Snapshots from Chhattisgarh

Last year both P and I went to Chhattisgarh, a state we had never been to and came back with some wonderful memories. I have written about it here. After 6 months we were going through the photographs and I came across few which are indeed more special. Not because they are some spectacular clicks; but because each of these photographs carry a story in it.

Chhattisgarh has so much to offer

That mesmerizing Chitrakote fall. We witnessed this majestic fall in it's full glory as we had gone there while it was still raining. Yeah, the water was muddy; not clean and sparkling like the brochures. But this roaring water had it's own charm. We did not get to see Sunrise and Sunset because of the clouds. Instead we saw the water fall when a storm was approaching. It was dark, grey and that fading light cast a magical spell to the whole evening. We stayed back till it started to pour and it was an absolutely out of the world experience.

Chitrakote as a storm approached


Actually we were in Chitrakote to celebrate my birthday. On the day we woke up at 5am hoping to catch up the sunrise. But the clouds played spoilt sport. Sitting near the water fall just 2 of us were enjoying the solitude thoroughly. Suddenly a boy comes and picks up a conversation with P. He had come as band member who was supposed to perform in some rally at the Government guest house near the resort we were staying. His name was Lakhiram and he played Banjo. We kept meeting him till on and off till the day we left Chitrakote. He just seem to come from nowhere whenever we were there. Untouched by the complexities of life, his simple dreams may come true soon.

Lakhiram

The priest at the temple near Teerathgarh fall. Our experience at such places have not been really good. Usually at such touristy places, there is always someone trying to fleece you and when  you tell them you were there because that happen to be a special day; you can be sure he will find a way to rip you off. When P told the priest that that day was my birthday and asked him to offer a puja on our behalf; I was almost sure now the priest would come up with an elaborate puja ceremony. But to my utter surprise the priest just looked at us and chanted some mantra as we both folded our hands and gave us coconut pieces as Prasad. He did not say a word about offering this puja that puja and ask for any "chadawa" or cash offering or "fee".

The Priest

The artist whose shop we happen to visit by sheer chance. As we were leaving Chitrakote to go to Gangrel, P said let's stop near the fall for one last time. We did and there we noticed those lines of small shops selling little artefacts. We stopped at this particular shop where the guy was working on something so intently. As far as I remember, his name was Raju.Very soft spoken he showed us the pieces he has made. They were all so beautiful. We bought 2 pieces from him. Everything in the shop were made by him and the prices were so reasonable that P paid him what he asked for. The previous day we had gone to different shops in the Jagdalpur town and we knew the prices these shops charged for similar artefacts. This man made everything himself and he never asked for an exorbitant price from 2 "tourists". Do visit his shop near the Shiva temple next to Chitrakote fall. Trust me you will not regret stopping there.

Chhattisgarh remains in the news for more wrong reasons than right. This is a beautiful state and has so much to offer from the tourism point of view. It's a state marred by disturbance and conflict. I am not capable of commenting on this. But I also come from a region which was once considered to be very disturbed and a conflict area. But life has become "normal" now in Assam. While growing up and even now a common sight in towns and villages of Assam is the sight of girls and boys going to school riding a bicycle. More so in villages and smaller towns. This very sight in Chhattisgarh made me the happiest. It was a sign, the new generation growing up values education; they want to spread their wings and may be one day bring the much needed change to their state. I hope they do and soon.

I loved this sight the most



That Fragrance on Indian TV...



I am not a TV buff. Actually I used to be one. Now I don't care much. But yes I have few favorite shows still and but I am not hooked onto them. In other words if I miss one episode, I don't care. Now I mostly watch Travel shows, Food shows or Music shows like Coke Studio or Unplugged. I do not follow hugely popular Big Boss or Roadies or any other "reality show". There was a time I could spend hours on TV watching this serial, this reality show, that talent hunt. My mother would be fed up. My earliest memory of TV are the shows like Fairy Tale Theatre, Vikram Betaal, Dada Dadi ki kahaniyan. I used to spend all my Sunday afternoons watching those award winning regional films. Those were the best days of Doordarshan. Then cable TV came to India and the scenario changed. So many channels so many shows to watch. Along with many shows that time, I even watched Zee Horror show and Ahaat . I loved Hum Paanch, Saans, Kora Kagaz, Shanti. There were shows that portrayed such strong women characters. I shudder to think how did we manage to come from Shanti and Priya ( characters which made Mandira Bedi and Neena Gupta hugely popular) to Nagins and Kaala Tika ( black spot!). Should  I still care to know which show comes on which channel? BTW I know of this shows because since there is nothing much on TV, I just flip through channels and giving each one about 2 minutes. I am referring to GECs here.



