Adventure!

I yearn for adventure, I crave for it. In my dreams, I'm the perpetual traveller; hopping from one continent to another in search of lost lands, climbing treacherous cliffs, photographing dangerous beasts at close quarters and later keeping them company, relishing the beauty of hidden waterfalls, fighting the tides of mighty seas in search of the beauty of marine life, so on and so forth.

I dream about a life full of adventure. And also contentment. Now, that's a rare commodity in this ill-strewn world.

On the other hand, I also dream about Peace. I dream about owning a hut by the seaside on some non-descript Pacific island. It should have basic amenities though. The beach should have perfect white sand. The sea shall always be peaceful ( No, no tsunami-like waves!) . The beach would be sun-soaked all year long. My hut shall be the most romantic in the whole wide world with an extremely good-looking, charming and wise housekeeper who , incidentally, happens to be my better half as well. There is an enchanting tropical forest in the heart of the island (It's quite big, of course! ), replete with waterfalls, streams and rivulets that offer astounding scenery. Yeah, there shall also be a variety of animals, all the good-natured ones, residing in the forest. They are my friends. This is my Perfect Island.

Well, it's time to get back to reality. Uhh, but what made me write about all this stuff?
I guess it was the trip to Bonacaud last Friday. Actually, we didn't get to see Bonacaud estate , which, of course, we didn't want to see anyway. It was the charm of waterfalls that drew us here and we left satisfied more than ever. Err, I don't remember the exact name of the waterfalls, but they were stupendous. A one-day trip may not evoke much emotions of adventure in most of us, but it was more than enough for me. I could sense adventure in every breath I took, I could feel adrenaline pumping through my veins. Heck, people might ask what is so adventurous about a 6 km trek , that is, if it can even be called a trek? I wouldn't argue but the circumstances offered quite an adventure. I won't go into the details saying I did this , I did that ,etc . It's something different, I can't quite explain the feeling. But the name's Adventure :).

I had earlier mentioned that circumstances and situations decide the course of adventure. In my last expedition, it was the complete lack of human presence in the jungle apart from us three trekkers who went tripping, plus the feeling of fending for ourselves for quite a few hours in an alien landscape subject to the vagaries of an all-marauding herd of wild elephants that made the adventure for us.

Only two others had taken the trek before us that day. That meant only 5 bloody people in the whole damn jungle. That was indeed great news. The Forest guards were initially reluctant to let us happy city-campers into the jungle and tried to scare us off with stories of wild elephants for whom stomping on a poor, hapless man's body had become the latest fad. Funny indeed. Five minutes after entering the forest, we abandoned the country road and took up the trek along the course of the rivulet. An upstream trek. The rocks were slippery and the water not so deep; it felt fun , though. After sometime , we ran into some local guys sitting by the bank and smoking up. We broke into a chat and they, for good measure, gave us survival tips on how to handle if suddenly, out of the blue, an angry disgusted-with-life pachyderm showed up before us. Smart indeed: If you are on the road, then jump into the river. That didn't scare us visibly but made us think twice about taking the road. We were planning to continue further upstream when they told us the rocks could kill if we weren't careful enough. Point taken, we marched up the banks to the country road. It's not actually a road. Instead, it is some kinda pathway made by clearing up the undergrowth and goes around some hefty rocks.

One thing I learnt from that trip is that elephants are very agile and flexible creatures. Also ones with very bad bathroom habits. Yuck. They littered the whole bloody place with their dung. You could find elephant-dung at the most impossible of places. Seriously, you have got to see it to believe it. Imagine these giants crawling up narrow pathways by the side of steep cliffs just to deposit their truckloads of dung by the wayside. Good heavens. They were everywhere. It scared the daylights out of me, I mean, if dung was ever-present, with fresh as well as old dung, then it meant only one thing. THEY were near. The place we were trekking through was one big shitting place for these big, funny creatures. You could see dung everywhere from the 2-3 feet long pathway between big rocks forming all those steep cliffs to the tiniest of gaps between the trees set in the most difficult of angles for them to reach. Still, they must have managed, right?
One determined bunch of pachyderms, I must say!

We had food and drinks on the river itself. No question of having it outside the safety of the river. Still, there was no sight of the magnificent waterfalls that I had heard so much about. We tried catching some fish, but even the fish seemed to be avoiding us. We were utterly thankful for the avoidance by the elephants but not these pesky, little fish. How very high-handed. Hm, next time, I will take along a packet of Hitachi fish food.

The trek after lunch was one mad dash to find the elusive waterfall. Finally we met the other two people who had taken the trek before us that day. Funny, some photographer-kinda guys. Did they seem inebriated? Damn serious they were.. They told us to be careful about the trek ahead since they had spotted some freak of an elephant. Phew, what news !! We were almost 6-7 kms into the jungle, hadn't spotted any elephant all along and now these guys tell us the real danger lay ahead when we were almost at the end of the trek. They left hurriedly leaving us again at the mercy of the elements of the forest. Since there wasn't any other viable option, we went ahead. And lost our way. Quite royally.We arrived at the wrong place, the wrong waterfall; the real one lay far up ahead. In fact we could see it from a distance, we knew it was there. But there was no way we could reach up there.

Not to be undone, we attempted one crazy trek by the side of the waterfall( the wrong one, as I had mentioned earlier ). It led further to the jungle. It was equitorial forest in full, splendid glory, the kind we see in all those numerous travel shows on the tube. It certainly wasn't that beautiful in real life, though. Harsh is too light a word for this one. Neither is Wild. The fact of the matter is, shortly after attempting this trek, we realised this would get us nowhere and abandoned it. That was a very wise decision. Amen.

