Legend of 5AB - Kuldeep Manak

1^st Dec 2011

Gurgaon

“You are not Kuldeep Manka…… You are Kuldeep Manak” These were the words of then Chief Minister of Punjab Sr. Partap Singh Kairon. That’s from where the name of this legendary Punjabi folk singer originated. Manak which means Standard and it suits perfectly for Kuldeep Manak Sahib who set high standards in Punjabi singing which will never be matched. His original name was Latif Mohammad, later he got converted to Sikhism and acquired the name ‘Kuldeep Singh’.

‘Kaliyan da badshah is no more’, the whole village ‘Jalal’ went in deep sorrow when this news arrived. He was being treated at DMC hospital in Ludhiana after suffering kidney problems. He had been admitted into hospital last week after contracting pneumonia. And after a prolonged illness the music legend passed away yesterday, 30^th Nov 2011.

Born on 15th November 1949 in the village of Jalal district Bathinda, Manak was a member of musical family. Manak was of the tradition and caste of entertainers, known as Marasis. His ancestors were the hazoori raagis of Sikh religious songs for Maharaja Hira Singh of Nabha.

Kuldeep Manak was the jewel of Punjabi music industry. From recording his 1^st song at the young age of 17 in 1968 ‘Jija Akhiyan na maar…..’ to his final collaboration with Jazzy B for the album ‘Maharajas’ Manak was known for his powerful voice and perfect key.

I still remember the day when I 1^st saw his performance during a kabadi competition in our village. The love and affection of people for him and his ‘kaliyan’ is unmatched. In a village of mere 1000 population the gathering for his performance was near about 10000. ‘Tere Tile ton…..’ was an amazing performance at the event, which is my favorite also and I sang it once in our college fest.

He left behind a huge legacy of Punjabi folk music which will inspire every singer to be like him. There will never be another singer, performing anywhere close to his benchmark performances.

 “MANAK haad muka geya nawiya kaliyan di……….”

Once upon a time in a Police Station

25^th Feb 2011

Sector 9, Gurgaon

It’s been a week my car was stolen. And I am here again, in police station to get my copy of FIR. I reached police station at around 6:00PM after calling concerned person hundreds of time for it.

An Inspector was giving instructions to a group of people at the gate. Some of them had bandages over their heads and some were with broken plastered arms, few had bruise marks over the face. By their talks I understood, they had a fight over the farm waters. And after a big fight they came here for the compromise.

I got warm welcome from the SHO who was sitting in lawn under a Guava tree. He ordered for a chair to his fellow junior for me and I joined him with two of his colleagues. He then ordered a boy to bring my FIR from inside, and then asked him to get a photocopy of the same to keep it in records. He went out and I had to wait for him to return.

Meanwhile an old lady came to the police station. She was there because her son ran away with her neighbor’s daughter. From their chat I came to know that it was not the 1^st time that his son ran away with a girl and that too with the same girl. She was talking so comfortably with SHO about the incident like that it’s a routine for her.

“I can’t do anything…… They will come back after some time” SHO replied to her requests for some action.

“But the neighbors are threatening me of unfavorable consequences if their daughter doesn’t returns home…… From where can I bring them?” She said smilingly.

“Then what should I do? Last time also you brought them back…… This time also you can do that” SHO was stiff.

“They will break my head and you are saying you can’t do anything” She replied to his ‘can’t do anything’ attitude but the SHO was firm on his part that he won’t move from his chair.

She continued for some time and finally gave up and moved out with a smiling face, the way she entered. 

On the backdrop a police vala was shouting at a girl, a boy was accompanying her.

“Do your parents know this?”

“Sorry Sir, We were just coming back from our tuition” She replied with her eyes filled to the brims.

“Then what were you doing there……. Behind the railway track?” He was shouting aloud. May be he caught them in some compromising position from somewhere. I noticed that he has already slapped the boy. And now he was asking for their parent’s phone number.

I asked for where about’s of the boy who went for a photo copy of my FIR and SHO asked the same from his junior but nobody has any clue about that.