So 'If I Could Create A TV Show’ what type of a show will I create? Hmm Let me think.

If I could create a TV show I think I will create a show like Surabhi.  I think many of my age will know which show I am referring to. Surabhi means Fragrance and this show spread such a fragrance across the country which many people still remembers well.This is the cult show which used come on Doordarshan and made Renuka Sahane and Siddharth Kak, the hosts, household names. It was a show everyone in our family would sit together and watch . Renuka Sahane, her bright smile and awesome handloom sarees were what the ladies used to talk about. And Siddharth Kak with his wit and gentle humour made the show a cult one. He was also the producer of the show.

The famous hosts. 

This Culture Magazine showed a part of India in each episode which the rest of India looked forward to see and know about, week after week. The stories, the views, the famous quiz at the end of each episode all were so interesting. Everyone would learn something at the end of each episode. I remember in one episode it showed Avadh Assam Express, then an incredulously slow train. I am not sure if the situation has improved now. I hope so. But that was a sadly hilarious feature to which all in our home in Dibrugarh laughed and felt bad too.

And who can forget that famous title music. It can still transform me to my teen years and those glorious days of Doordarshan and Television in India over all.

Here have a look and listen.

Surabhi ran for 9 seasons and from DD it moved to Star Plus later. But the show ended in 2001 and that's why we miss it.

And most importantly,  'If I Could Create A TV Show’ it will end too after a decent number of episodes. There may be seasons 1,2,3, till 50. But each season must end after 20-25 episodes. 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.




20Feb'16

Goa in Monsoon - A tragicomic memory.

Love is better when you Laugh together!




Goa in monsoon - that's what both P and I wanted to do for a long time. So finally in 2013, we planned ahead and booked a train to Goa during July sometime. As luck would have it, that year monsoon decided to play hide and seek in Mumbai. It was hardly raining and when we got into the train, we were literally chasing the rain. We boarded the train from Dadar station early in the morning at around 7/7.30am. Even as the train moved out of the city limits we could make out the signs of a sparse monsoon. So much for our much awaited train to Goa during monsoons! We were already disappointed. The train moved through the green paddies and villages with drops of rain here and there. But too few and far between.  Adding to our disappointment was the fact that the train was running late by hour or so.  The only saving grace was the food on the train. We decided to at least to enjoy the hot and fresh medu vadas, bread pakodas, and vada pavs on the train. Finally after 12 hours of a long and tiring train journey we reached Goa in the evening. By that time the romantic idea of being in Goa during the rains had died a sad death!




Now to the hotel that P had pre booked. Since it was only for 2 nights, we thought of staying near the most happening part of Goa, near Baga beach. In all our previous and even later trips to Goa, we always stay somewhere else deliberately avoiding the over crowded Baga and Calangute beaches. We reached the hotel, checked in and after a shower headed out for dinner. As we stepped out of the hotel, we found a place to rent a bike and promptly rented a scooter. Had dinner in a quiet place and came to hotel and went to sleep.




Next morning we went to restaurant for breakfast. The room rate was inclusive of breakfast it was mentioned when we sent the booking request. There was no buffet. Accepted, since it was officially off season no buffet. The server gave us 2 slices each and a cup of tea. We asked him "What about breakfast?" He nonchalantly replied "This is breakfast." WHAT? Now that's it. 2 slices and a cup of tea cannot be passed off as breakfast in a hotel. That too in the most touristy area of one of the most touristy states of India. Unacceptable. P went to the manager and told him that. Manager refused to understand or acknowledge what we were trying to say. He kept saying the same thing - this is what we offer as breakfast. Then he called someone and handed over the phone to P saying please speak to our ma'm. P tried his best to make the lady at the other end understand. But the lady refused again and again and asked us to leave the hotel if we didn't like what they were offering. We both were dumbfounded. We were being thrown out of a hotel and we were not even shouting or creating a ruckus. Since we were asked to pay at the hotel, we offered the room rent for one night. The manager refused that again. We insisted but he was adamant that his "ma'm" asked us to leave and instructed him not to accept any money from us. Finally we came to our room, packed our bags and left on the rented scooter parked outside the hotel. Both P and I were quiet and shocked at what had just happened. He just rode the scooter and I sat on the pillion quietly. He kept driving and I didnot ask where were we going. We reached Anjuna and he stopped. Both got down from the scooter, looked at each other and burst out laughing - we were just thrown out of a hotel for asking for breakfast. Both of us have been to so many places across the country, stayed in so many hotels, from homestays to 5 stars; but this had never happened. We felt like college kids who were thrown out from a hotel for not having money to pay. At last P said " They have thrown us out for asking for breakfast. Now let's go and atleast have a hearty brunch somewhere."




