Reflection Post for #AtoZChallenge 2021

 

Photo made in May 2019 at Sunder Nursery Heritage Park, New Delhi

One day, in the first week of March this year, I was browsing through the aisles of our local book shop when a hint of turquoise caught my eye.

A small, squarish book wearing a pale blue jacket was perched on a shelf in the poetry section. I left my aisle in the Children's section and picked the book. Felt the grainy cover. Read the blurb. Admired the artwork on the cover and went straight to the till to pay for it.

It was The Book of Ichigo Ichie. 

I'd have to come back to the store the next day to buy books for my friend's four year old daughter. 

By the middle of March, I had decided to participate in the A to Z Challenge, but had no clue what I'd be writing about. I even put a post out on fb to ask for suggestions. But nothing stuck.

On the 22nd of March, while sipping tea under the neem tree, an idea flashed. I wrote to Hector Garcia, co-author of the book, and asked for his permission to use quotes from the book in my posts.  I thought if I get a reply, I'll use the book as my theme and if I don't, I'll wing it somehow.

He wrote back saying, "I love that you write a blog. Feel free to add quotes from our book." within a day. 

And that's how the A to Z series based on the concept of Ichigo Ichie came to be. My theme this year was based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

I had 7 posts prepared before I started. I wrote 2 drafts every day after posting and visiting other bloggers.

This year, I was very comfortable with my visits. I visited all my old blogging friends first, I'm loyal like that:) and then picked 2 or 3 new blogs every day. 

I'm happy to say that this year the quality of comments received were exceptionally good. 

I believe in quality over quantity in every thing I do. Blogging is no exception. Whichever blog I visited, I tried to spend enough time to read the posts and leave a comment but if no comment came, I didn't leave a one-liner to mark my presence.  

As always, I wish I could've visited more blogs. 

I found quite a few new gems this year. I've added all the blogs I liked to my blogroll. 

Here's my THANK YOU 
to all the bloggers who made 

my April truly spring-like: new blossoms and ideas sprouted

on sturdy, old branches and nodded 

to the new growth that May may bring

and perhaps this year of one more than twenty-twenty

will bear sweet fruit borne of curiosity and camaraderie,

despite a virus infinitesimal that's causing such exponential misery!

 A is for Arti, my namesake who writes short fiction on my space

Best mention Vidya and Ruchita who didn't blog but visited regularly and B is free:)

C is for Barbie's letters to herself. You can read them on Crackerberries.

D is for Deborah.

She loves the fact that her name means a bee.

Her topic of Ludic lexicon added new 'old' worlds to my vocabulary.

And like always, every single post of hers is magic perfumed with floral, dreamy imagery.

E is for Ellora Mohanty. After you read her poetry,

you'll thank me (for mentioning her here). You'll see.

F is for Farida. I found her by chance on

the chapters of her life which are full of inspiration, grit and wit.

G is for getting hooked on to a new discovery this year. 

He's called Tomichan Matheikal. He writes about politics and philosophy.

 Gail who is also a new find for me blogs about her writing process from 

H for Hawaii.

I is for Iain, a writer and Scotsman who visited me often. 

He writes fabulous fiction.

More about his trilogy of books is on: Iain Kelly.com

J is for Jayashree Writes.

She wrote about Harry Potter vis-à-vis life's light and not so light sides.

K has to be for Keith's Ramblings.

His humorous tales carried musical notes this time.

His short pieces always bring me a smile.

L is for another new find. It is Love, Laugh and Reflect.

A blog by Purba who's poetry is sublime.

 

M is for the missed opportunity of bloggers who visited me but I couldn't return the favour.

 N is for all the names I cannot list here,

  on account of only a couple of visits this year.

P belongs to four: Pooja, Pinkz, Pradeep 

and the funny Part-time working hockey mom.

 Old blogging friend Pradeep told us about Bangalore's history, 

while Pinkz supported me with her commentary.

Newly found Pooja used words from different languages to write Covid-poetry

and part-time working mom wrote witty pieces based on proverbs, verily.

Thank heavens for Quilting by Frederique.