Meanwhile a lady came to SHO and started crying before saying anything. She told her story with more than needed tears. Her earlier landlord was threatening her. They had a doubt that she had stolen their jewelry while leaving for another home. And one can easily judge from her face that she was innocent. She wants SHO to send somebody with her to talk to her landlord. I was feeling pity for the poor lady but our SHO was still the same.

“We can’t go with everybody like this on such small complaints. Otherwise who will sit here, there is already a shortage of manpower. Go inside and give a written complaint. Write everything that you told in it” He ordered her to go inside without changing his instance.

At the backdrop that inspector was still shouting, but this time on that girl’s mother. “Can’t you control your children…… Don’t you know where they are going….. You people are responsible for all the shit happening around and then we have to take the blame if some thing wrong happens……. You can’t control a child then expect us to control whole of the city” He continued and the lady was just standing there with her head down.

After waiting for almost an hour at last that photocopy boy was back. And I thanked to SHO for the FIR and that entertainment before moving out. That girl and her mother was walking ahead of me while coming out, girl was walking 10 steps behind her mother to save herself from the burn. 

The police vala’s were still sitting there proudly. Don’t know for what? Either they did a great job in handing over my FIR copy, or listening to that ever smiling lady or not helping that poor Tenant or showcasing their power on a little girl and her mother.

The Monk Sold His Ferrari for us

It’s the best inspirational book among all I read and I think it’s a must read by everyone. If you don’t have much time to read this book then I have penned down few lessons it taught us……

• Everything happens for a reason.
• I can’t love you if I cannot love me.
• When the student is ready, the teacher appears.
• Investing in yourself is the best investment you will ever make.
• I am an artist at living – my work of art is my life. (Suzuki)
• Your I can is more important than your I.Q.
• With one eye fixed on the destination, there is only one left to guide you along the journey.
• Find out what you truly love to do and then direct all your energy towards doing it.
• Everything is always created twice, first in mind and then in reality.
• Imagination is more important than knowledge. (Einstein)
• There is nothing noble about being superior to some other person. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self. Run your own race.
• Every second you spend thinking about someone else’s dreams you take time away from your own.
• Only those who seek shall find.
• He who serves the most reaps the most.
• The purpose of life is a life of purpose.
• If you can’t laugh at yourself who can you laugh at?
• Never regret what has happened in the past.
• Kaizen – This Japanese word means constant and never ending improvement.
• Life favors the prepared mind.
• I am more than I appear to be, all the world’s strength and power rests inside me.
• Life is too short to make every mistake on your own. Try to learn from others mistakes often.
• The Ten Rituals of Radiant Living –

1. Ritual of Solitude – ensure to include a mandatory period of peace in daily schedule
2. Ritual of physicality – As you train your body, train your mind also
3. Ritual of Live Nourishment – Good Diet
4. Ritual of Abundant Knowledge – Knowledge is power
5. Ritual of  Personal Reflection – Know yourself (Your Talent)
6. Ritual of sunbath – Wakeup early
7. Ritual of Music
8. Ritual of the Spoken Word – Mantras work
9. Ritual of a Congruent Character – Take daily, incremental action to build your character
10. Ritual of Simplicity

An A4 printout of these lessons is gracing my office cubicle. It will be great if I will be able to implement few of them in my life.
Thanks Mr. Robin S. Sharma

Peepal

Kaju Fenny is good. It doesn’t have much alcohol content as of Whiskey but hits hard if taken in quick succession (2 persons one bottle 15 minutes). Either it’s the affect of Fenny or the driver of our bus was habitual of driving rash. We were coming back from the North Goa tour arranged by our hotel when the driver made a sharp cut to the right; we were sitting at the last seat so the affect of jumps and turns was bit more. I looked back and noticed, it’s not driver’s mistake but a tree in the middle of the road. That’s from where this interesting conversation started.

“Why these stupid fellows don’t cut these middle-road trees” As always I was annoyed on that and elaborated more about many peepal trees existing in the middle of the roads in Gurgaon, which causes fatal accidents numerous times.

“We should not cut them” Yogesh said.

“Why? Because we Indians worship Peepal……. Is that the only reason?” I asked.

“Do you know why we worship peepal?” Yogesh was calm as always. We always have interesting conversations between us and I think we both enjoy it also. This time also I knew that there was something interesting coming up.

