A morning in Shimla

 

 

 

 

 

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Alchi - an Inside story

Its been more than a year since I started writing my column Inside Story for the Metro Plus, a supplement of The Hindu . The column which appears every alternate Monday is not a destination piece nor is it a personalised travelogue. It is a story that is intrinsic to the destination or an aspect of the destination that is not normally experienced by an average tourist . Sometimes the stories lend themselves to people, for it is people who make places. Ive written quite a few Inside Stories and yet have posted very few in my blog. So I thought of posting some of my earlier published stories here. This one is about Alchi, the most ancient Gompa in Ladakh which was published last Monday .


As you drive down Ladakh, you see several monasteries or Gompas hanging silently from a cliff or sloping down from a peak. They often look like fortresses with prayer wheels and mani walls built around them. But Alchi is a bit different from the rest. Lying in a village of the Indus valley on a plain, this ancient gompa is neither imposing nor is it full of life.

For a first timer , it is just another sleepy hamlet with a few random houses thrown in, a lone shop selling artifacts and a couple of lamas sitting under an apricot grove exchanging conversations. And hidden amongst these silent houses is the oldest monastery of Ladakh which houses some of the most unique paintings .


The monastery lies in the chos khor or monastic complex of four separate monuments, and is deemed to be very different from the rest in terms of architecture and monastic order. The Gompa nestled in a courtyard is connected by narrow alleys that lead to several small shrines with wooden pillars and walls that brightly display paintings like the Thousand Buddhas and the wheel of life. Looking at every wall with a torch, these paintings do not look like the typical Ladakhi images as we see in the other monasteries .

Inspired by the Kashmiri tradition, the monastery complex was built, by Guru Rinchen Zangpo around 10th century. However, according to the inscriptions ,it is attributed to a Tibetan noble called Kal-dan Shes-rab who is said to have built it in the next century.

A fusion of the artistic and spiritual aspect of both Hinduism and Buddhism is seen in the wall paintings of this monastery while the Kashmiri style is also seen in the Dukhang or assembly hall and the main temple , Sumstek which is a three storied dedicated to the three incarnations of Buddha - Avalokiteshwara, Maitreya and Manjushree. We cannot see the heads of these deities as they stand in the first floor and there is no access to reach there .

The monastery which was discarded as a religious order actually escaped the invasion of Ladakh by Ali Mir, a ruler from Baltistan in the17th century, a war that almost brought Buddhism to an end in Ladakh. While the king Jamyang was taken prisoner, a popular legend says that he was restored his throne after a secret marriage with one of Ali Mir�s daughter , Gyal katun. While historians refute the story, the legend says ladakhis even accepted the new queen as an incarnation of the White Tara.


However ,legends not withstanding, Buddhism flourished in ladakh and more monasteries were built, but it was much later in 1970s the unique paintings were discovered in Alchi, a village that had been ignored for centuries. A lone lama sits guard in front of the main Gompa holding on to his prayer wheel . A Gompa means a solitary place and as I walk past it, I realize the true meaning of solitude .

Messaging - the American way

 

Recently my mother in law had some visitors. A couple of guys had come home , asking for details wrt the census. These guys were going from door to door, knocking on homes, asking for details . While I was in New York last month, the census activity was on as well. I do not know how the process works there, but what I did see was an advertising campaign where messaging was loud and clear - on bill boards, buses and even in subways asking people to cooperate wrt the census. For instance - the message on this hop on hop off bus says it all. Incidentally I saw quite a few buses with the Incredible India campaign on it.

America America - 2

Overheard at JFK while waiting in the long queue for the immigration clearance - "Papa , yeh airport bada hai but achcha nahin hai. Sirf decorations achcha hai." The kid is obviously not fascinated by the airport and the father looks tired . Standing behind me is another couple from India and their infant just starts screaming out of hunger. The mother hurriedly prepares the bottle of milk and tries to comfort her baby . Another child stares at the crying baby and dragging her backpack, she looks at her mother and says, " Innum evala neram ? " She needs to use the washroom urgently. Her mother , meanwhile is worried on two accounts - the kid's grandmother who was wheeled in is now lost in the crowd and they have a connecting flight in the next hour or so and they still need to collect their luggage and go through the check in process. " But didnt you check in your luggage directly to your destination ?" I asked her as she was transiting through JFK ." No, I cant, this is some American security procedure as its JFK, " she says.