Rest is short. We came back to Baga, returned the scooter and ate out hearts out at Britto's. We booked flight tickets for the same day and flew back by 3pm. And guess what, while on our way to the Dabolim airport, it started pouring and it poured and poured till we reached airport. It was as if the sky also cracked up with laughter with us.




This is not Baga..But Ashwem beach in Goa.

Life sometimes throws lemons at you and both I and P firmly believe that it's up to us whether to make lemonade or use it for tequila shots. But we both agree that the lemons must not get wasted.

“This post is a part of #LoveAndLaughter activity at BlogAdda in association with Caratlane.”

Looking back on R day!

As India celebrates her 67th Republic Day today, I realized I have started to take the day for granted. It has become just a holiday and more importantly if it falls on Friday or Monday, then I end up planning a short trip. But I still watch the R day parade if I have an access to TV on that day.


But there was a time when it meant more. I grew up in an Assam where once Republic Day and Independence Day were celebrated with lot of vigor and enthusiasm and then a time came when these days were seen as days one should be extra cautious and at any cost avoid going out.


My earliest memory of R day is of my primary school in Dibrugarh. That was in mid 1980s. I remember getting up early and getting ready to go to school where Head Mistress would hoist the flag. All the children would gather and sing the national anthem and the state anthem.We would be home by 10 - 10.30 am and then father would take out the flag and put it up somewhere in our house. All the houses in the neighbourhood would have the flag flying from the window, at the terrace, on a pole near the garage! Then as the sun set, dad would pull down the flag and neatly fold it and keep it inside, again to be brought out on 15th Aug. Then in the late 1980s / early 1990s  the scene changed. The ULFA called for boycotting these "Indian days" celebrations and there would be a bandh called on those days. During those violent days of Assam, we stopped this practice of hoisting the national flag in our schools, colleges and homes. R Day and I Day were the days, pre and post which we had to be extra cautious, extra careful because there would be violence somewhere. A blast, may be few killings, a terror attack. When the nation everywhere else celebrated R day and I day, we spent those days inside our homes; strictly barred from venturing out. But everyone in the family would sit in front of TV and watch the R day parade each year. That continued for a long time and I still do that.


After many years in 2009 in our Guwahati home, we hoisted the flag on Independence day that year. In 2010 I moved to Mumbai. This practice is no longer there in our home in Assam. Not even in our home in Mumbai. Today while going for morning walk, I saw the Society next to the garden had made the arrangement for a flag hoisting ceremony and it made me look back at my childhood memories of R day. I need to get a flag before I day and hoist it. Just like that.

The Tri Colour on I day 2009 in Guwahati

Home - A feeling , few lines.

"How long will be able to keep them protected? Let them spread their wings and fly away. That's the truth of life. Only you and I, oldies will be together." That's what dad used to tell our over protective mom. Our mother was that quintessential hyper Indian mom who would be constantly worried for her children.


I still remember the day I packed my bag and left "home" in the sleepy little town of Dibrugarh to the bigger Guwahati city. That was right after my 10th and I knew that was it - my time to spread my wings and find my horizon. That was the day I was going Away from home.


What did I miss the most during these years? In hostels I missed my whole family and of course "mom cooked" food. I believe "mom cooked" food is something all of us and will continue to miss come what may. Yeah, but eventually in each hostel I stayed, I made a family too. Those girls also away from home, became closer to each other and would find solace in this adopted family of fellow hostel mates. And each of the girls' actual families became each of the other girls' families too. Each visitor had to keep in mind that he was in fact "visiting" at least 5-6 other girls too and must carry chocolates / sweets / snacks accordingly. Girl those were some days!