“I will say because of our superstitions, as people say Devi-Devtas reside underneath it” I replied in funny tone.

“NO” He replied with his finger dwindling in big pendulum motion.

“Style marna chhod and explain it further” I stiffened him with the seat back to avoid him moving with the bus vibrations.

“Majorly the plants give oxygen during day and release carbon dioxide during night. But Peepal is one of those few plants which release Oxygen all through 24 hours. That’s the reason behind worshiping Peepal initially but now people are just following their traditional values without knowing the reason behind it” He replied and I was amazed because I didn’t know it.

“How is it possible?” 

And Google baba answered all my queries. I searched on my mobile and got this.

‘Most plants largely uptake Carbon dioxide (CO2})and release oxygen during the day (photosynthesis) and uptake oxygen and release CO2 during the night (respiration). Some plants such as Peepal tree can uptake CO2 during the night as well because of their ability to perform a type of photosynthesis called Crassulacean Acid Metabolism (CAM). However, it is not true that they release large amounts of oxygen during the night.’

“Have you ever noticed those white threads wrapped around peepal……?” Yogesh asked and I nodded.

“Those are for identification of peepal tree during night…… As we know in older times there were no lights and people usually travel on feet from one village to other. So, if somebody is travelling during night then these threads can help him identifying peepal tree for rest underneath it. And now a day’s people are following it as worship method blindly” He explained.

“Those were the older times but now we can’t put human life in danger to get some extra oxygen….. After all safety is utmost important in engineering point of view also” I tried to keep my upper hand in the argument by pulling our engineering into it.

“Then we should plan our colonies and roads accordingly” Here comes the funniest reply by Yogesh.

“Come-on yaar……. You can’t say to the builders that 1^st check out all the peepal trees in the area then go ahead with your Road-maps and all” I was still bursting into laughter.

Till then even our co-passengers also involved themselves into the discussion and they too are giving their valuable comments.

“Then you are saying that we should cut down trees…….. And what about environment safety” One senior fellow in the bus threw the question.

“No no…… I am not in favor of cutting down trees. But the one’s which are dangerous for the humans should be pulled down definitely……. And for the oxygen you can plant more trees…. Peepal is not the only answer to this”

“And moreover do you really think that this extra oxygen is the reason behind those peepal trees in the middle of the roads……. No my dear friends…… It’s our superstitious nature”

“What about Trans-plantation of those trees?” Yogesh came with a new logic.

“Dude…… Economics…… Do you really think it is economically viable…… and moreover these big people trees are hard to Trans-Plant” I replied.

Our arguments had not stalled but our bus has reached its destination and we moved out saying good bye to the fellow passengers. We moved towards our hotel passing by the Peepal tree at our right whose leaves were making strong noise on that windy night as if they were laughing at us, and saying ‘In India our life is still very long’

Exploring the D of Delhi - Sultanpur a Birdy Retreat

19 Feb 2011
Sultanpur

“Hey Aman look at this” Neiha came running to me, interrupting my photography session on the lake shore. I picked up my tiny self from the muddy grass and went close to her to avoid her entering into the muddy area. “Wow…..snake skin!” I exclaimed on holding the snake skin in my hands, about 4 feet in length and that was not complete. The owner snake of this veil must be longer than 6-8 feet.

Difficult Mission

Well, now to say Sultanpur Bird Sanctuary is located in Gurgaon District of Haryana State, Sultanpur is located at about 50 kms distance from Delhi and 15 kms from Gurgaon on the Gurgaon -

Farukh Nagar Road

. But it took hell lot of efforts to reach there. You may be wondering if a Gurgaon resident is finding it so difficult then how the hell someone from outside reach there.

We started from sec-30 Gurgaon at 8:00AM. As we entered into the old Gurgaon from Rajiv Chowk a big signboard stating ‘Sultanpur Bird Sanctury – 15Kms greeted us and we were happy that just 15kms and we will be there.

