Day 5 - 1st anniversary time

Day 5 was special. In fact it wouldn't be entirely incorrect if I say that day 5 or rather the date that day 5 occurred on was the sole reason for this Hawaii trip. You see last year on this very date I was participating in the royal ceremony of tying the wedlock with the iconic missez of mine. I then went on and committed the horrible sin of ditching the honeymoon and flying back to this firang land that too alone. The agonizing 1 month that followed has been well documented in this very blog in the past. So you see this trip was sort of like my redemption. I was taking the missez on the mother of all honeymoons - a no holds barred week long trip to Hawaii, albeit a year too late. And I had a bagful of phrases to emphasize this very idea which I used althrough the trip and will continue to use whenever I am fighting a losing battle with the missez. Just the phrase, "....but I took you to Hawaii on our 1st anniversary, didn't I??" and all will be well in my stormy world. I hope it keeps working till eternity. Amen!!

But I digress, so day 5 had been very carefully planned to make it that extra bit magical in the words of a romantic. The morning was gonna be stress free, without any prior reservations we were free to roam around. And roam we surely did, spending a good deal of time at the beach and then in the long eluding hotel pool where I took a dip and the missez bathed in the sun. At the stroke of noon we were right in front of a surfing center. Yes...we were going surfing today. Now disclaimer here. The following part of the blog will be part fiction, because I sucked at this surfing thing. Yes sucked is the perfect word to describe my antics on the waves. And the parts where I describe myself surfing like a dude can be safely attributed to the missez. Because she had yet again taken to surfing like fish to water.In fact I sometime wonder if she was born fish in any of her prior incarnations and thus still has those fishy instincts. But thats just my jealousy showing its bright green color.

So we embarked upon the surfing adventure. We were an assorted group of 6 adventure seekers. Two young ones, a dad, a 40 something spinster from Seattle, the missez and yours truly. I was secretly judging them on their ability to grasp this tricky sport of surfing. I quickly choose my closest competitor and thus adversary.The spinster.Everyone else had way too much unfair advantage. The young ones, obviously. They are not afraid of anything, darn age. Missez too, obviously.The fish thing remember. The dad was now looking kinda shaky so he could also fall in my draw. So there was no pressure. I was surfing against a old lady and a shaky dad. Piece of cake man. Where's the dude trophy?

This one too , like snorkeling, began with a not so short course on surfing and this too as before was utter bullshit. On the beach ,I was still fumbling around with the instructions being thrown at me when it was already time to efficiently execute the very same at sea without someone actually throwing them at you. Pompously I assumed that I was a pro now and the 2 ft waves were looking like a mild disturbance on a calm lake surface. Bring on the good stuff, where are the 10 footers. Thankfully the natural forces that determine the details of the height of the waves were taking a coffee break and cared less about my lame provocations. My brain was running on overdrive and I let everyone else pass ahead of me. You see I was just trying to access what I was competing against so I could lower my ability and effort accordingly and still supersede them comfortably. Ohh such shrewdness,pat on the back dude. When ultimately my turn arrived, I paddled towards the instructor, swiftly ignored his last instructions and lo and behold I was one with my old pal, gallons of salt water. And with every turn of mine, we extended our friendship to higher levels. Over the 2 hours or so of this activity, my cumulative standing time on the surfboard was an impressive 5 and half seconds, counting the half second for the time while I was struggling on my knees to stand up. In hindsight I would officially like to blame this catastrophe on my body's center of gravity which failed to lift itself to surfing standards. Case closed.

As expected missez was doing superbly on her own and I was content watching her appreciatively while flapping my hands in the sea lying horizontally on the board.Soon enough it was over and we were back on the beach. It seems there was some dude who was taking our snaps during all these acrobatics in full 1280 HD glory. To his credit he had captured the entire 5 and half seconds of my verticalness on the board in 15 different snaps. And there was the graphic proof of my amazing surfing abilities.

Content, we were back in the hotel to chill out till the sunset cruise, icing on our anniversary cake. We had booked the priority tickets in the hope that we will finally get the flower garland welcome on the cruise ship. But all we got was priority seating which ended up being public after all. Initial disappointment withstanding we secured a cozy little corner for ourself. From then on till the dark of the night it was all about the sea, the sun and the sky. The 3 elements intermingling in innumerable formations of unimaginable beauty. The high point was when a mother and calf humpback whales decided to pay a visit to personally greet us on our anniversary. They were literally in touching distance of the boat. I captured umpteen fit-for-wallpaper snaps. The fading light brought with it some unwanted rain. Luckily we found an aptly shaded seating right on the deck while everyone else bar the captain ran for cover in the belly of the boat. So the scene was - lashing rain, fading light of the sun, the sea and the two of us. Magical.

Other passengers finally decided to brave the now thinning rain and ascended to the deck. Many interesting conversations followed including one with the captain of the boat herself. We also discovered a bunch of ghost boats, supposedly floating in the middle of the ocean with their lights turned off.

By the time we stepped back on land it was totally dark and it was curtains on a very special day. Lights out day 5. Snap count 550 something.

Day 4 - Scaling Halekala

Following the pattern over the last few days...day 4 began a good 4 hours before the crack of dawn. But today there was a noble reason for this insanity of getting up that early, the break of dawn itself, or as the lazy people like to call it, sunrise. Over the years this phenomenon of sunrise along with its evening buddy sunset have climbed the stairs to mythical proportions in my psyche. I have ended up making many a beelines to witness the aforementioned spectacles of sun's interaction with the earth. Today was no different. I was gonna drive in pitch dark on a curvy mountain road right to the summit of Haleakala - a not so dormant volcano.Add to that some freezing rain and it turns into madness, most definitely.

So that was the plan for today. The instinct reaction when we stepped out of the room to leave was to turn back and hunker down in the bed for eternity. It was raining and the sky was full of cumulonimbus clouds for as far as the eye could see. Turning back would have been a logical reaction. But ever the defiant of logic, and the fire of enthusiasm burning through the missez, we braved our way to the waiting Mustang. We had been warned about the freezing cold at the summit, so we were armed with nothing less than bulky towels because that was the best we could do in terms of gathering winter clothing in this tropical state.