I got my Q for this list and her posts were fantastic:

check them out for recycling and repurposing stuff into many things stylish.

R is for Rajeev, who I met this year on Spontaneous Overflow.

S, too, belongs to three: Srivalli, Sanskrit and Satabdi

While old friend and now little sister Srivalli 

took us on amazing temple tours in India on Amore Natura,

Durga Dash's Pebbles and Waves shone like a beacon on Sanskrit's 

language and literature.

I'll be going back for more for sure.

Satabdi's posts were all about words to do with the business of creating books.

T is for Trudy who I met very recently.

In fact, in the last week of the A to Z.

She writes about Films beautifully.

Unable to find a suitable U, I'll move on to V.

V is for a Visitor who visited sporadically but I loved the wisdom I found on her/his posts.

I don't know their name. 

The blog is called: Diary of a Sunday Visitor

W belongs to an old blogger friend whose immaculate posts always make me be more like her:

organised, skilful and sorted.

She's Karen from Weekends in Maine

Trust me, you want to visit her to see how she creates WOW! from something plain.

X is for kisses to all the readers who read the posts on Facebook and commented too.

I love you.

Y for me is always, always Yamini. 

I write down her comments in a notebook you see.

Because they're so precious. 

She writes about things that my soul seeks. 

Find her on:

Doses of Wild Yam

And she's even a cool cat of photography!

Z is for Zalka Csenge Virag,

an amazingly resourceful  storyteller from Hungary.

She brings you tales from all over the world in The Multicolored Diary

And with that my dear readers, I end this year's A to Z.

Of course, none of this would be possible without the team at Blogging from A to Z whose hard work and vision has helped me to write so regularly.

Thank you Arlee Bird and J Lenni Dorner and team.

If I've missed out your name, I apologise. I think I've included all those who I continued to interact with right till the end.

Leaving you with this delightful cartoon that my dear friend Sharon shared with me. I knew I'd like to share it here on Reflection day.

Till we meet again amigos.

Stay safe and healthy.

And happy:)

I'll put all of my A to Z s in a  single post soon for convenience.

For now, I'm going back to my bowl of freshly harvested mulberries:)

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

Reflection post #AtoZChallenge

Is this the sun

reflected in water?

Or

have the waves given birth to many suns?

Or

Are stars skinny dipping in broad daylight

to refresh and relight

before they go back up to twinkle in the night sky?

Coruscant! Deborah may say.

What will you?

*****

This year's A to Z has been the most enjoyable one for me. This is my third year of diving in unprepared (just like the previous two times). So what was different this time round? I reckon it's the rhythm of this year's challenge that I stumbled upon quite by accident which made it such a treat despite the demands of posting daily.

April started with family visiting, so I had limited hours each day in which to post and visit. As a result, I didn't seek out too many bloggers--just four or five to read every day. By the end of that first week, I had fallen into a comfortable pattern of visiting bloggers who'd visited me and some whose comments on other bloggers' posts made me want to visit them.

This year, my heart's desires were more about seeing than being seen. So, after writing and  posting, I allotted my time to visit the blogs which pulled me towards them. I will be sharing a list of those in this post.

I'm a blogger and the reason I share what I write is because I do enjoy being seen. So, no-- I'm not heading to the hills to become a hermit just yet. But, there was a sense of calm that I felt this year. If I got comments, it was awesome and if I didn't, that was fine too. I visited the blogs I enjoyed at different times of the day.

Mornings were usually set aside for reflective posts from :

Yamini who ignited a desire within to explore Advaita Vedanta 

Susan who introduced me to Lilith

Deborah offered new old words and perfumed my mornings with her fragrant writing

and Beth provided the morning stretches.

Humour and giggles were provided by:

Keith and Rosey

So anytime I needed a little respite, I'd visit them.

Evenings were spent with a cup of tea and fiction set in the EU with Iain Kelly and

sometimes discovering new weird things like a diamond prince in a rubber suit with  ZALKA CSENGE VIRÁG.

Post dinner time which till March was Netflix time, got assigned to visiting my blogging friends from last year's challenge: 

Jz who can make you laugh out loud with a post on zucchini--trust me.