I had heard that Sultanpur is pretty accessible from Delhi and Gurgaon but after the trip I can say it’s like a mission impossible. From Delhi the route is pretty straight till Gurgaon. Then, you have to enter old Gurgaon from Rajiv Chowk (Exit No. 10 from

Express Way

). Driving through old Gurgaon is a terrible eyesore. All the Market and houses built in desi style are haphazard and ugly with no design element. Adding to this are the miserable roads.

We didn’t know the exact turn for the

Farukh Nagar Road

so I asked from a petrol pump worker “Bhayiya yeh Sultanpur Lake ka rasta konsa hai?”

He got bit confused, thought for a while “Wo to pata nahi par ek jheel jarur hai…… Sultanpur jheel…..aur wo piche reh gayi hai” And he directed us on the right way.

Apparently the sewerage work was going on so all the area was dug up by the MC. People say new Gurgaon is a jungle of Glass & concrete and I will say old Gurgaon is all about non-existing roads and flowing nallas.

Finally coming out of the old Gurgaon mess we entered into rural Haryana which was much nicer and somewhat cleaner. The road condition improved a bit. The road cut through lush green fields made alive by the lot many birds. Tall under construction residential towers can be seen from the road which belongs to the outskirts of Gurgaon extension.

Delight for Bird watchers 

As a bird sanctuary it was the find of Peter Jackson, famous orthologist, and Honorary Secretary of the Delhi Bird-watching Society, who wrote to Prime Minister of India, Indira Gandhi  in 1970 about the need to declare the Sultanpur jheel near Delhi a bird sanctuary. She instructed the Chief Minister of Haryana to protect the jheel and in 1972, the Sultanpur Bird Reserve was established. And almost 20 years later in 1989 the reserve was upgraded to a National Park.

Approx 250 species of Birds are found at Sultanpur Bird Sanctuary. Some of them are resident, while others come from distant regions like Siberia, Europe and Afghanistan. Obviously we four don’t have any idea about the birds and their species, a bird photographer came to our help in that, who explained us many things about many species which we could not digest all. Our bird watching started with a good note from the Babblers nest and then black drongo’s and many more which I do not remember.

After spending some time at initial photography of the whole sanctuary from the watch tower we took the brick path laid for park visitors all around the sanctuary. There were four watch towers in total for the broader view of the sanctuary.

Blue-cow

As we proceeded for the lively bird area we were stopped in our tracks- it was a stark and shocking sight- an entire Nilgai skeleton- all bones only the meat was missing. The old beast lay there one leg at an angle and head still held high. It looked like it had been eaten up by village dogs gone wild. These once domesticated felines are said to roam free in the park in packs following their age-old instincts.

Suddenly the lake water jostled and we were stunned by the sight of an entire herd of Nilgais emerging out of the island on our right. Out they came in a single file and started walking to the left.

Island of Mud

We decided to walk through the muddy area to the island. This was not really a good idea for two reasons. We were not dressed to walk through the gooey mud. Second, the entire area was abundant in Indian Babul trees and other thorny buses. Here is where I get bitten by something which made my arms break out in some itchy rash and also step in the heaps of Nilgai dung. Our shoeprints dotted the exposed lake floor all over, in all directions.

By now it was almost 3 hours we had been inside the park. Listening to the call of the parched throat, we started back and rushed into the welcome cooled environs of the restaurant. But we left from there soon after entering because of not so hostile staff.

Did I say our journey ended there? Nope. On the way back as we discussed the merits and demerits of the photo collection, Vicky screeched the car to a halt next to a road-side dhaba. Once fortified with food and some cricketing action, we decide to start back to our homes. We jumped into the car bidding Good Bye to Sultanpur.

oFFice oFFice

Its 11:00 am and all the government offices, Banks and all were just opening up now. It was complimentary off for 2 hours on the occasion of Raksha Bandhan in all the government organizations. I was the 1^st in the queue of water bill submission, not for submitting the bill but for the complaint. I was here with my sister; she had paid her water bill last month but still these govt. authorities had sent this month’s bill with addition of previous month’s bill and fine for not submitting it on time (That’s quite common mistake by the officials).

As the billing window open, after few minutes of argument the bill collector at last agreed to check his records. That too of no use, as his records were also showing that we have submitted the bill on time and the bank also processed the same. So he asked me to go to MC office to rectify it because it’s their mistake and they need to update their records.