The initial drive until the right turn on the Road to Hana was uneventful and kinda cozy. From then on it was a gradual-initially-steep-later on ascent to the top. Nothing much was visible on our way up , thanks to the pitch black of the night aided by the blinding rain. We literally crawled to the top, averaging around 15 miles an hour. The chances of actually witnessing anything remotely close to a sunrise were fading thick and fast in the gathering storm clouds. The elevation markers kept coming in and out of the focus of my headlights, indicating every 1000 ft of our accent. The observation center is situated at approximately 10,000 ft on the mountain. But when we parked at what we thought was the parking lot, there was no sign of anything apart from clouds. I bravely opened the door to access the weather situation outside and the left side of my body had turned comfortably numb within the few seconds that I took to correct my folly. Wrapped with towels around my head , I finally stepped out to find the observation center and more importantly to relieve my ailing bladder. Surprisingly there was a loo even at that crazy altitude and my dream of "public urination" in the US 0f A got postponed for yet another day.

The sun in the meantime was fighting a loosing battle with the dense clouds at this elevation. The sunrise time quickly passed and the crowd gathered to view the spectacle started thinning quickly ,utterly disappointed. I on the other hand was determined to sit out this minor setback and wait for that wee bit of clearing in the clouds. But my patience was being genuinely tested here. So we decided to drive a little further up all the way to the summit. Another 300ft or so up, just to let the sun and the clouds sort out their issues in private. Missez was frozen and flatly refused to entertain any requests of stepping out of the Mustang. So I wrapped my towel and headed out and to my utter disbelief the view that I saw first up was mind-blowing. I was standing at the summit of the tallest mountain on the island with a blanket of clouds all around and below me. The below part was particularly amazing. There were varying layers of clouds each moving at its own velocity and therefore creating a clearing every now and then enabling me lots and lots of glimpses of the breathtaking view below my line of vision. I recorded a 360 degree view of the panorama for the wife's benefit. And then just lingered on. It was so peacefully beautiful up there that I just couldn't make myself leave. My reverie was finally broken by the yelling missez who had to step out of her thawing state to find me. After a little cajoling she finally joined me in the panorama admiration society that I had set up in promptu. Absorbing as much beauty as I possibly could we drove back to the observation center keeping our fingers crossed. The skirmish seemed to have been resolved in favor of the sun for now at least. I made the most of it and click - clicked the camera to my hearts content.

On our way down the snaking road the rain was slowly giving way to sunshine. Every turn of the curving road opened to ever changing panoramas, each one more beautiful than the last one. We even saw a full rainbow and the faint hint of a double. It was simply breathtaking driving down that road. Almost all the way down the mountain we stopped at a roadside inn for breakfast. The eggs Benedict and hash browns were yummy and just perfect. With nothing specific planned for the rest of the day, we were taking it easy and stopping at all possible spots. Spotted at least 4 hump backs right from the shore on one such stop and explored another part of the island which we hadn't previously planned.The top was down on the Mustang and it was an amazingly beautiful day. Tummies full with the yummy stuff and hearts full of all the beauty we were off for an afternoon siesta.

Act 2 of the day was short and sweet and began late in the afternoon at around 4. We headed straight to a beach. Weren't too enthusiastic to take a dip so after a few minutes of wading we were off to the Front Street. Front street here is like the mall road of our Indian hill stations. Full of shops and eating places. We decided to stick to the chains and opted for the Hard Rock Cafe. Also caught a glimpse of a beautiful sunset over the pacific.

Thats was curtains on day 4. Snap count 400 and add to that at least 6 video recordings for the day.

Day 3 - Snorkelling and the Luau

Day 3 dawned upon us in all its pristine glory with an organized calm. The entire day was planned way - way in advance, so there were no options for me supposedly twisting the proceedings with my mammoth lethargy. Truth be told I was pretty excited myself. First order of day, checking in at the Pacific whale Foundation for a 6 hr snorkeling cruise, a continental breakfast and a la - carte lunch to follow. As it turns out the elements were pissed with my aforementioned state of excitement and had retorted to hitting the harbor (on which I was standing waiting for a catamaran to haul me to sea) with gale force winds. But this wrath of nature was a mere breeze as compared to the hell I was paying for supposedly forgetting our camera battery. Missez is nothing less than a hurricane when she is pissed and from plenty of first hand experiences I have learned not to retort to any sort of cheap defense in such circumstances. So I gave up my futile argument and scurried along the nearby touristy shops to look for the non-existent battery.

Finally my karma argument - which basically boils down to - past is over lets not linger on to it,lets live in the moment forgetting all my past faux pas, payed off, with a mighty boost from the launch of the catamaran with us as passengers. We headed out into the choppy seas, with the winds showing no signs of giving up at this point of time. Breakfast was quickly gobbled with the customary sea safety speech being announced in the background. Soon enough we were slowing down literally in the middle of the ocean to everyones surprise and the captain of the boat chimed in that a mighty humpback whale had been sighted in our vicinity. The captain was speaking in his sea lingo with port , starboard and various clock positions of 3 O'clock, 6 O'clock peppered in just for fun. I was flabbergasted. I had no idea which side to look, or was I instead supposed to look at the watch, that I was (not) wearing. Missez slid in with a piece of her mind and then on I followed her lead in the directions of vision. A little info flash here. Winter is humpback whale season in Hawaii and the surrounding sea. They, the whales, apparently swim the distance of nearly 3500 miles from their feeding grounds in Alaska to Hawaii, and specifically to Maui, for its warm and shallow sea. Back to the story, initially it was a little hard for us to locate them in the vast blue, but the signature whale breath fountain made it easier. And from then on I was a self proclaimed pro at spotting these majestic creatures. We slowed down and stopped many a times for these whale watching jaunts before we reached the island of Lanaii and to a cozy little creek where we were supposed to snorkel.For the ignorant Snorkel is a fancy name for swimming at or just below the surface of water while breathing with the help of a tube sticking out for air and apparently enjoying the underwater natural beauty. After a crash course in snorkeling on the boat deck, we were all suited up. The suit basically consists of a face mask and humongus set of fins for the feet. The clothing in between these two is apparently optional. But to my disappointment there were no exceptions.

The first touch of water was cold. Missez had already taken appropriate precaution by opting for a wet suit and was nimbly swimming like a fish in water. Me, thats a different story altogether, when I finally let go of the boat straightaway ducked under water quick and fast gulping copious amount of salt water. Apparently the snorkel crash course had been utter bullshit because it didn't include any directions on how to put on this god forsaken snorkel mask. A wobbling and thoroughly salted me emerged, thanks to the gallons of salt that I had absorbed from the water. The missez was thoroughly scared of my misadventures and was promptly by my side to inform me that I couldn't possibly sink because I had a floating apparatus around my body. Nervous calmed, I finally started enjoying the snorkeling experience. On later intelligent analysis I discovered that this show of shame and embarrassment on my part was partly the fault of my inability to breath with my mouth rather than my nose and mostly the fault of everybody else in general. But I digress. In fact I started to enjoy it so much that, much to the dismay of a shivering missez, I went back a second time after lunch and this time consistently kept my nose underwater admiring the beautiful corals and rainbow colored fishes in the process. Mucho fun indeed.