Emily who was awarded the title of the Ambassador of all things wonderful from Ecuador by Deborah. 

This year I added the blogs I enjoyed to my blog roll, so it was easier to visit whenever I could snatch snippets of time in between washing dishes and tempering daal with cumin and curry leaves.

I met a bunch of talented bloggers from India:

Shilpa's travel inspired posts gave me some very useful tips.

Seema's art and words made me want to pack my bags and head out to India--such amazing talent.

Shalini's love of books criss-crossed my path and made me happy.

Kalpana writes and photographs and with the magic of her photos managed to convince me that I must see Delhi with fresh eyes.

And then there was poetry and lyrical verse: whimsical, beautiful, sometimes direct, sometimes wavy...

Leslie, who pens poetry in moondust

and

Lissa whose words and art are moon dust--whimsical and poignant, magical and real.

I couldn't visit Tamara, Shirley and Kristin as often as I'd have liked to. Thank you girls for dropping by:)

And then there is my old blogging buddy April who I visited the least number of times in April. I love her writing and she's a beautiful soul. I reckon I'll let April spread over my summer while I play catch up with all the missed posts.

Thank you for your visits Eva and Pinkz:) 

I met Ashwini on Z. So, I've not had a chance to visit her properly. 

I hope that the abundance of April will spill over into the rest of the year and we'll continue to meet and visit each other.

It's been an amazing month of seeing and learning. I'm grateful to all you generous souls who took the time to visit me. If you left a comment, it made me very happy. And if you read or looked at the photos and let me into your day for a few minutes, and didn't sign your presence, it made me happy too.  And if you chose not to stop by, that was cool as well. When it's time, it's time.

A Big Thank You to all the organizers.

As I said, it's been an awesome April. I'm grateful and so is my heart. 

May your days sparkle like stars 

and 

May your nights keep you safe

and 

May the in-between hours be filled with magic.

*****

A list of A to Z that was a gift of April---in case you're in the mood to read or browse:)

A is for Alum Chine

B is for Brihadisvara

C is for Cheddar Man

D is for Darshan

E is for Expresso

F is for Five of my Favourite Things

G is for Golden Cap

H is for Head Wash Day

I is for Ishq

J is for Jam

K is for Katara

L is for Laitlum Canyon

M is for Mawphlang

N is for No to News

O is for Overheard at Old Harry

P is for Paradise in Plain Sight

Q is for Quotes on my Fridge Door

R is for #RallyforRivers

S is for Street Art

T is for Tales of Tailors

U is for Umshiang Double Decker Root Bridge

V is for Vintage

W is for Wells

X is for Xavier's College Canteen

Y is for Yartsa Gunbu

Z is for Zaroorat and Zahrah

Art bought from a tiny shop in Phnom Penh:

artist unknown

 joy of journey: known, felt and relished.

Reflection post #atozchallenge

Nottingham, U.K.

Reflections-

What do they tell us about us?

Are they mirrors to our past,

Present

or

Future?

When we reflect,

do we have the courage to be honest?

Do we take off our masks

and see clearly

in the pools of pondering

or do we

choose to 

see what 

we know 

is not true?

*****

What I did in April 

(for the second time)

was the A to Z.

I cobbled together a new post every morning

followed by sharing 

visiting other bloggers

and 

commenting

and reading comments left by others.

Truth be told, it turned out to be more challenging to read than to write!

Never thought that was even possible.

But it seemed like that BECAUSE

there were so many amazing blogs out there.

Come on a tiny tour of the treasures that April unfolded:

I can't possibly mention ALL the links I clicked on in April, 

so I'll stick to the ones I found myself visiting every day, 

despite exhaustion and a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes.

Housework suffered and I gained SIX bloody pounds!

Those were the only negatives of April.

Let's move on to the good stuff then:

From stars by Sage to Eva's postcards and Phillip's envelopes 

I travelled to far off countries (on my bucket list) like Ecuador --thanks to Emily 

and Maui with Courtney

Keith rambled on about Amble Bay. I almost had an ice-cream with him.

Yes, all this from the comfort of my kitchen chair--

that's the magic of blogging.