I have travelled 5kms to oriental bank office and now need to go to MC Head office nearly 10 kms away at another corner of Patiala and that too because of no mistake of mine. As we reached MC office, I was so surprised on seeing the condition of the office. I came at the inauguration of this building 7-8 years ago with my friend; his father was at some high position in MC so we got the passes for the function. At that time we admired the architecture of the building, it was designed so beautifully for a government office’s use. But now I felt pity on its condition, water logging at the entrance, floor tiles worn out badly, doors and windows were like smashed by a bomb blast, and garden was full with wild bushes; grass has not been shown a blade from last many months. Thank god lift was working, but it will scare the hell out of you once you step into it.

I asked the gate keeper for the concerned person and got the reply “Andar Chale jayo”.

Inside it looked more like a warehouse of files than an office. The entrance was aisled both sides by Elmira’s with the worn out files hanging outside and above them. I wonder in this technology driven decade what the hell these files are doing here. As we turned to the left towards working area, It reminds me of my school staffroom which is still pictured in my mind regarding the fact I had seen that 12-15 years back. Wooden tables with metal legs and drawers have been placed in L shape with piped chairs weeded with plastic strips. 

70% of the tables were still to be occupied, rest 30% are just been occupied. I looked around for a helping hand and asked an old fellow regarding my complaint, he directed me towards an empty table. “That place, Wait there”

We moved to the assigned table. I have to look for a comfortable chair as almost all the chairs were in bad condition and some of them were held in position with jugaad. The table in front of me is having glass top of it having pictures of almost all the devi-devtas and calendar of last two years along with this year’s calendar. I wonder if the person sitting here is keeping record of the previous years or will plan his year ahead depending upon his past records.

Three mid aged persons were sitting next to us discussing the current affairs holding pieces of today’s newspaper. I think there’s only one newspaper in this office and that is being circulated in every body’s hands in pieces till they crammed it all. After making us wait for 20 minutes one of them slid his chair to us for hearing our concern. I was surprised that why the fellow has waited for such a long time to shift to us if he knew we were waiting for him only. He looked at few files called few persons and told us that it’s a typing mistake by computer operator and will be modified. He asked us to wait for few minutes as the operator starts the computer.

15 minutes have been passed and I was tired looking at the people around wasting time in stupid chat some females on the back table discussing about their suits and some newly opened fabric shop in some market. One old aunty was talking on from last half an hour and so loud as if she is talking with a person on the opposite roof. I asked the same fellow who was busy in the newspaper and got a reply “wait, computer garam hoan nu time laganda”. I was astonished that is it a super computer or what? It reminds me of my school days when we used to think that there will be a big computer in some corner of the world where all the data is stored.

We had no option other than to wait for the computer to heat up. I was scanning parts of the building, not even a single window pane is in good condition, and all the curtains are hanging only from one or two points, saw a big mouse entering through the window and jumping over files placed atop of an Elmira. An electric heater placed in a corner used for the tea making but dangerously plugged in a broken switchboard.

I asked him again after waiting for 10 more minutes. He called some body and told me that it will take few more minutes as computer is in the basement and a person is already there to start it. I urged him to be quick and asked why the computer is placed in the basement when they have so much space here only. On his reply I got to know that he is not talking about the computer but the server room. For him all this is a one thing called computer. And none of the persons sitting there knows anything about computer and they have hired a computer operator for doing small jobs of data feeding in it.

After waiting for around two hours and computer was still in the process of heating up, I requested him for some other option and he took our complaint on a paper and assured us to put it in records when the computer starts. I had no trust on that person if I will do this task properly but had no other option. We have to wait for next month’s bill to make sure whether our complaint has been done or not. We took stairs to come down from the third floor instead of that scary lift.

I thanked GOD that I am not working in a govt. office, and thanked my MNC for providing me such good work facilities.

Being Indian

17-July-2011

CP-Delhi

“India nahi sudhrega” those were the words by Gaurav who has just returned from S.Korea last week.

We were walking towards ‘The Embassy’ restaurant in CP for dinner. Humpy and Ashish were few steps ahead guiding us. Me, Neiha & Gaurav following them.