Then I moved from city to city - hostels, rented places, shared accommodations and back home to mom for a short period before leaving home again - this time to make a home of my own with P. The way mom had left her "home" and made a "home" with dad for us.


I am home now.

Written for the #blogchatter prompt 'Away from home'

Blogchatter is a twitter initiative where bloggers from all spheres connect, engage and support each other in taking blogs to next level. Also every Wednesday we have a chat session at 8.30 PM discussing a range of blogging topics each week. Do tune in!

#Blogchatter 23rd Dec to 30th Dec

I Cannot do without - This!

I don't know how or when exactly I fell for it, but the truth is I just cannot do without this anymore. Whenever it is not with me, I feel restless as if something important is missing in my life. Even P at times shouts " what's important I or this?" Imagine P has a competitor and that too this. By "this" I mean a lip balm. Yes that very same nondescript not so important lip balm.


This is a long story.


As far as I can remember, this happened in a winter while I was still in school. I got a small jar of Vaseline Petroleum Jelly and I was hooked to it. I would apply that on my dry hands and legs and even on small scratches and cuts while playing. I had this problem of cracked lips during winters. In Assam for such things the easy handy remedy is "Boroline". In every household in late eighties and early nineties you would find a Boroline or an Aspoline. Ours was no different. Boroline was the indispensable item in our first aid box at home. Since I could not take that tube to school, hence came the Vaseline Jelly to rescue. I applied that on my lips once and voila "Love happened". That saga of love continues. I have not been too faithful to Vaseline, I have to admit! I have changed brands but my obsession with lip balm continues.


We girls/women have more than one bag. I am also no different. I keep one in every bag so that I don't have to search for one if I change my bag for that day. I learnt that the hard way. Whenever I forgot my lip balm, I had to buy a new one. Thus I ended up with one in each bag. Simple and no tension.


During school, in college, in Gwalior Institute and later in my work places - everyone close to me was / is aware that I have this obsession. It helped them too. A small scratch or cut; there was one lip balm available which could be used as the instant remedy.

Now after years of my lip balm experience let me share one tip for all of you out there : During winters apply Boroline on your face before going to sleep at night. Yeah on your lips too. It works wonders. Ignore if you have very oily skin. And by winter I mean REAL winter where you wear layers of warm clothes, sit next to the fire, sip a cup of hot coffee and discuss a dime a dozen with your loved ones. Not the kind of winter get in Mumbai.








This post was written in response to a #WritePrompt #CannotDoWithout from @Blogchatter - a wonderful platform for bloggers from every genre, that encourages, motivates and educates on everything blogging!

Not a very fond memory ...!

What is the worse travel memory that I have? Honestly I have not thought much about it. But the other day I was reading about The Worst Trip Ever on Natgeo Travel, and it made me think about that too. There have been instances which were not so pleasant. But I don't know why I have never written about them in my blog. Yeah just once I had this really awful experience in Goa ( one of my fav. place) and I wrote about that on Tripadvisor . Here I am today looking back at the one trip which till date my Mom considers as a "very bad trip" and guess what she was not even a part of that trip.


Here is what happened.