IF you can forget the bloody pounds you've piled on.

And that ice-cream was NOT even real!

There was so much to learn and admire in April:

From Wendy's odd objects which came packed in the bubble wrap of  her funny commentary

To Sara's herbs which made Deborah and I want to tumble in lilac.

The same rolling in lilac Deborah mentioned jargogle on the day of J 

and I found myself in a state of yagiment--how can I use this word that reminds me of googly eyes in a jar? 

I haven't done any writing this week--so yagimenting continues -- but the good kind:)

I found out that there's "A day to celebrate your first kiss"--who knew it even existed? 

messymimi did.

Toni found me and when I visited her I found Frank's tree--I'll be going back to see more, I'm sure.

There were weird stories all neatly complied under the title WTFs to keep your creative juices flowing--although not always in the right direction--if you get my drift.

We all love stories and when they come in the shape of recorded history, one gets pulled into the narrative. Kristin rekindled my desire to find out about my family's history. Both sets of  my grandparents were refugees of the 1947 partition--when India was carved into two and Pakistan was born. They made India their home where I was born. 

Words are my wine, I'd said when I started this challenge.

Some people have the gift to turn their words into balm and salve our souls with them.

Thank you Susan Scott, Beth Lapin and Deborah for sharing your insights in April.

Then there were bloggers who turned into friends in a matter of few posts.

Jz, you know who you are:)

I've saved my favourite discovery for the last--

My soul mate

happened to come along into my life this April.

He goes by the name of Elliot and you can find him here, right Sue?

I bid you adieu

with a sigh.

I'll miss you guys.

But the EXTRA pounds won't go anywhere if  I don't get my butt out of this chair and on that yoga mat.

So, for the sake of a leaner me (summer is not too far away, you see) I'll leave you with a BIG THANK YOU and these lines:

"I would live all my life in nonchalance and insouciance

Were it not for making a living, which is rather a nouciance."

by

Ogden Nash

Till we meet again

in Thunder, Lightning or in....

Oh! No! the fingers are on a roll. 

HELP! 

Need to get to that treadmill---soon.

H is for How are you? #atozchallenge

How are you?

Hold on. Wait. Pause.

Before you get into autopilot and choose any of the following: good, fine, alright or throw a 'how are you' back at me, think...how are you?

It's a simple how to question. Right?
How do you cook pasta? How is work? How many grams in a kilo?

Or is it?

When was the last time you were honest about answering this simple question?

You'll say, "But who's got the time to listen to me if I do tell them how I really feel?"

I'd say, "You do. You have the time to listen to you, don't you? Before asking anyone else, ask yourself: How are you?"

And labels like happy, sad, worried, anxious, bindaas (carefree), agitated, intoxicated state the state you're in. These don't disclose the real you.

The real you, says Anusha, is formless and at peace. It's full of love.

To find the real me, I feel, my state of being has to be still and calm.

Mix a glass of clear water with some sand and pebbles. Give it a good stir. Is it murky? All churned up? Unclear? Lost?

Stop stirring.

Sit and watch the sediments settle to the bottom of the glass. It takes time. Be patient. Look through the top of the glass? Can you see clearly?

How you feel affects how close you are to that clarity, that truth, that path to the real you, that discovery.

The sun, the moon, this air, these oceans and rivers and seeds and flowers are all the same, but some of us see their beauty and some don't. How does that happen?

So, my dear reader, how are you at this moment? Go on, your self is waiting to hear from you.

I'm happy today, happy and still and in the mood to dance, too. Weird, I know! Perhaps I was a swinging Darwish in a previous birth, but I do love to swing. So, without further ado, let me take you to a sun drenched Sunday (just last week) in the center of Dubrovnik where happy feet and swishing skirts made a lot of people happy.

Leaving you with words I often read from 

The Sage's Tao Te Ching

by

William Martin

How Happy We all Become 

What freedom there is 

in needing no achievement.

.......

We are at last able

to move amidst our loved ones

with the grace of a dancer.

And they are at last free

of our clumsy attempts to control.

How happy we all become.