The return leg of the cruise was sombre with me admiring the sun kissed deep blue expanse and acting all zen-like while a school of dolphins performed their much adored skimming jump out of the water for us.I was given another slap on my head for forgetting the camera battery which prevented us from capturing the breathtaking beauty all around us for eternity. Further rounds of stops and slow downs for the whales followed before we were back on terra firma.

The next 45 minutes are a blur, at the end of which I was magically standing in a line for the entry into the Luau. The only thing that I faintly remember from the blur is the part where the missez transformed from a homeless on the street to a Greek goddess in under 10 minutes. That must be some sort of a world record or something. Info flash time again. Luau is a typically Hawaiian custom of partying like their is no tomorrow. Highlights being the unveiling of the ceremonial Kalua Pig which is later hogged down and various Hula's or dance performances. This I assume is the commercial form of the Luau. I have no idea how a non-commercial one pans out. So the Luau started with a typically Hawaiian welcome custom of tropical garlands (which for us non privileged ones were made of small sea shells) and a local drink called Mai Tai. While we were settling down the aforementioned Kalua Pig was unveiled from its cooking place which is under ground and taken for a round around the house. I have pictures to prove that it was totally gross. Ewwww....I just want to eat it...I don't want to look at it while its being cooked. I promptly washed down this ghastly vision with the remaining Mai Tai and ordered another one. But before we could get any comfy, the dinner was served and I attacked the food with a renewed vigour. Little shreds of Kalua Pig, local fish Mahi Mahi, local fried rice, a purple bread and delicious slices of pineapples were consumed in huge quantities. And just as I was settling down with an overflowing dish of dessert(s), the actual show per se started. What followed was a sequence of dances from all the Polynesian communities of the pacific starting with New Zealand, Tonga, Haiti and ending with Hawaii. The dances were performed by scantily clad hunks and babes and were a real treat for both the visual and aural senses. This was one of the be-their-to-experience kind of thing. The fire dance in the dying moments of the performance deserves a special mention, drawing ooohs and aaahs from the crowd and yours faithfully.

To be true, I was a little skeptical about this Luau thing to start with, but the Missez prevailed and we booked. Now in the light of experience it looks like a fine decision and really an experience to cherish. I redemmed myself by grabbing the aformentioned camera batteries during the blur and have loads of pictures to show from this colourful evening feast.

It was lights out Day 3. The photo count, although massively depleted courtesy the prior screw up, still stood at 310.

Day 2 - Road to Hana

Day 2 on the lines of day 1, also began early in the night. Somewhere between 3 to 6.30 AM. This would be the pattern of mornings through the vacation. I am talking of a good 3 and half hours in terms of range, that’s because we had originally decided to get up at 3 and head to a mountain top for the sunrise. But I chickened out...and so we decided to linger on to the bed...all the way till 6.30. I will come back to the ride to the mountain top later. The itinerary for today was, take the top down on the mustang and drive around the island like there is no tomorrow. Oops...that was what I was silently thinking. WUBI moment noted. Missez on the other hand had dug through the dearth of literature collected overnight and found a mile by mile "attractions guide" for the "Road to Hana". The erstwhile road is a zig-zag pathway through the rocky east coastline of the island. This would be quiet an understatement of the beauty of the road if I left the description at that and I will diligently correct my folly immediately.

As the name suggests, "Road to Hana" is basically a motorway from the center of the island, that is roughly the Kahului airport, to a town called Hana located on the easternmost point of Maui and beyond. I would love to have a map of the island right about now so that I can simply point out the spots. But then the picture that I am about to paint will be lost. Now lets follow the LIFO (in layman terms Last-In-First-Out) approach here. Starting with the beyond part, which basically consists of one spot as per the guide. And here I might be making the name up but bear with me. The seven sacred pools or Ohe'a Gulch. It’s supposed to be a series of waterfalls and pools. And I am speculating here because we didn't visit the spot...as it was way beyond and my adventurous spirit was taking a break in our hotel pool at that very instant in time. At one point of time one could circumnavigate the island going way way beyond from here...but a recent earthquake had rendered that part of the road useless. Continuing on our journey backwards...Hana is a beautiful little coastal town. It reminded me quiet a lot of Goa. The same colonial style houses, laid back atmosphere and pristine beaches. But the town per se is just the means to an end. Because if you just blindly run though the erstwhile road you would miss 99% of all the famed beauty and will end up massively disappointed with the 1% that you actually find at Hana. The last line is a gist of the story of a journo that the missez narrated to me during our drive. Her rationale behind the story was to make me stop at all possible touristy attractions peppered throughout the road. And she was partially right in that because I was driving literally like a hypnotized zombie, hypnotized by the sheer zigzags of the road and zombified by the top down mustang. The distance from the airport to Hana is roughly arnd 60 miles. An hours drive on a freeway, 40-45 minutes for a loony. But it took us nearly 5 hours to reach Hana courtesy the umpteen stops. We waded for some time on the black sand beach at Hana after I had stuffed my face with chips, grilled cheese sandwich and some local chicken delicacy. Right before Hana we took a left turn into some local park. Another missez discovery. Another black sand beach. There was also a very interesting lava cave right on that beach. We actually went inside it and it ended right into the sea. The rest of the coastline was pretty rocky, with picturesque stone arches formed as a result of the never-ending battle between land and sea. There was also a curious little hole in this rocky landscape, another cave evidentially with one end opening to the skies and the other end into the sea. It was aptly named Devils' hole credited to the ghastly noises of the sea breaking on the rocks underneath. Not to mention the chance of sucking in a hapless bystander.

Also along the way were umpteen shacks selling everything from barbecued kalua pig - a local delicacy to banana bread - another local special. Missez finally made me stop at one of them literally by pulling the handbrake. I promptly claimed that this precise shack was the one that I had been looking for all along and this was the best amongst all the rest, meekly pointing to the board that proudly said "Best Banana bread in the world".

There was another detour, before this whole banana incident. This one led to a spell binding rocky coastline. The waves were almost 6 to 8 ft high, thundering on to the rock face and we were standing right beside them to catch the spray of that clear blue and white froth of salty water. Its amazing how the same terrifying water on the rock feels so soothing on ones skin. I also must note the clarity of the sea water here. It was a uniform light blue and transparent allowing us to peep right into the belly of the mighty pacific. Also on our way was the "Garden of Eden". A small drive through of sorts amongst countless species of Birds and Bushes. At the U-turn point was a small cabin with a view of an amazing waterfall on one side and a beautiful valley opening into the deep blue ocean on the other. This waterfall is supposed to be the opening sequence of the first Jurassic park movie if you remember. I can't really confirm this fact but I would like to believe it. Incidentally a good part of the movie was shot in and around these islands. Also on the way was a supposed hidden waterfall, which remained hidden despite our valiant attempts at discovering it. I actually hiked 2 different trails to find even a hint of a waterfall, even a small puddle of water would have done in the end but failed. I promptly had my revenge by gulping down a full half liter bottle of water down my throat.