As we pondered over the fix that we were in , yours truly chanced upon something that looked like a path that could, hopefully, lead us to the right waterfall. I hit the bull's eye there. It was the road to glory. We reached the destination. The Right waterfall was awesome. The sheer thrill and emotion of getting directly under the waterfall is something that will last you a lifetime. I could also get behind the sheet of water here because of the natural angle at which water gushed down the slope. It was Absolute Bliss. Truly so....

This one isn't that much enjoyable like the waterfall at Kalakkayam but the awesome feeling thet we had after "discovering" this one when all hope was lost at the end of a long, gruelling but exciting trek is hard to put down in a few words. I felt like a true explorer. We felt like we were the most adventurous guys on the planet. We, three city-bred spoilt brats, felt the exact emotion that David Livingstone must have went through when he discovered the Vicoria Falls. ( It is a pathetic comparison but nothing sums it up better than this :) ) And yeah, we didn't actually discover the place. The whole of humanity knows about it. But we Did discover it for ourselves on that fine Friday.

The tiresome journey back to the bikes was less interesting. But the Mystery of the Murderous Elephants of Bonacaud remained. Later , we heard that 3 people had met a rather gruesome end at the hands ( feet) of this gang of killers. These unlucky guys were bathing in the river and had the audacity to pelt stones at some thirsty members of the herd who had come to have a drink.
Well , I don't know what I would have done in such a situation. I have been lucky......

Thoughts...

"My life is my message." - MK Gandhi.

What a statement. And what a man.

I would also like to make a statement like that someday. Well, I can make that even now. Freedom of speech and expression has been lavished on us Indians due to the efforts of this humble man.
But I won't. 'Coz I don't deserve to. Most of us don't deserve to make such statements.

Still, we can make them one day. Success and fame are not requisites for that. Our lives need not be messages that we need to convey to generations of Indians growing up in every nook and corner of the country. It's outright difficult and herculean. Nevertheless, we can ensure our lives don't go to waste; our lives should be inspiring messages to all whom we call family and friends. Families maketh the society, not individuals. If all is well with the family, then society will be fine and ultimately , the nation.


Now, what got me thinking on these lines? I just don't remember !!

Mixed fare..

I have just received my relieving letters. How matter-of- fact and crisp.

They tell the story of my life for the past 8 months. I'm relieved, I should be glad. Hey, but I'm no longer employed. Still, I'm content. I should get over the feeling that I have screwed up my life. 'Coz it's far from the truth. In fact, it really is the opposite. I feel like having reclaimed my life.

I never liked my job. In fact, I absolutely detested it. The person who slogged day in and day out at the office wasn't truly me. I was always trying to come to terms with reality. I tried to adjust with it and I almost succeeded.

I never revolt. My yahoo e-mail id starts with 'firebrand' but I have never been a firebrand. I silently took it all along.

I quit for a variety of reasons. I don't need anyone's sympathy. People keep saying how I have shot myself in the foot. Indeed it may be, but then I haven't exactly put a revolver to my head and blasted my brains out, right? At least, I have my head and it's still held high. And proud.

My job was supposed to be great. One of the best and most respected brands in the world. 'Best place to launch your career' , 'Best company to work for' ...the awards and accolades have always kept rolling in... It's indeed a Dream job. And boy, was I proud? I went with a lot of dreams.

Every company in this whole wide world, no matter how great it may be, will have some inhuman departments doing real shitty and crappy work. Just my good fortune to land up in one. My dream was One big rotten apple. The apple was all golden and glitzy on the outside but the core was rotten and infested with worms of the worst kind. I realized it the first day I set foot upon my office floor.

Ever-enthusiastic and cheerful, I went about my business. The training period was no honeymoon. It gave me the rudest shock about the nature of work that I was supposed to do. I wanted to cry 'Bloody murder'. Honestly, one can't do real crappy work like this and still hype this up like it was the most entertaining and engaging work in the world. It just isn't Fair.

It was a downward spiral from then onwards. It was suffocating and I felt real oppressed. But I knew I had to bear it out, no matter whatever the cost.

My professional life was a stuttering 19th century steam engine. Sometimes it just went about surging ahead albeit for short bursts but for majority of the time, it just huffed and puffed all the way to the station, labouring for breath, amidst all the abuses showered upon it by the insolent commuters and the hard, unfeeling engine drivers. The engine was in mighty need of repairs and a fresh lease of life but no one was prepared to pay heed to its seemingly unfair and absurd demands. Ultimately, It derailed. That's about it. Fair enough.

Looking back, I feel I could have corrected myself. 'Corrected' is not quite the right word; it would be 'Changed'. But I'm of the school of thought that believes that you can't just shake off your attitude like how a snake moults its skin off. Some things are hard to change and you are better served that way.

I have left my workplace with no regrets. Perceptions... they are hard to change. I learned that the hard way. I have made mistakes and I have always taken the blame for them. Certain individuals had issues against me but they were strictly on the professional front. I'm sure everyone will remember me as a kind human who doesn't believe in hurting anyone.

I have been wronged upon; I can elaborate on what went wrong with my first episode of professional life but I don't claim to be totally innocent either. I hold no grudge against anyone.

I'm a firm believer in the inherent goodness of the human heart. I see God manifesting Himself through people. I can never learn the language of hate and enmity.

It feels good that I'm back to what I truly am. The Congenial Human in me marches on .....

Nope. It ain't writer's block.

Writer's block ?

Yup...I have it. If this is what it is, then it's bad. Real Bad. Gaaaaawwd!