*****

Take care of yourselves, till we meet again: U and I:)

A trip to Cyprus and post holiday BLUES.

What's the hardest thing to do when you come back from a holiday -- a family holiday?

Unpacking?

Laundry/Washing?

Getting on the weighing scales?

Getting up the next morning to go to school, work or to drop children off to school?

I'd say all of the above, but NONE of the above are as hard as the one I struggle with the most. It's
picking the perfect picture to post on facebook. A picture that shows all of us looking our best at the same time, in the same shot. It's almost impossible.

So long and arduous has been this quest that I recently updated my fb cover photo( with a family shot) after more than two years.

It's all my fault. Really. I make the most fuss about how I look in photos. My family and friends know this.

You see, my idea of what I look like and the camera's idea of what I look like do not coincide.

For a good decade, I hid behind my Vitiligo patches to avoid being clicked sans camouflage. This could be make-up, long sleeves, turtle necks or scarves or night shots in dark corners. Now that I'm out of my closet, I create the fuss before and during and after the photo has been clicked on account of my prosperous physique (hum khatee peete ghar se hain bhai, kya karen?) My body subscribes to the Punjabi notion of being 'healthy'.

This is what goes on inside my brain when I'm about to be shot: the bossy little voice takes over...

Don't grin too wide-- it shows your creases. Suck in that lower belly, suck it IN I say...suck it in till you can't breathe. Oh! shoot! that makes you look like a rooster who's about to cock-a -doodle-doo. Okay, let out a bit of that air but hold onto that udyana bandha for your sake. Oh! And turn, stand at an angle...remember that's how all the women you know stand in all the group shots these days? And what about that chin? Should it be up or down? What did that article say? And look at the camera...not the sky. Oh! I give up...hang on, pop those shades on...you know they're a God send. 

'I tried.' whimpers my bossy little voice. 'I give up!'

While this battle is raging inside my head, my children are informing me that the camera is NOT in the direction I'm trying to half-grin at. Aaaahhh!!! At moments like these, I feel that models deserve every penny they get for posing.

BUT, hang on...there are non-model friends of mine who can pull off a pose or a selfie before you can say 'cl' of click with such ease and aplomb that I can't help but admire their grace and poise.

How do they do it?

'It's easy.' said Sukku (a pro at getting clicked) while we were camping in Bedni in June . 'Turn your shoulder like this, jut out a hip like this, throw your head back and pose. simple.'

You have to see how quickly and effortlessly she strikes a pose-- every time!

A dear friend tried to follow her advice recently. The result made us all roll on the floor with laughter,

My conclusion, therefore, is that some of us are just born with it. I'm not one of them.

That is why, being behind the camera is so much more fun and fulfilling for me than being in front of it.

A quick and short escape to Cyprus a few days ago gave us that elusive family photo-- yes, I have my shades on! Laugh, if you must. I'm a vain Jain.

Doors, walls and windows have no such vanity issues. They are perfect subjects and when the light is Mediterranean, the blues blow you away with their brilliance. And the doors don't shy away from extreme close-ups, either.

Doors and streets of Omodos.

The blue walls of Lefkara Museum (in Pano Lefkara) made a hot afternoon cool.

The entrance

Going upstairs

The sun peeks through shutters, lace,

windows

and windows.

Blue -- inside and out.

Where does the wall finish?
And the sky begin?

Why are all the walls blue? 

If you are planning a trip to Cyprus, a visit to this beautifully curated museum will make you very happy.

For more details, click on:

Folk Art Museum

Cyprus is beautiful, no doubt. But, the MOST precious part of Cyprus is its people and their hospitality. More about them and their warm hearts and their delicious food in the next post.

Have a wonderful weekend.

And admire the blue around you.

xx

Roopkund - about trust, trash and toilet tents

Scan. Squat. Squirt. This is the standard modus operandi to pee on a long trek.

It's easier if you are a man because:
a) you needn't squat and
b) your scan span goes further, so you can guard your privacy easily and efficiently.

We, the women folk, have to rely on others to be our scanners. It's all about trust. You trust that your scanners will ward off wanderers and keep your dignity in tact. 