Also, before figuratively hitting the road, we had stocked ourselves with a 24 pack of water bottles, a sunscreen lotion, a beach mat and other assorted stuff. I generously helped myself with the sunscreen, but my original skin tan finally broke through soon enough. Part credit also goes to the top less mustang. The top was down throughout the TO journey and up and down in intervals on the FROM journey. There was a heavy downpour on our way back, but I still managed to open up the top on every few minutes of the clearing in the heavens above. Any description of the road would be incomplete without a comment on the actual road. It really is an engineering marvel. The road has been cut out literally from the rock face, and is right by the sea for the good part of it. Due to the terrain, it keeps dropping and rising in elevation every now and then leading to countless hairpin and blind turns through lush green forests. The ample bubbling brooks lead to countless bridges, with traffic on one side halting every now and then to let the oncoming traffic pass on the single lane path. The average speed is around 15 miles for an hour and should be a good 5 miles/hour less to appreciate the beauty surrounding you. The countlessness of the bridges and hairpins though is a writers privilege. There are 56 bridges and 600 curves on this enchanting motorway.

We stopped at a surfing beach on our way back, but a heavy downpour and 2 fragile bladders cut short the stay. It was already dark when we reached back to the hotel. So with relieved bladders, the taste of a frozen pizza in the mouth and the dream of a dip in the hotel pool, it was lights out for day 2.

PS : Needless to say, we clicked a lot of snaps. The count at the end of day was some 150 odd.

Hawa hawaii....day 1 and other BS

I have been postponing this for almost a week now...so in the words of "Rage Against the Machine"...it had to come out someday, it had to come out somehow...what better place then here, what better time then now...

True to the spirit of the blog, this ones a travelogue to a land far far away, in the middle of nowhere holding the promise of an enchanted world. The aformentioned land being the isle-land of Hawaii...or rather the islands of Hawaii. The trip promises a flurry of places with unpronouncable names, cliches upon cliches on the wonder that is nature...and loads of self promotion. I would not like to give away the entire plot right at the beginning...but you get the drift. So take your pick and think hard, very hard if you really wanna go through this long drawn out literary torture. I for one would just go ahead and keep writing assuming someone out there is praising my absolute grasp of the plot and language......

Another STOP sign, effectively the last escape route....and if you are still reading this....welcome to my world. You are doomed. Okiiiiieee...now that we have fulfilled the customary requirements of basic BS..lets get on with the story. The idea to visit Hawaii was essentially a "Eureka!!" moment. In a fit to please the missez...my brain got wired in some solemn way to pop this "Bulb" called hawaii over my head. So from then on till the day we left, started the continious squabbling over where to stay, which flight to take, which car to rent, what activities to book, what shorts to buy for swimming, what not for snorkelling, what swimsuit for sunbathing on the beach, which skirt for wading in the sea, which tops to wear at all the various occasions we were not going to attend and so on and so forth. The ususal stuff. And on the very last day before leaving...darn we do not have a "nice" camera. Nice being the operative word here. So Sony was made 350 $'s richer and I brought home a mat finish Sony DSC H3. All the banalities out of the way...we were packed and ready to embark on a week long vacation, which always seemed too short to begin with, and the missez had hammered that home time and again. I too secretly thought that it would be too short, but how could I ever agree with her without a fight. That would be like breaking atleast 7 different rules of "The Manual of Marriage" and another 20 different ones of "The 1st Anniversary Bible". So now that sufficient water has flown under the bridge, I can make this knowledge "of agreeing with the missez" public. There would be quiet a few "sufficient water under the bridge and I can make knowledge public" moments throughout this post. So from now on I would simply refer to it as a "WUBI" moment.

Day 1: Thursday Jan 24th' 08

We had to get up very early in the night that day, and this does sound like a contradiction but thats what it is. 3 AM to be precise. I slept around 4 hrs. Missez claims to have slept for like an hour becasue I didn't help her in packing...although I know that all the excitement had got to her. The first flight was at 6.05 from Newark. I had booked a limo, the prior night to avoid all the negative excitment in the morning but as usual the limo was late ,the driver was kinda lost. I took it in my stride and lo and behold we were chatting with a jovial sardarji on our way to Newark. I stumbled in my stride during the security check at the airport...there were too many things to manage...and the missez was overwhelmed by the moment. But we got through without being the subject of public humiliation. 3 something hours later we had landed at DFW airport in Dallas, TX. I must mention the size of that airport. It claims to be as big areawise as the island of Manhattan. And it really is big. One flight down, one to go. I spent the next 9 odd hours tossing and turning in an airplane seat, trying to find that mythical sweet spot of comfort. The missez on the other hand was all comfy in her petite frame and spent most of those hours sprawled on a couple of middle row seats. By the time we were over the islands, all the passengers were wide awake and the excitment was palpable....breaking into loud cheers on the first sight of land and sea through the pigeon hole windows of the airplane.

We had no checked in baggage and were out of the arrival area in a snap to catch the first glimpse of the magnificient view. A blue Mustang convertible was acquired as the vehicle of choice and the very first thing that I did was to take the top down. Missez loaded up on all the possible touristy material ever printed on Hawaii and off we went to our hotel. Hawaii as I mentioned before is an archipelago of islands. We had landed on one of them called Maui and would continue to stay on it for most part. Let me bore you with some history and geography or as I like to call it the "lay of the land". Maui as an island is a result of the convergence of the lava flows of 2 dormant and not so dormant volcanoes one each on its east and west side. Thereby providing a classic combination of pristine beaches and lofty mountain peaks all within a stretch of a few tens of miles. We were staying on the touristy side of the island, the west side, with all its resorts and shopping areas and miles of pristine beaches lapping at the foot of these resorts. Our hotel too was right on the beach...and our love affair with multistorried buildings continued as we were put up in a room on the top floor of a 12 floor building, with a view of the magnificient ocean right from the balcony or as it is locally known the lanai. The sliding glass door to the lanai would remain open thorughout our stay whenever we were in our room bringing in the sound of crashing waves and the beautiful view of the spotted blue and white of the ocean and the sky.These were pretty much the last things we heard and saw to end that very long day. Our bodies were still operating in Eastern Time and the tossing and turning had taken its due toll as well. So it was lights out for day 1 at 7.30 PM Maui Time.

