the trail, of course at a neck craning height for us. For upwards of two hours, our necks were craned upwards, eyes focused and mouths shut whilst the camera spoke on our behalf; and photograph after photograph followed of these magnificent inhabitants of the forest. The light was favourable as the trees had been trimmed, and the bushes kept ordered; else in an evergreen jungle shooting is the most difficult task!

Yellow Browed Bulbul

 

 

 

 

We were at the edge of the estate in a remote area when we spotted the spoors of a cat. It seemed like a medium sized animal judging by the paw prints. Leopard is the first thought that occurred to me, maybe a young fellow crossing over...

After this, we headed back home of course with strained necks and eyes, but happy and content hearts for some breakfast and some more coffee!!

Adventures down south of India...

Starting!

"Jabberjabberjabberyjabjabberjabberjabber seat kodi jabberjabberjabber gotilla jabberjabberjabber yakade hogbeku?jabber..."
Heavens, he's finally cracked! Scribbling nonsense after such a long hiatus! Surely, he's gone totally insane! Right...?

If that's what comes to your mind my dear reader, then you're totally mistaken! I lost my bearings in the worldly sense of it a loong time ago, and the jabber jabber above is what i could comprehend of a foreign tongue spoken in the southern half of India just above the state my ancestors came from, Karnataka.

A note of warning to my Kannada readers, this is in no way an insult to Kannada or Karnataka in any way, i'm just expressing my inability to comprehend your lingo! And why in God's name am i expressing this disability o' mine? Well, the story unfolds ahead. Patience my love, i'll come to the point :)

The flurry of words i tried to describe in writing were exchanged in a train headed toward Kannur, Kerala passing via Mangalore and briefly halting at a nondescript rural station named Sakleshpur.

It all started a long time in advance back here in Bom Bahia. I was having a lot of time to kill post exam and i had to go kill stress the way i knew best, which is dive headfirst into an adventure! Initially, three plans were charted, each in a different direction. These were Nainital, Little Rann of Kutch and Bangalore.

Well, the occupation hazard in adventure planning is called lack of time, and this can be detrimental if you're headed in a team. My team mates had free time when i was busy and likewise. So? Strike out plan 1 and 2. Time to pack the backpack and head south to Bangalore. I heard there was a lot of wildlife down south and easily accessible with friendly folks who'd take me there. Sounds good na? Read on lovebun...

i forget the number of people i contacted or the number of websites i checked where people said they were free to guide helpless souls like across the southern wilderness. I called, i mailed and God alone knows what else, but to no avail. You know Fate gives you a clean road to run wild but shackles you down with something or the other, well that's what happened. None of these fine gentlemen, and women could spare time during my free time for one reason or the other. Heck, people have work even if i'm free. But they did give me a list o' places i could check out in my free time. Fair 'nuff i guess, i'll get going then. Due to logistical reasons, i could not visit very many places because i was travelling alone and it could cost a bomb travelling single. Rule out these places then, what else?

And then, there was an email from a doctor writing from a really remote place. He had a coffee estate in the Western Ghats, and he had room free for adventurers interested in wildlife. Western Ghats? Read scores of birdlife, elephants, tigers et cetera, et cetera...
Good 'nuff for me, i'm going there! Yeee haaaa!

And so we set off. Off to Bangalore...

Westward Ho!

Here were are in Bangalore and all set to pack off to the Western Ghats. In the meanwhile, two members have joined in our team, and one fellow had to drop out due to sheer bad luck, actually a bad tummy which leaves us with two members in all...

I started two hours in advance for the train, and it was a good thing i did so. Traffic in Bangalore city can be a killer, and it was the Christmas weekend. There would be lots of people like me afoot, awheel, awing or whatever you call it! The ATMs were chock full, and i managed to pull out some greens for the just in case situation.
"Whether or not you know the local lingo, the image of Gandhi on a piece of paper with a numeric notation can make tongues wag and limbs move favourably for you..."
I got a ticket in the general class, read third class with good reason. It would be sheer stupidity to try to even request a reservation on a holiday weekend. Duh, i'm not the only one travelling, and not the only one endowed with numerous Gandhi papers, so...

Whatever, i reached the station and was patiently waiting for the train to arrive. Dressed every bit like a gentleman, whether or not i am one, it was painful to ask fellow travellers the direction to the general class's location. Two beautiful Coorgi belles and their mother were the first people i questioned, but definitely not about the 'general class'! "Ma'am, can you please tell me is this the platform where the Kannur Express's expected?" was my crisp question to the mother in the same lingo that this story's being written in!

The mother politely replied with a smile she didn't know either but would let me know soon enough. "Hell, why didn't i have a reservation. This was such a good ice-breaker! Imagine the company of beautiful belles for a delightful evening's..."

"Heck, return to reality brother! You're travelling third class, and they're probably going by AC! Don't you even dream of it!" screamed that voice from within, and with good reason. The third class would already be packed on the platform, and the only reservation here was for the strong and the loud.

The mother returned with an affirmative answer. She seemed eager to further the conversation, but good sense prevailed, and with a heavy heart, i fastened my backpack's waist strap, tightened the shoulder straps, and walked off briskly. Never did i see those belles again. I recollect the mother saying they were getting off at Sakleshpur, or maybe i was just fantasizing!

And now, we fast forward o'er the useless, idle waiting period right into the heart of the action. The train arrives, and it was packed already. Fuck, i thought it started from here! Whatever, plunge in what else! Tangled in a mesh of strolleys, carry bags, suitcases and long hair. Oh yes, a woman who didn't know what the 'eck was she doing. Kicks and swears were gifted to all and sundry with the Yuletide spirit in the attempt to barge into that narrow opening, and gain a small footing atleast. The local yokels had never seen a backpacker or a backpack before, so a lot of colourful words discussing the attributes of my bag and my ancestors were hotly exchanged. But then remember, i'm blissfully unaware of the meaning of the words, and even if i knew, i couldn't care. I was in the fucking train man!