So when we reached Patar Nachauni and spotted big boulders, our bursting bladders ordered us to find spots to squirt. This was also the last spot for any phone reception. While some of us clambered down to squat, others climbed up to the highest point and called home to inform loved ones that we were alive and well and that they won't hear from us for the next 24-30 hours or so, as there would be no phone reception after this point.

From this point onwards, sharp incline and rocky terrain tested the trekkers' strength and will. While some in the group suffered from symptoms of altitude sickness (breathlessness, dizziness etc.) others managed by pacing their stride.

Trust.

When the going gets tough, trust yourself.

I did.

Thick fog descended and all I could see was the next bit to climb. In a way, the fog helped. I was forced to focus on just the patch I could see in front of me. It made the climb easier.

Sometimes, it's best to take the next step and not worry about the bigger picture.

Climb. Stop. Breathe.

Climb. Stop. Breathe.

The rhythm lulled me into oblivion. I was alone but didn't feel lonely. It felt like I was back on my yoga mat -- in sync with myself, my breath, my body and my soul.
And every now and then, I'd stop to:
Inhale
and
Exhale.

The fog engulfed the terrain. It gobbled up the trekkers behind me. For the duration of this laborious climb, I trekked alone.

Was it wise?

In hindsight: NO!

Trekking as a group requires trust. We trust our guides to keep us safe. But, we also trust each other to keep pace.

I was lost in myself for this stretch of the trek. It's okay to do that when one is on a solo trek, but not when you are part of a group.

'Anything could've happened.' I was told. 'You could've twisted your ankle.'

Sense was knocked into me when the rest of the group caught up with me,

I could see the folly of my ways.

Not once during that 4 km stretch did I think of anything or anyone-- not even my son who was trekking with me. When I try to recall that time, it feels as pure as silence. There was magic and I think I felt it and was enchanted by it.

If I were single and if I had no worldly ties, I'd go on solo treks all the time. In fact, I met one such man one morning at a tea stall in Bedni.

He's 55 and single. He lives and works in Kolkata. He picks a trek that calls to him from trekking magazines he subscribes to. 

'You must be reaching Nirvana.' I remarked when he told me his story.

'Far from it.' he said. 'I still like money. Still need to earn it to be able to afford treks. But only when I come here, I feel truly alive.'

Trekking is as much about such chance encounters as it is about traipsing through tricky terrains and synchronising  the self with sunrises and sunsets.

Kalu Vinayak temple marked the end of the steep ascent. 

It's all downhill from here till we reached Bhagwabasa.

According to a guide I overheard, people take a vow to do the parikrama with the statue of Ganesh (looks pretty heavy to me) for their safe return from Roopkund.

I waited here for the rest of my team to catch up.

Lessons learnt today will come in handy the next day when  at 2 am we will set out on the most treacherous climb I've ever attempted.

But before we go there, let me show you our camp site at Bhagwabasa.

Do you see the slate like rocks? Yes, they were sharp and uncomfortable. We didn't pitch a tent. Instead, we were given a shed to squeeze our cocooned bodies close together for warmth. It was cold and extremely uncomfortable.

Basically, once you found a spot where the rocks poked you the least through your sleeping back and through the mat below it, you lay still -- like a mummy.

The good news was that we had to be up around 2 am to get ready for the climb.

'We will be preparing porridge and you all will eat some before we head out.' announced Chauhan, our guide as we settled to sleep. ' You will all need the energy.'

We all groaned collectively. Who in their right mind was going to eat porridge at 2 am?

But we all did. And relished it. And asked for more. It was the most delicious sweet porridge (sans milk, but stuffed full of energy boosting almonds, cashews and raisins), I've ever tasted in my life. Yum!

Clad in all the warm layers we were carrying, we stood ready on the grey stones.  An early start ensures safety, we were told. Melting snow makes climbing dangerous.

Torches -- Check

Last loo run ---Check... hold on a tick! Who's been using our toilet tent?