Testing

This is a new one again...... I just keep updating my tech and so this
ones from the iPhone

Booky World

Just finished reading "Atlas Shrugged" for the 3rd time and it still remains a momentous piece of literature. I was falsely assuming that my world views had changed over the years....that I wouldn't be able to associate myself with the extreme circumstances described in the novel, that I had wizened (?) from the last time I had read it. I heartily admit that allz status quo. In fact I can actually find patches of the extreme social behavior described in it in my own world. But I will refrain from delving into the details because I really find it all too depressing and furthermore I am not qualified enough to actually post a commentary on this great book and its social relevance to today. So I will leave the heavy lifting to the experts which I understand are far and wide.....Though I can't stop myself from quoting a line which I find particularly fantastic :

Contradictions do not exist. Whenever you think that you are facing a contradiction,check your premises. You will find that one of them is wrong.

I'll leave the bakar on this particular book at that but keeping to the topic of books. I finally managed to join the local public library last weekend and I am now free to plunder its wealth "at the walk of a few steps" rather than the more popular cousin of this phrase "at the click of a button". The problem though is that, hence empowered, I have no idea of what to do with that power. And its precisely here that I would like to take a Jab at our political system and at the world in general...The people in power more often than not don't know how to use that power constructively. And thus as a living proof of that, I wandered the great halls filled with books from all walks of life unable to decide on what I should be looking for. Finally the cobwebs in my head cleared, and I settled for a piece of Science Fiction by Arthur C. Clarke. Also picked up "The Google Story". I am already halfway through the prior and intend on hitting the library again this weekend to replenish my stock. Current favorite : science fiction.

Criticism!!

I have posted quiet a few videos on youtube, 5 to be precise and every now and then I keep getting comments on some of them. I got a comment on one of them half an hour back.....and wasn't a really favorable one...in short it said ...I sucked. I diligently blocked the user and removed the comment from my page. Was I right or wrong in doing so...or am I a sore loser who can't take criticism?
Now that I think of it...I really would have liked to go on the profile of that commenter and check out any videos that he/she might have posted and then judge him/her.
Or I am taking all this a tad too seriously....

hell...I am no Superman!!

Colourblind-ed

Accidentally got hold of a website. It belongs to one of the members, Siddharth Acherakar, of a band named Colourblind. They published their one and only self-titled album back in 1997. I caught hold of the cassette in my early college days from a friend. Played it on and on in the retarded blue and red cassette player which was sort of a hostel whore, it being owned universally by the hostel. The tape was much abused too and I finally lost it somewhere in between times. I am no music critique but I can make out good from bad and these guys were genuinely great. Don know what went wrong but they might have made it big someday. The other guy in fact has. Ram Sampath is a music director of sorts.

Such long lost things cloud the mind with nostalgia as I see myself cruising in my dad's zen, windows open, stereo turned way up, blaring "colourblind". I am contemplating on writing a mail to this guy. His site has a contact address. Just as an appreciation for their effort at doing something great. I have got hold of all the songs again and theirs a video as well on the ubiquitous youtube. The video's abstract and pretty well made I think. Take a look here.

Next up is the effort to play the song . I will be trying to decipher the tabs myself as nothing seems to be available on the net. Much grief and frustration to follow.

Guitar Heaven!!

The kit is complete. And its high time for the Iron Maidens and Metallicas of this world to stand in awe at the total destruction of their concentrated efforts at greatness. And right about now is when you chip in and say, no dude, why would you say that you'll destroy there music, you play darn well. And I'll give a sheepish grin and say, Well If you say so, because I really don't think I am much of a player. And we live happily ever after with you immune to my playing and I blissful in my ignorance.

Alas, If everything would be that simple,ow beautiful the world would be. But it is not, because NO you are not immune from my playing and YES I am still blissful in my ignorance. I will keep nibbling at your psyche with my attempts on Youtube one song at a time. And if you end up banishing the internet completely, I will hunt you down to the ends of this earth and solar system, my guitar and amps and all in tug, and make you sit and listen to it. And just when you though it was over, I would break that final frontier and make you head bang to it. All this pessimism is the result of my efforts with the kit yesterday night. If just one session could conjure up such reactions, imagine a whole weekend at that. I myself shudder even at the thought. Let us not be self loathsome now and head straight into narcissism. Over the duration of last couple of weeks I have amassed an Epiphone Les Paul Special II electric guitar, a 15 W Epiphone Amp, a couple dozen picks of varied thickness, a Digitech RP150 processor, a headphone so I could listen myself deaf to the combined madness of the aforementioned gear and a good couple of miles of instrument cable so I can trip and re-trip on them everytime I try to move in my apartment. My wife has completely denied from being in the same room as me with the gear and every now and then just throws in the dinner and other assorted food items to my face from the tiny opening in the door. Food , Guitar and me, in no specific order. Bliss!

PS: babe, can you throw-in that bag of chips and some chunky salsa!!

Placid in Pics!

	Heading into the bubble beater!!
Thats the wing of our yellow plane....while landing back.
	The enchanting mist on the Lake!

Placid Redemption

I now have a photograph to go with the title of my blog "Road to nowhere...". The photograph is not actually of a road and it does go somewhere, but life's not so straightforward and I have found the hidden meaning of that snap. Whatever that meaning might be. I will be updating my profile with it soon. Or at least post it with this one.

Moving on to the trip that led me to the aforementioned monumental event. I have always been a fan of travelling. And this blog initiated as more of a travelogue than anything else. The photograph seems to have brought me back to my basics. So be it. The preparations for this trip had started way back in the beginning of time when the earth had crawled out as a tiny piece of rock from the primordial soup and my beloved wife was smart enough to figure out then that it would lead to this damn fine trip. The name of the destination is true to its ancient origins. Lake Placid. Funny though we ended up nowhere close to it. We stayed on The Mirror Lake . Whitewater Rafted on The Indian lake. Had breakfast on Saranac Lake. Clicked the 1 millionth snap of the trip on Cascade Lake. Run over some ducks on Tupper Lake. Drove right into the-lake-that-had-no-name. Okie so the last couple of things are obviously not true. And no we didn't click just 1 million snaps, the number was actually close to a billion gazillion. But you get the drift. There's no lake placid in the entire story.