Gaurav commented on seeing a pan/Gutka peek filled corner and I nodded in agreement.

‘Few Hours Later’

After dinner, we were chatting while enjoying the cool breeze outside the restaurant. I and Kapoor went to the other side of the street to fetch some ice-cream (Feast – my favorite) for everyone from the ice-cream vendor.

After a minute, the place around us was decorated a bit more with the feast wrappers (I used the word “bit more” because It was already decorated with disposable plates/Glasses, Polythene packs etc.). Out of us five, only I and Neiha were having those wrappers in our hands. Gaurav was the first one to contribute to the dirty picture of India, Humpy and Kapoor followed him.

As of my habit, I couldn’t stop myself from complaining, so “India ka to pata nahi…….. But Indians nahi sudherenge” my first words.

Everyone was silent at first and then laughed after understanding my taunt. As always Humpy was quick to respond. He picked up his wrapper and put it in my shirt pocket.

“Show me the dustbin here….. Otherwise take it home along”.  Everyone was looking around including me if we can find any dustbin around to shut his mouth. At last, at a distant site across the road I saw a dustbin in the inner circle of CP about 50-70 meters away.

“Who will go there….. I am not going…. If you want you can……. Moreover look around, there are hundreds of things littering around, what difference will this tiny wrapper make in this already dirty place.”  Gaurav throw the wrapper down from my pocket.

“I agree that there are not enough dustbins in this area. Why to talk about CP only, I had never seen a dustbin in ISBT Delhi also. Infact, this story is same all over the country. But that doesn’t mean we go on littering and spiting all around the place. At least do as much as you can. You can keep this wrapper in your pocket and there are dustbins in metro stations. You can dispose them there; But you wouldn’t do that, after all you are also an Indian.” Neiha got aggressive.

Everybody picked up their wrappers from the ground and the talks went on. Everyone contributed in blaming the government, the population, the people and at last the whole Indian system.

After few minutes we moved towards metro station to catch the last metro to our respective places. It was just 2-3 minutes walk and Gaurav couldn’t wait that much so he put his wrapper in my back pocket; Humpy tugged his wrapper in the security barricade’s sand bags outside Metro station. They proved it again ‘Indians nahi sudhrenge’

INCREDIBLE !NDIA - BIJLI MAHADEV

16th MAY 2011

Kullu, one of the most exotic hill stations of India is situated in the state of Himachal Pradesh. This place is a hot spot tourist-visiting hub and is well known as 'Silver Valley' of Himachal Pradesh.

Bijli Mahadev Temple situated in Kullu is quite popular among local people but tourists like me don’t know much about it. I have been to Manali 5-6 times, but never heard about Bijli Mahadev Temple. This time I get to know about it from my skiing guide in Rohtang Pass. After hearing about its beauty and strange phenomenon of lightning I was desperate to visit this place.

I started from my Hotel early in the morning so that I can reach back before 4:00 O’clock in the evening to catch my bus at 5:00 O’clock. I already had booked a Royal Enfield for the journey from bikers point on the left bank of Beas on

Rohtang Road

. The guy reached well on time 6:30am with the 2009 model Bullet Electra. The condition of the bike is not that great, my own 2002 model Bullet is far better than this, but it’s OK because you need ample time to search for a rented bike in good condition which obviously I didn’t had. At around 7:00AM I was on the road, as I left Manali the road condition was good but it deteriorated a lot as I moved close to Kullu.

From outskirts of Kullu after crossing the fly bridge I took a left turn upside the hill and the whole view was different from there onwards. Bijli Mahadev Temple is situated at some 15 KMs from there and the road to that was very narrow only a single 4-wheeler can travel through that and you have to look for the space to overtake or cross another vehicle. But that problem does not arise much because vehicular activity there was very less. 

On this trail you get great views of the Kullu valley and will spot small houses clinging to the hillsides. The entire walk is through dense forests and apple orchards by passing a few quaint villages. It’s been more than 2 hrs. And I was travelling at nominal speeds of 20-30 Km/Hr when the road abruptly comes to an end. Then I got to know from the nearby & only shopkeeper there that this is the end of the road and from here onwards I have to trek to the Temple.