Alls well now, the hatchets buried and a solemn silence was maintained for a while. And then the jabber began slowly at once, and then catching up with everyone. We're travelling to a rural place in Karnataka, and to expect them to respond in English is... you get the point right? Forget Hindi, these people couldn't speak Tamil which was spoken or atleast understood by atleast someone. Thank Heavens for my Keralite ancestry and a few pithy words in Mallu for there were two Keralite sailors on board too! I could have a piecemeal conversation with them hoping that they would spare some small mercies for me if they could!

Enter Mandya, and two colourful gentlemen entered alongwith a swarm of nondescript rurals. Read on ahead for what made them colourful.

From India to Bharat!

It was a bitterly cold evening, and it was an hour short to chime midnight. Our colourful friends had been colourful for a while but smelt not so great. Blame it on the local liquor!

The first fellow was an elderly yokel. He was silent initially as he fumbled and pushed his way into the space between two sleepers. And then the colours began to unfold slowly. He started mumbling something which then began to rise in tempo. I was totally clueless to what was happening because the lingo was incomprehensible, but my mallu friends understood and spoke Kannada. In the meanwhile, this yokel was now creating a ruckus, and that too when i was just becoming comfortable enough to sleep standing!

I too belted out a loud "FUCK OFF!" in English of course hoping the cacophony would die down. But the locals merely glanced at me, and got back to their jabberjabber!

The mallu (i forget his name, but he was a helpful chappie) in the meanwhile translated this philosophical dialogue invoking both Heaven, Hell and everything in between. Apparently, the old timer wanted a seat, and was using his old age as proof of his weakness begging and later badgering people into offering him some space to rest his 'tashreef'or arse as we know it! And the seated yokels were no kindly folk either. They said we fought over this place and won ourselves some place to sleep, and we're not entertaining drunks like you. So, get lost...

Surely, the lack of understanding of English and the exchange of colourful words in Kannada meant my exclamation simply glanced off the yokels like water off a duck's back with little or no effect.

But this 'spirited' gent was a winner, and he proved his mettle. He kept his ruckus going on until one fellow just tired of hearing his sozzled voice crammed himself into his neighbour so as to offer a slight bit of seat space. The old man was triumphant! His 'Seat Kodi' war cry had won him his prize! 'Seat Kodi' means 'give me a seat' as i learnt later.

Coming to the other 'spirited' fellow, this man was standing just next to me. He wore a towel across his shoulders as natives in South India are wont to. He made himself comfortable in the space i was standing in, next to a seat by a clever shove which could be deemed 'accidental'. The bugger had brains, it was clear...

Without the slightest compunction, he asked the poor guy sleeping on the seat "Are you getting off at Mysore?". Of course, the medium of exchange remains Kannada. The fellow was really irritated, but he merely snapped back "Illa!" which means no, nein, niente, nyet, na...

Being defeated by a glancing blow, he tried to laugh it off and looked at me expecting me to smile. He had his towel now between his teeth, and he surely looked uglier than he ever was. I would've loved to give him a good sock in the eye which would've made him sing, but this was his turf, his land. So, an icy look was all i could afford :(

Quietly, he turned back and kept looking longingly at the seat he'd never get.

The train journey was of five hours for me, and interestingly nearly 4.5 hours were replete with some incident or the other.

The next in tow was another elderly gent, and this guy looked like a school headmaster or something, or atleast a literate person. He was seated on the sleeper above, and suddenly he got off his seat. Jumping with joy, i threw my backpack over, and his neighbour, a guy who looked like a Kashmiri placed it squarely where this fellow was seated, blocking it for me. And that's when the old timer reappeared! Spiritedly, but not in 'spirits', he climbed up the ladder again back into his seat, with angry words like "Who the fcuk told you to give off my seat...?" to the 'Kashmiri'. The poor guy and i pitched in saying, you got off with your stuff, so...
Readers please understand everyone here speaks only Kannada except for me!

He was pissed off with the 'Kashmiri', and kept muttering something or the other in Kannada. Interestingly, our Kashmiri too replied in the same lingo.

The next show up in tow was a Hindi guy sleeping on the luggage rafters. He had stretched himself across the rafter rendering it useless as luggage space. As station passed station and the crowd kept increasing, people began to grumble about his abuse of space. The grumble at first raised by one man became a rumble kept up by nearly 30-40 souls. God, it was his worst nightmare for sure! It started raining bags on him, and he had to fight 'em off. Like me, he too was impaired in his lingo skills when it came to Kannada. "Arre, main so raha hoon na?" But the crowd neither understood nor wanted to understand him.

He had a blanket on him which was trailing off his reclining form. That was the butt of jokes for the moment. Some mischief monger or the other kept tugging it off him until he wrapped himself more securely than a mummy. That's when the crowd went up in a cheer loud enough to wake up those asleep. The Hindi walla was routed, and luggage was now thrown on the rafters upon him, without any noises on his part!

It was close to 1:00 am when an unfortunate bloke got off his 'secure' perch on a suitcase maybe to stretch his legs, and gave me a chance to render him seatless! The moment my tashreef encountered support, my eyelids closed and opened only at 02:15 am at Haasan, one stop before Sakleshpur, my destination in the Western Ghats.

The remaining 45 minutes i was awake for fear of missing my stopping, but Fate was kind to me and at 03:00 am, i reached a cold, foggy Sakleshpur to find my friend freezing in the cold, and our jeep driver waiting to drive us to the coffee estate where our warm beds and a good friend were waiting for us :)