And I just realised that I have killed my entire blog in a genius stroke of sentence construction. I'll play dumb though and pretend I never wrote that ,continuing with my story in chronological order. It was a labor day weekend and it was our holiday, we being bonded labors my wife and myself. So we just thought of going crazy. Started on Saturday morning drove through minor traffic jams while leaving Jersey and entering NY state and listening to all sorts of non-sensible and at times fine music we reached the destination in good time. The last 30 miles were particularly scenic with lakes and mountains and gorgeous valleys and trees with just a hint of yellow to keep us company. First on the agenda was this 20 minute flight in one of those single propeller planes. Our camera died on us so I don't have a snap to show the entire plane. But I have caught a few glimpses of the wings and the views from the plane as proof. It was a bright yellow colored cute little thing, swaying and holding its own in the brisk winds of Adirondack valley. We had a birds eye view of the North and South Lake Placid, the tear drop shaped origin of the Hudson river and the two highest mountains of the region among the other things. Here's the website for anyone interested.

Scenic flight....check.

Found a decent Italian place right across our hotel. I am maintaining my distance with fowl, so I opted for the pasta with shrimp. The next few minutes were just slurps and burps with both my wife and myself forgetting existence of the other and just hogging. It was the only meal of our day. Tanks full, we took a leisurely stroll on the banks of the Mirror Lake. It was a little chilly and we had caught the glimpse of the indoor heated pool and jacuzzi in the Hotel while checking in. Ever the Desis to utilise the facilities offered to the fullest we quickly headed to the artificially heated pool. Nature be damned its payback time for the hotel for charging us exorbitant amounts of money.

Swimming Pool and Jacuzzi...check.

Sunday started early and was worth all the effort. The views from the hotel patio were breathtaking. Fog hanging over the picturesque Mirror lake and the baby orange of the sun's first rays illuminating it was fascinating. Drove almost 2 hours to reach Indian Lake. The drive is meant to be done on a motorcycle with its curving roads of highs and lows. I so missed my ThunderBird. In fact there was a Harley Convention scheduled for Monday in Lake Placid so there were bikes a-plenty of all sizes , shapes and color with their ever the dude riders. We crossed so many different lakes on our way with view after view of serene beauty that there was no point keeping track of the names. Next up was a hunt for the White water Rafting gig. I being ever the lazy bum had skipped the reservations hoping that we being the erstwhile Queen and King of the Kingdom of Lazistan would be treated to a royal welcome and club class seats to the raft. Welcome it surely was with No Vacancy signs hanging all around. I quickly tapped into my reserve of good luck and evil mixed together and stole the berths of not 2 but 3 unsuspecting desis whose only crime was to follow IST(Indian Standard Time) and arriving an hour late. My wife allayed my fears of eternal damnation by rightly pointing that we have already sinned enough to be dispatched to hell and back 3 times over and this act of pure evil would only prove to be a confirmation of our tickets to the same. Speaking of hell, my wife again raised an interesting point. The all mighty sentries at the gates must sure have changed their requirements to enter the cozier part of after life namely heaven because if not with the exponential rise of sins committed these days, heaven must be a really empty place. Damn Sure it must be. And now I would like to officially put a disclaimer on the views expressed on the existence of heaven, hell , afterlife so an so forth as views expressed solely by my wife and the blog and author thereof holding no responsibility for the same. So we made the cut and were on board a rattling bus to this launching point for rafts armed with life jackets and big blue and yellow pedals. There was quiet a bee line of rafts to enter the water before us.

The White Water Rafting part was quiet a roller coaster ride. Scary and apprehensive to begin with, exhilarating and immense fun there on and dragging in the end. I was donning the lead position in the raft and it was like an (Inter)National Integration convention in the boat. A couple from Canada, a family of 4 originally from Romania settled in Maryland , the instructor and navigator a local and my wife and myself the desis temporarily settled in Jersey. All of us were just settling in the raft when to every ones surprise the Romanian girl decided to take a dip in the water and made a lunge for it. No she wasn't suicidal. Life saved 1, scared like hell - priceless. Quiet a lot of good rapids followed and thankfully there were no more lunges in the water from anyone else. Also swam in the slower parts of the river and jumped into the water from the top of a rock good 15ft above water. They called it the bubble beater, everyone else called it the whirlpool of drowning. It was one monster of a rapid just pulling everyone under and pounding them hard. We did a good 4-5 rotations under the swirling water before escaping unharmed with the loss of just a pedal. The water gradually died down and we were almost stagnant for a good part of a couple of hours. This was the dragging part of the whole thing. To top it off were the lifeless jokes of our navigator. But better sense prevailed, everyone jumped in to share their own sense of humor and we finished the expedition on a very happy note and great bonding. The navigator was very good at what she was supposed to do but a tad sad with the sense of humor part. No ones perfect after all.

White Water Rafting.....Sore bum and aching body but check definitely.

Came back, opted for yet another pasta, more slurping, lesser talking, only meal of the day again. Slept like there was no tomorrow. There were no specific plans for Monday and we had to check out by 11 in the morning. Did some lazy walks around the Winter Olympic Centre of Lake Placid, clicked a few more snaps, did some long-sought-after-faded-black-jeans shopping from the gap Outlet in the vicinity and headed for Sarnac Lake for our breakfast. It was on the way back from Sarnac Lake that the monumental photograph was clicked on a rarely used railway line heading into nowhere and coming from nowhere.

Fought through crazy traffic on our way back into Jersey to finish of what we had started. And finally my dearest wife candidly said that she kinda had fun this time around. Thanku thanku dear lady, finally you liked something that I planned.

Fine trip ....check , check and check!!

PS : A few snaps to follow. I just couldn't resist the urge to post at least a couple of the gazillion ones that I have been talking about all along.

Withered in Chicago..

Back from Chicago. I am now officially looking for a big city that's land locked and is not located on the shores of an ocean. And yes, I count lake Michigan as an ocean because its just plain stupid to name a water body as large as that , a lake. I have visited San Fransisco , Boston , NY City , now Chicago, Orlando. Okie so the last one doesn't count, but I have to show the numbers to make my point, so I'll keep it there. Apart from the ocean view, there are very many things that are common to these cities and especially the downtown areas. Each has a couple of really really HIGH rises, which invariably have an observatory on the 86th, 91st ,106th floors, take your pick, with a breathtaking view of the surroundings for nocturnal and general viewing pleasures. Each has a huge public open space, NYC has central park, Chicago has Grant Park which the respective locals claim to be the best ever in the history of mankind. Each has a boat cruise that goes around the city inducing ohhhs and ahhhs from the unsuspecting commuters for the absolutely amazing skyline that the city has to offer. And all of them claim to be the hubs of culture and trade, every last one of them people. The unseen, namely the LA's and San Diego's and Seattle's might be no different either. But I guess its the subtle differences in this similarity that attract the hoards of tourists to throng to these cities. NYC has its times square. San Fransisco has its Golden Gate Bridge. Chicago has its Navy Pier.
I just can't stop myself from making this comparison now. Even if this just stems from my inner vice in proving that why India is better. Indian cities, Mumbai, Delhi, Chennai, Kolkata, Bangaloroo or whatever its name is ,are poles apart from each other in all respects. Though each of them is a cosmopolitan with people of all backgrounds calling it their home every one of them has its own distinct localized influence. May it be with the dialect, the food, the commute or the people themselves. Mumbai has its bhel puri, bambiyaa slangs ,and the infamous locals. Delhi has its chole bhature, its clean hindi obscenities, and the deadly blue line buses. Kolkata has its macher jhol, nomoshkaar, and the trams. So on and so forth. They are all so different and so rich in their own distinct cultures.