The trek begins from the small village ‘Hanerri’ and goes along a mountain ridge high above the River Beas. A holy darshan of the temple requires a hefty voyage of 3 kilometers on foot, which is quite tiresome but I enjoyed it because I love to trek on torturous hills. The uphill path towards this sacred shrine is flanked by pine trees and few apple orchards that make the stride a pleasant one. I noticed one strange thing that the hill has a great population of different varieties of Lizards mostly the big ones. After passing through roughly crafted way with mare walking and somewhere with stone stairs you will reach on the flat hill top which looks like a golf course in between the pine trees. Dotted by two small natural water bodies which originated by the melted snow from the hill the place looks so mesmerizing. The sparkling Hill houses the pictorial view of the luxuriant valley below was breathtaking.

Situated atop of this majestic hill Bijli Mahadev, the temple dedicated to Lord Shiva (2460m). The Bijli Mahadev Temple is truly an architectural marvel and is very well crafted. It is adorned with a 60 feet high “staff” which is visible from near by Kullu and Parvati valleys also. The door frames of Bijli Mahadev Temple have delicate and superb carvings. Two wooden Nandis / bulls face the temple door stood like strong guards.

Bijli Mahadev temple is called the ‘Temple of Lightening’ as it is believed that its staff (wooden pole of deodar) attracts divine blessings, in the form of lightening, from presiding deity Lord Shiva. Thousands of travelers gather at this place every year, for a fair held in the hindu month of ‘Shravan’.

According to a legend, Maharishi Vashishta prayed to Lord Rudra to absorb the excessive electric current within him. Lord Rudra acceded to his request and absorbed the electricity current, saving humankind. The incident is believed to have taken place at the confluence of Parvati and Beas rivers. Later, a temple was erected at the sight, in commemoration of the event. A stone phallus was enshrined inside the temple and named as Bijleshwar Mahadev or Bijli Mahadev.  

In another anecdote, every year, there is a frightful lightning and the 'Shiv lingam' gets reduced to pieces. It is believed that Lord Shiva absorbs the energy discharged from the atmosphere and saves the world. After the incident, the temple priest collects all those pieces and puts them into “satto” and butter. The image is restored to its original oneness until another similar flash repeats the miracle and in this way, the cycle goes on. The work of resetting the 'lingam' is carried out in secrecy by the temple pujaris and the temple employees.

After spending 2 hrs at the temple capturing the nature’s beauty in my camera I started my back journey. It took me 35 minute to come down instead of 2 hrs to reach to temple. For next half an hour I took some rest at the shop where I parked my bullet and had a good chat with the shop owner which provided me this above written history of the temple and much more. At around 3:40PM I reached back to my hotel and at 5:00 O’clock I said good bye to Beautiful Manali with a promise to come again and to explore some new places.

INCREDIBLE !NDIA - Whispering Valley

After the hectic overnight travel from Delhi to Manali (More than 500 KMs) through NH1 and NH21 we checked in to our hotel at around 1:00PM. All of the

Mall Road

of Manali was completely dig up by MC dept. for sewer work which dampened our mood a bit. But we were too tired for anything and opted for an afternoon nap.

If Manali had been approachable by rail then it had been great for tourists and for the local business. But the nearest broad gauge railheads are at Chandigarh (315 km) and Kalka (310 km). The nearest narrow gauge railhead is at Joginder Nagar (135 km). The nearest airport is at Bhuntar, which is about 50 km from Manali. So for us Volvo Bus was the only good option which turned out to be very torturous.

After having bath and a late lunch we moved out for an evening walk to the mall road. But the evening walk was made difficult because of this mess created by MC and the weekend rush of tourist. Less than 30% of the space is left for walking rest all is converted into big pits by the cranes. So we decided to sit in an open air restaurant and enjoy the Mall road evening from there only. This was an Italian restaurant so there obvious best will be Pasta’s and we ordered same. While we were waiting for the order my eyes stuck at an old man wearing formals and old DevAnand style cap sitting on a bench in the park in front of the restaurant. He seemed to be a local guy from to Manali. As of my habit I took time from Neiha and moved towards that old man for a small chat.