Looking around me , I dont just see Indians in the visitor's queue but an amalgamation of nationalities. Some are transiting, while for many like me, it is their first trip to US. I wasnt surprised to see the number of Indians around me. US was always on every aspirational Indian's list and I remember as a teenager picturising the suburbs where the Indian diaspora lives as an upscale version of Pondy Bazaar . After all, there is Saravana Bhavan everywhere . However I pinched myself out of my reverie and told myself " Come on, Im in America, in JFK, THE airport , in New York City,..." and all I felt was exhaustion as I waited for my turn for the stamp.

A traveller's diary has to begin somewhere. A date, an incident, a thought..mine probably started in Chennai at the visa office or even much earlier when I applied for the visa.The interview itself was a cake walk, except that you still need to get burnt in the sun even though procedures say you can come a few minutes before your interview. A couple of girls waited with me in the queue for the interview - one was attending a conference and another was going there on a project. No prizes for guessing, they were both from IT. " Are you going on work ?" one asked. " No, as a tourist, " I replied and found myself saying the same thing to the US official clad in a kurta and peering through his glasses at my passports and looking for an excuse to deny me a visa. I looked nonchalant and then came the question, " Do you work ?"
I said, "as a consultant yes, not for a corporate. " "Thats still work " he quipped , probably suggesting that I am lying to him about my reason to visit US .I shrugged and a few moments passed as he flipped through the passports and looked at the stamps of various nations. And then he smiled , looking at an Australian stamp way back in 1992. " Ah !youve been to Australia, what were you doing there ?" He probably thought I was a student there . " A tourist again," I replied, and added " I like travelling to places..thats my passion and I do some bit of travel writing as well.." I chose not to elaborate further and he nodded and decided I was speaking my truth . Just as I was leaving, he suddenly asked " Do you have kids ?" When I answered in the negative, he smiled and apologised for the question and added inadvertently," Im always asked the same question too..been married for many years and I dont have kids..collect your passport later. " I smiled . He was just doing his job, I guess.

But the man at the immigration counter was a different cup of tea. He was clearly bored and looked irritated. He had just finished asking a lady from the Middle east a barrage of questions and when it was my turn, he just signaled he was taking a break. I waited for another ten minutes and finally he was back and gestured me to come over. I handed my passports to him with the immigration card bookmarking the US visa stamp on it. His first question was " Which passport has the US visa ? " When I mentioned it was the second , he immediately snarled at me, " So why are you carrying two passports then ?" I didnt reply for I wasnt sure what to reply , but I realized he didnt expect a reply. He just painstakingly removed one staple after another and tossed my old passport at me. Then came the formalities. And finally before I left, he just showed me a page on my new passport . It was dated 2007 and a transit Dubai visa was stamped on it . As I had a few hours before my connecting flight to Germany, I had decided to step out and had got the visa at the airport. The official had stapled my baggage tags to the page along with the stamp and the immigration man was pointing to it. I wasnt sure what his problem was , as I had travelled in 2007 and I told him the story behind it. He seemed impatient and didnt let me finish .." But you have wasted a page..why have you stapled the baggage tags ? " he snorted back. I was trying hard not to laugh, but muttered I will inform Emirates next time and left the man to harass the next visitor to US.

Foggy and warm..

 

 

It was extremely cold and windy, even though the sun was shining bright. As the ferry landed on the Liberty Island, we looked behind to see the fog slowly cover New York City like a thin sheet , which slowly spread across the sea and the horizon..

 

 

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What bull !

 

In any country, the streets offer great fodder for your lens. I recently did a photo feature on New York in CLAY and most of them were around Manhattan. On most days, I used to hang out at Wall Street and take a long walk across Fulton Street to the South Sea Port. When tired, I used to return to the Battery Park and watch people, birds and squirrels .The site of the WTC along with the Trinity Church was one of the places thronged by tourists. As the Financial Centre was at Wall street, one of the attractions was a massive sculpture of a charging bull which seemed to be the favourite of the tourists. There was always a group of tourists out there waiting in turn to pose for pictures and if they found no place in front of the bull, they would take a picture against its rear . Wiki says that the bull was featured in the movie Kal Ho Na Ho..I found it amusing to watch this crowd as it would be like a continuous session of posers and photographers.In fact there were so many people that I could not get a single picture of the entire bull.

America America - 1

I have to start my US posts with one admission - That I was never fascinated with America and anything American, barring of course Robert Frost . This country was not in my top 10 wishlist nor was I ever tempted to study/live there or marry someone with a US tag.For someone like me who was always interested in culture,history and literature besides natural wonders, Europe held greater fascination .