Coming back to Chicago though. It indeed is a beautiful place and I liked it a lot. The current visit was an official trip but it also was a reconnaissance mission on behalf of my strategic command post in jersey city, read my wife. The foot soldier had gone to scout for locations to plunder in Chicago and the foot part was proved right to the T. I am literally half an inch shorter than my original height due to all the walking that I have done in that one afternoon and evening. I stand now at 5' 11 and a half ''. Yes I am not a 6 footer now.

PS: Neha dearest ignore the strategic command post line, you are no tyrannical general. I don't know who wrote that part. I love you!!

Aftereffects...

The concert proved thoroughly entertaining, so thorough in fact that I couldn't pen down the experience for a week. Now that the week has passed and the stars have aligned in their pristine glory for an auspicious date and time, I forge ahead with typing down all of it.

I have already forgotten quiet a few details , so I might make up stuff, just to add to the excitement.

It was a late Saturday afternoon on a quiet sunny NJ day, when I began the road trip down to lets call it Bryandale NJ because I don't seem to recall the exact name of the place and I don't have the inclination to actually look it up. Because there in an obvious chance that I might lift off on a tangential journey from there on and never come back to edit this post again. So the show was supposed to begin at 6.30 in the evening, but the utter enthusiast (read over zealous and stupid) that I am managed to reach the place a good hour and a half before. Now my fellow concert goers had informed me that I should expect bunch of people camping in the parking lot besides enormous SUV's of this country blaring Bryan's songs on there stereos. To my utter surprise it was all true with just a minor glitch , they were playing songs of some thorogood guy rather than Bryan who happens to be a big rock N roll star from the yesteryear's. WTF, I thought, we are at the wrong place and its good that we were smart enough to come early. Now we can still reach the right place without being late. It turns out we were at the right place and Bryan was supposed to play AFTER this thorogood guy. So in the spirit of the concert I tried to wade through my minds library for any songs that might resonate with the name thorogood. None. Deep breaths, breathe in, breathe out, don't panic. You might still be able to salvage this. I tried to listen in to the songs that were being played across the parking lot, and after a few agonizing minutes I could make out the sounds of a couple of songs, most notably, Bad to the bone with flash of a leather bound Arnold Schwa$@*#&& , whatever his surname is, stepping out of a dilapidated bar in T2 and Moving on Over with no such flashes. Hi Fives and punches in the air. I won't be sitting like a jackass in the concert. There were serpentine queues on the entry gates, me being the head of one of the serpents thanks to the lead time. We were at the concert arena well before Bryan had ever thought of singing in the first place in his native Canada. Lawn chairs secured, sleeping bags rolled in front, umbrellas over our head, did I mention Mr Sun himself had come down half a distance just to scorch people that day, we were all set. Bring on Mr Thorogood. It took a good part of an hour for any live action to start on the stage but around me there was no dearth of action. Plenty of kids crying, guys getting drunk already and women who should never have worn anything less than a circus tent parading in skimpy clothes. Ohh the horror. But the actual action turned out to be pleasantly melodious with guitars riffs flying through the air and pounding drums getting the beat going raising my rock crazy spirit. A fitting opening act, I must say, to the amazing music that was to follow. It cemented my belief that a live act far supersedes anything recorded and even if you are listening to it for the first time in your life. Enough said.

Finally Bryan arrived on stage with There ll never be another tonight and the crowd erupted. The set list went something like this:

Can't stop this thing we started
I need somebody
Kids wanna rock
Life is an open road
18 till I die
Let's make a night to remember
Back to you
Summer of 69
Everything I do
Cuts like a knife
Baby when you re gone (with the person from the crowd)
Its only love
Heaven
Only thing that looks good on me
Run to you
Straight from the heart
All for love

In fact this is the precise set list because I was typing it down on my blackberry during the concert. The gifts of technology I tell you. I was singing along throughout minus the time I spent typing that is. Bryan did his customary "call-a-person-from-the-crowd-and-make-her-sing" routine, which has been duly noted in the set list. Damn I am good!
In all a divine experience which I would definitely like to repeat with other monks of the business namely, St. Metallica, Guru Iron Maiden and others in the upper echelons of Rock divinity. The setting would have been complete if I would have come back and played a couple of the above mentioned songs on my guitar, but alas the sleeping monster in me awoke and St Bryan had to migrate to my dreams.

PS : The thorogood guy actually has a name. He goes by George Thorogood and is accompanied by the Destroyers. And he is thoroughly good.

Bard and Bryan.

In my perennial hunt for the weird on the net and the world in general, I came across this. Its added on my personalized google page as a daily dose of Shakespearean Insults. I sincerely do not understand 99% of them , but then an insult is not meant to be understood in the first place rather its meant to be thrown at you in disgust and its supposed to hurt you. I quote the Bard :

"Thou caluminous dismal-dreaming flirt-gill!"

Now it doesn't sound that bad does it, nothing that could make your blood boil and seep out of your ears in the form of molten lava. Thats the beauty of language. Whats one linguists heaven could be the others hell ,so on and so forth.

Speaking of another kind of language, the language of music. I am off to a Bryan Adams concert tomorrow night. As it happens to be the case ,my first post on this blog was inspired by a Bryan Adams number. So all the madness on this blog over the last 2 something years could simply be blamed on him. Looking forward to having a good time.

Bored

What does bored to death mean? Let's see what it could possibly imply :

1) That you are bored and you wanna die. Okie now here I have justed picked up the keywords of the question, put them in a mixer added a few other words like that,and etc. and just let the motor of the mixer do the sentence formation. So this is obviously as correct an explanation as the answer to one of the essay type questions in your civics paper.

2) That you were killed by a hole drilled in your body. Now that sure is quiet a possible meaning in a horror flick. But lets not get into imaginary perverts and their drilling machines. Its too gory a picture.