“Excuse me Sir, can I join you” I asked politely. And he just nodded without saying any word and I sat beside him on the wooden table.

“Hello Sir, you seem to be a localite here” I started conversation after few seconds wait.

“Yes, I belong to kullu city and living here in Manali from last 40 years.” He took a long pause. “I have two hotels here and own a restaurant also.” The good/bad thing about old people is once they open up and start talking they don’t stop.

“Where are you from?” He inquired a bit about me and then after seeing my curiosity he started telling me about the history of Manali.

“Manali belongs to the Kullu district and situated at an altitude of 8612 feet” He laughed after seeing my surprised expressions.

“Sir, If somebody ask me about my home town Patiala I won’t even be able to tell him its distance from delhi and you know the altitude of Manali” I questioned.

“I was a tourist guide. I started my life journey at a young age as a tourist guide in seventies. Allow me to tell you in detail……. If you have time”

“Yes, of course” I looked at Neiha. Pasta’s have arrived at our tables, but I found this conversation more interesting than the Italian pasta’s.

“Manali is all about natural beauty. But modern day Manali history belongs more precisely to the Britishers. They made this beautiful land their choice for staying during the summer months. They brought forth the apple orchards and trout fishing to Manali that largely shaped the economy of this place. It was the British people settling here, which developed Manali as a tourist destination” His knowledge about Manali and way of telling made sure that he has been a tourist guide for quite long. Neiha was calling me with strong gestures but I ignored them and concentrated on this interesting conversation.

“My father was a farmer, we had small farm near Kullu itself. Now, even I can’t find that place because it is submerged in Kullu city and our farm land has lost its existence in the modernization” He continued and I was thinking if this beautiful valley has taken a toll of modernization then why we are blaming it for its toll on metros…….. That’s quite obvious.

“The hills of Manali offer stunning landscape so it was a hot spot for the tourism from the start. Basic business of local people here is the tourism, rich people had hotels, restaurants, apple orchards etc. and the one like us became tourist guides.” He sipped some water from its sipper bottle and continued.

“During the seventies and Eighties Manali was stained with the cultivation of marijuana that attracted the development of a hippie culture that was looked down by the conventional tourists. Even youngsters like us followed suit and indulge in those unlawful activities. But with government’s sharp steps and laws it all went down slowly. Still there are places in Manali and around which are popular among the foreigners for there hippie culture.” He drove into silence as if he gets lost in his past memories.

“With the rise of turmoil in the Kashmir valley, the tourists turned to Manali again as the landscape and beauty of the two places matches each other.” He paused for a bit again this time to catch his breath.

“I worked really hard to reach the position where I am today. I had never been to school have no education but literate enough to decide the right and wrong. Initially I worked as a tourist guide in Kullu then shifted to Manali and today I have 2 hotels, a restaurant and a big apple orchard. And my fellows who didn’t come out of the unlawful activities then are nowhere now.” He became bit emotional remembering his old times.

On my question about the Name of Manali he replied like a well educated person. I must say experience matters a lot.

“Manali history is just like a fairy tale that is more in myth than in reality. The existence of Manali can be traced back to the times of Mahabharata. The name 'Manali' literally means the abode of Manu (The god of Law). Manali is the place where Manu found refuge. Back in the 17th century, Raja Jagat Singh brought the idol of Lord Raghunathji to his throne and till now, he is the presiding deity and king of Manali”

“The colorful tales and saga of the mythological existence of Manali will remain in the heart of the lovely innocent people of the Manali” Few minutes of silence and a big smile covers his wrinkled face.

“OK beta, its time now. I will move” He stood up and without waiting for my good bye he moved out of the park. May be he gets emotional and wants to go deep into his memories and enjoy them alone.

The end of the meeting was so fast and abrupt that I didn’t get time to ask his name. But surely will remember him for always.

The dark was spreading around and the beautiful oil lamps in the park were put into life spreading the yellow all around. Neiha had already left for a stroll in the Tibetan market just adjacent to the restaurant; I joined her hurriedly with a big smile on my face. Now I was feeling more familiar to the valley and it seems like every nook and corner of it was whispering his story in my ears.