However when I got the opportunity to travel around US , I decided to go with an open mind .I wanted to explore the country as a tourist/traveller and I must admit that I liked what I saw. If possible, I would even like to return - but only as a visitor. Nevertheless the trip has been great and I must say that its not just the place, but the many people we met - from friends, family to perfect strangers who made the trip happen for me. And so, here is my perspective on America which is not going to be a travelogue featuring destinations, but it will be a random expression of my thoughts and experiences in the country.

Battery Park - Manhattan

Normally we all wear the garb of a tourist when we visit a place . We usually have a short span of time, less money and a list of must see places and we run from one place to another taking pictures and buying souvenirs.Time means money and we do not want to waste even a moment hanging around anywhere. Sometimes, we call ourselves travellers and we seek to experience a place, its culture, meet people and go to off beat places. The travellers tend to look down on the tourists as they walk around with a bit of a swagger and a knowledable air about them. And then of course comes the vagabond, who has absolutely no agenda and who just wanders soaking in everything and letting the place and people get under his skin.

In this trip, I have been all of the above . There have been days when Ive played the perfect tourist to the hilt,especially when I did a whirlwind trip of the west coast and bought more souvenirs than chocolates.Sometimes I was the traveller with a swagger . For instance there was an American lady from New Jersey who asked my help to buy her a train ticket to New York from the automated machine . She said that in all her three decades of living in Jersey, she had never bought a ticket to go to New York and she got dropped there by car. She asked me how long I had been here as she assumed like many other Indians I was living here. I told her I was barely three days old in US.

Pier 39 - SFO

And then for many days, I enjoyed being the vagabond ,walking around Manhattan and Central Park, listening to some amazing music on the streets of NYC and SFO, looking at birds and squirrels at parks or watching people and their antics . And needless to say the best experience was in being a vagabond. I am glad I had a busy husband at work while I roamed around ( although I cribbed about him dragging me off early morning and dumping me at a museum or in some subway. ) I hardly saw many tourists in NYC except near the site of the twin tower and the bull at Wall Street. The crowds that filled NYC on weekends were mainly locals and people who came in from neighbouring towns and states.

A hoarding at Times Square

To give you a basic update - I spent little less than a month in US and explored NYC for almost a fortnight . And then we took a ten day holiday to do a whirlwind trip of the other coast. But the streets of New York have left a lasting impression in my mind. The skyline and the statues, the museums and the shows have of course been captured in photographs, but what stays in my mind is the energy, the music and the efficient but dirty subways (Just happenned to see Taking of Pelham 123 in the flight before I landed in the US and I felt like I reliving the movie while travelling through them ) The heart of any city lies in its public transport and while the subway routes are rather confusing for a visitor, I had learnt the difference between an Uptown and a Downtown train before I left.

Most of US that I saw is indeed man made and this is probably one of the reasons that I was never really excited initially to spend loads of moneys to see tall skyscrapers and never ending bridges. I had never been a fan of big cities except Bombay , but here I literally had to eat my words. Man made here means scale and scale is well, beyond words. And the experience of walking down the Brooklyn Bridge or the Golden gate or seeing the lights of Manhattan coming up from an evening ferry or watching the skyline from the 102nd floor of the Empire State Building may be considered touristy , but the infrastructure and scale here makes you wonder whether everything is just about money or good foresight and planning.

Statue of Liberty from the Staten Island Ferry

Ive had many conversations with friends, bloggers and strangers on the American way of India, racism, Obama, recession, emotional security, children and of course travelling. I would save these for another post. While there are so many memories and thoughts that are pouring out, there are a few I would definitely like to forget - The immigration interview for instance and the paranoid security at airports.

Its 4.45 am India time now and even after 3 days, my jet lag continues. I will go back and catch another 40 winks , before morning dawns .

The journey goes on

Jet lagged and sleepless, I wonder if there is something called a destination . I landed home precisely 24 hours ago and I feel like Ive embarked on another journey. It may be just the jet lagged sensation , but as the day dawns, I start moving on again. Except that the journey is largely in the mind and the setting is familiar.

Coming up soon : My posts from my US trip

The twilight at Pfeiffer Beach at Big Sur

 

 

Sometimes last minute plans work wonders. With friends and family for company, we were at Big Sur last weekend looking at the coastline .

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