3) Another one from the mixer. The person sitting next to you in a train is a chatter box and he has been going on and on ,like all chatter boxes have the legal right to do, about how his job sucks and his wife is cheating on him and the neighbors dog shits in his lawn and so an so forth and the only ray of hope, as you see it, to survive from this excruciating mental torture is to die and go to heaven. Okie hell for you. Yes we are getting close.

But lets not get too close to the actual meaning lest we offend the phrase and it in turn accepts one of the above mentioned explanations and in the process dies.

PS : I am bored to death, whatever that means. You happy now Mr. Phrase?

Observe

After reading umpteen blogs, I have finally come to a conclusion and thus the reason for the infrequency of my blogs. I don't observe enough. I just don't notice things happening around me.That and a copious amount of laziness. yupp, thats about it.I degress though, people on the other hand have mastered the art of observing and taken it many a nothches higher by adding the garnish of their imaginations on it and keybording it down into some darn funny blogs. I have always considered myself a "funny guy" per se and it really hurts my ego to know that my capability of tormenting people with my raunchy humour is being laid to waste just by the virtue of my being non observent. shame on me. So off I go about denouncing myself and dusting out those non - observent eye glasses of mine.

I observe so I blog :

1) That I can time how late I am for work by observing the clock. No that would have been a horrible PJ. Actually I can time it by observing the position(you pervert!!), ok distance of a fine young lady from the PATH station. Of I catch her at the entrance I am spot on time, if on the outside steps then I will be missing that 3rd bagel from the street vendor, if while crossing the road then there goes my 7th position in the line for the office coffee machine...so on and so forth. And okay, I am obsessed with food.

2) That just today I saw a guy tearing out a small piece of paper from the road side flyer for writing a number. Buddy haven't you stolen enough post-its and spiral notebooks from the office stationary room to start a dollar store of your own. Its a piece of marketing dammit , don't treat it as your personal stationary.

3) That the steel rimmed shades that I have been much proudly donning lately are favoured more by the opposite sex. I have spotted atleast 7 different ladies sporting them. I stopped counting thereafter just out of shame.

4) That more often than not, I end up having a walkathon with my fellow un-suspecting commuters who are merely crawling to and from their way home. And I treat it as a personal challenge if a person walks past and ahead of me, promptly overtaking him even if I have to make a dash for it, thereby re-establishing my supremacy on all people walking.

5) And now to epitomize by observing qualities, it has come to my notice that lack of a keen eye on my part is solely attributed to the blackberry that dangles from my belt, which more often than not is in my hands with my eyes fixated on it reading the antics of one Mr Jason Bourne in Honk Kong and thereby vanchiting (pardon the parallel slaughter of 2 great languages here) me from the amazing experiences of the NY subway.

PS : All the people who don't use the NY subway have real dull lives.

Coasting Along...

I am in an existential phase these days. Living for the moment kind of stuff. As if I was ever the visionary. Infact I have never thought beyond a couple of weeks bar a few momentus occasions in my life. I am more the "take life as it comes" kind of a guy. But its always good to start a blog emphatically, it gives the reader that sense of greatness. All Bull!

So to the existensial things that crave for my attention these days, in no cronological or any specific kind of order for that matter of fact.

Shares : Good portion of my work day. And minor portion of the remaining is spent on various sites in further varying degrees of information on the latest in stocks. In one of those bar occasions that I think of the future, I see myself chucking this I(dio)T job and retiring to this crazy market governed life. I keep reminding my biwi on my ideas of retiring early and she keeps shrugging them off like Federer lobbing his opponents ball for clean winners. My dear wife, I just might prove to be your Nadal on clay off course!!

Guitar : The quinessential pass time, major source of bouts with my biwi and a source of eternal happiness for me. Trying to play out a few Indian Classical Ragas on it these days. With help from my dad sending in mp3's from India to listen and learn from and a few youtube videos here and there. Quiet a mix. The conflict arising from the fact that the guitar equally competes for my attention with neha. Well, so many fans so little time!! But she rules eventually, because she has the power of emotions you know.

My beloved wife Neha : This ones a shade too existential, infact my existense depends on her. Literally. Perennial source of pleasure and pain. I am a non efficient, lazy bum in her eyes and she consistently tries to straighten me out, but me ever the survivor, prevail with my lazy ways. The battle rages on !!

Add to that a few blogs that I follow, occasional movies, card playing sessions with neha, and regular "against my wish" visits to the Mall, that about sums it all.

Not bad at all, huh ??

Another techno

This ones coming from my new blackberry. Although there isn't anything terribly interesting to write home about , writing on a blackberry and posting via email in itself is a worthy topic. So let me keep it short and sweet this time around. But there would be bigger and badder ones following this one.

Cheers..

buy, buy, buy!!

The Indian Stock Market is at its dizzying highs and investors across the board are holding their breath in anticipation for the pitfall with the bears or a rally with the bulls. This last statement of mine is a mixed bag of cliches and jargons, which a few years back would have meant zilch to a good percentage of population in India. But thanks to the ever mushrooming 24X7 news channels and other unsolicitated and un-sought after sources, its fast becoimg a part of everyday lingo. Atleast in the tiny little subset of people I interact with on a regular basis. Money , as usual, is the source of all the limelight. Infact make it obscene amounts of money which has attracted people from all walks of life into this dangerous business of share trading. I have been brought up in a conservative family, wherein all business is evil and share trading in particular is the absolute sin. The notority reinforced by the likes of Mr. Harshad Mehta who were making the spectacular headlines when I was growing up.

Things have changed since then, I myself have been trading for the past couple of years, with a non-noticable change in bank balance and a few un-realized gains in my portfolio to boast of. As in most of my recent adventures the partner of crime in this one too is one Mr Rathore. He introduced me to the game. I have been changing gears lately, first I went solo and now I have a new partner, my beloved wife. Though Mr. Rathore has taken a forced sabbatical for a few days, hes just lurking around to re-enter.

Now my beloved, she-who-dreams-of-an-MBA-someday is someone who approaches this with quiet a bit of enthusiasm. I pretend to be the cool , sauve guy with all the gyaan. I personally never started trading as a means of making money. It was more of a thrill , the rush that it gave with every antics of the stocks that you owned. And it was mostly governed by the hot tips from anonymous analysts and friends that trggered the buying and selling of a particular stock. Although the hot tips are still quiet sought after today too, there is an analysis (although very basic) which gets added post the hot tip. And I have a relatively stable portfolio to show that off.

All said and done, this business of trading equities looks to be a permanent fixture of my life in the near future and a source of many a heated discussions adding another colour to my already rainbow(ish) married life.

God save the markets!!