Yes, those are our toilet tents: the beautiful red one and the one next to it.  As Bhagwabasa is the last and only campsite before Roopkund, it gets busy. As trekkers, we trust that other groups would use their toilet tents (even if they are pitched a bit further). We also trust that trekking companies who bring large groups (almost 30 in one) to the Himalayas would ensure that their 'groupies' observe certain civil etiquette to make the experience pleasant for all.

Sadly, that's not the case.

Toilet tent misuse may be overlooked when the terrain is tough and the cold is biting, but there is no excuse whatsoever for littering the place. The sad and bitter truth that one faces on such remote and beautiful parts of the country is that trekkers and visitors lack basic civic sense. It's a shame.

Come on people, wake up! Take your trash with you. It's not rocket science. Leave only your footprints behind-- the Himalayas don't need your plastic sweet wrappers, discarded cans and bottles-- take them home with you and then recycle them. Or better still, don't bring plastic with you.

Can we trust ourselves to keep the Himalayas safe and clean and litter free for the generations who will come after us? 

A clean India is not impossible to achieve.

This kind of behaviour gets my goat. TV and radio ads can blast out 'Swachch Bharat' or 'Clean India' slogans till the cows come home, but India will be clean only if the people who live there take care of their trash like it's their responsibility and not just the government's.

Back to the trek, then.

It was dark. It was damp. But, at least the rain had stopped. Had it been raining, we wouldn't have carried on.

Chauhan's instructions were very clear-- keep pace with each other and keep hydrated.

The first light...

We stopped to put crampons and gaiters on just as the sun was streaking the sky red.

We could see what lay ahead. It was stunning. It was scary; so scary that I tucked my camera away to keep my hands free.

Jagat (the best guide in the world, according to my son) who is also a minefield of information about peaks and everything else used his ice-pick to claw out a foot hold, the person behind him would put his foot in and then the next, and so on. The progress was slow but steady.

When I reached the top, I took my camera out.

 We DID it!!!

photo courtesy: Rajat:)

Almost as soon as this picture was clicked, the sinking feeling that we had to climb down sunk in. NO!!!!

Temple at Roopkund Lake.

Climbing down may be easy on the lungs but my poor heart was petrified of falling off the mountainside!

Splitting headaches (thanks to altitude adjustment) greeted us back in Baghwabasa when we reached at around 10 am. Strong cups of tea and a little rest sorted us out. The day had only just begun and we had to make our way back to Bedni.

Come along and watch the sun light up the Himalayas; the abode of snow ('him' means snow and 'alaya' means abode).

The same temple (Kalu Vinayak) on our way back, when the sun shone in the bright blue sky.

I met a local family who were carrying these flowers as an offering for the temple at Roopkund. They were climbing up the path like you and I stroll in a mall-- totally chilled!

these flowers have an amazing scent and they paint the mountainside purple.

Halfway down, it started pouring buckets. My IKEA poncho didn't hold out. I squelched my sodden body back to camp.

But look what happened almost as soon as we reached Bedni -- the sun smiled and shone through the blanket of clouds.

 Our beloved toilet tents.

If I tell you that we saw yellow daisies next to the hole in the ground the next morning, will you believe me?

Well, it's true:)

A clear morning the next day-- Bliss!

All we had to do was walk downhill for about 12 hours through a thick forest of Juniper, Pine, Oak and Rhododendron to reach the point where a vehicle would pick us up. 

That should be easy, right?

WRONG!

The rain soaked forest floor of Wan forest will make the climb downhill slippery and slushy.

We will play many rounds of 'antakshari' to keep an 'ear' out for each other.

The thought of a hot bath at the end of the climb down will keep us all motivated and chirpy.

I'll demonstrate the zig-zagging technique of climbing downhill to Arnav. He'll ignore my suggestion but adopt the same technique when Rajat will show him after a few slips.

I'll shake my head at his teenager ways and carry on enjoying every moment of this precious 

mother-son trek.

If, like me, you are fascinated by myths and legends, then check this link out: 

Myths and Mysteries of Roopkund

Hope to see you all soon. Enjoy your weekend 

and

USE 

a TRASH CAN!

Better still,

RECYCLE, if you can.

In case you missed part 1 of this trek, here it is:

Roopkund - Part 1.