It was a school trip. I was in 6th or 7th standard may be. A group of students and 3 teachers were to go to Nagpur from Dibrugarh to take part in some conference / activities by United Schools Organization of India (USO of India). We had practiced really hard for group dance and I was also to take part in Hindi Speech. If I remember correctly the topic was "United we Stand". For us coming from a vernacular medium school (Assamese medium) and from that part of the country where Hindi was not widely spoken; to take part in a speech competition in Hindi was a BIG thing. I practiced and practiced. That was my first trip without parents and family to somewhere so far. We were to reach Kolkata by some train and then from Kolkata get into another train to Nagpur. I do not remember either of the trains names now. My mother was really worried. She met the teachers and told them two hundred times to "take care" of me. In fact one of my batch mate's mother was our teacher and both my friend and her mother were part of the group.
Thus we reached Nagpur without much drama. I took part in group dance and also in that Hindi Speech. I got a consolation prize too :) I came fourth among all those students from "mainland" India where people spoke Hindi more than us. ( That's some consolation for me) So far so good. Now was the time to return. One day all of us went to Nagpur city for sight seeing and shopping. One of the teachers had really gone overboard with her shopping and had 2 bags full of goodies. So when we reached the station to catch Gitanjali Express from Nagpur to Kolkata, we were heavier with more luggage. I am sure if we were to fly, we would have to pay excess baggage. Everyone got into the train. It was a chaos at the station and inside the coach and one bag of that teacher was left behind on platform. She told me that the bag was still outside. I came out quickly to get the bag and the train started moving. My heart skipped a beat and did not know what to do. I just spread my left hand with the heavy bag on my right hand and pleaded to no one in particular "Mujhe chadha do pls" ( Please make me board the train) Someone held my hand pulled me into the train. After few seconds of stunned silence I burst into tears. I did not know where I was, what to do and what will happen now.  I was inside a general compartment which was full with all sorts of things along with people.The people around me made me sit and gave me some water to drink. Then asked me which coach I was booked. I told them my father my brothers all are in this coach. I was scared and wanted to tell those strangers that I was not alone. My family was with me somewhere in this train. I am referring to nineties here. No pager no cell phones. Those strangers were constantly reassuring that since my family is in the same train, in the next station I could go to that coach. I stopped crying and started to pray for the next station to come. When the next station came 2 persons from the general coach took me out and we ran towards the sleeper coaches. From a distance I could see one of my school senior and her father (who was with another school group where he teaches) running obviously looking for me somewhere. I just ran towards them. A quick bye to the strangers and my senior and her father took me back to the correct coach. My teachers and other students could breathe normal only after our reunion which was no less than Bharat - Milap. Later I realized I did not even thank those strangers. My friend's mother's blood pressure had shot up but luckily nothing major happened and I was back. All this while I had the big bag with me. But the teacher whose bag lead to all these drama did not utter a word. Everyone was upset with her. Later things slowly went normal and all of us reached home in one piece.


This was one experience I would always remember. I decided not tell that to my mother and requested my teachers and friends too. Though reluctantly, they agreed. It was much later one day I narrated this to my mother. I was no longer a school student then and had started travelling alone from Dibrugarh to Guwahati. Mother of course was appalled as how could I keep that a secret all these years and let her wildest imagination run wilder and imagined me in all sorts of places ( read red light areas). She was even ready to confront my school teachers after all these years! I calmed her down and made her think of those 2 strangers instead who helped me that day. She is ever grateful and wishes all the luck and happiness in the world for them.


After so many years, that post in NatGeo Traveller made me look back and recall this incident. All the fun and excitement of the trip was overshadowed by this freak incident. Even I could not imagine what could have gone wrong had it not been for those 2 strangers.


Can I confess that whenever someone mentions Gitanjali Express this one memory come rushing back to my mind and I send a silent prayer to those 2 strangers still. But there is always a "what if" that remains.

Gitanjali Express

5 Bollywood songs I so love

I admit I have grown up on heavy dose of Bollywood. Such a filmy keeda I was, that now when they show some of those films on TV, I cringe. How could I and how did I, I wonder. But this also meant listening to many songs; good, bad and ugly. And no matter what, I firmly believe that Bollywood offers a song for every occasion in our lives. So here I am looking back and trying to figure out the 5 Bollywood songs that always bring to mind something special.




1. Tere Bina zindegi se koi : This is the very first love "love song" I fell for in my teen years. I mean such poignant lyrics and when I finally saw the complete film " Aandhi" I realized what the song meant by
" Without you I have no complains against life ;
   But without you there is no life either"

2. O Hansini Meri Hansini : Some songs bring with them a beautiful memory. This one sure brings  the wonderful memories of that special one year in Gwalior at the tourism institute. All my batch mates would agree to this. The scorching summer in Gwalior made us sit out in the lawn till the whistle for girls to return to hostel went off. During such sessions one of our batch mate Mohanty  would sing O Hansini and we all would join in. The wide open lawn, the breeze, the night and Mohanty's silky voice; Memories aah memories.

3. ALL the songs of Hero : I am referring to Subhash Ghai's film Hero. I know I know this film has awesome songs. In my earliest memories of road trips in Assam, the album Hero finds a very special place. It was our driver Robin who was more like a family member and still is, would play the songs. We were too young too choose or pick songs to play. Those trips from Golaghat to Jorhat and Sibsagar with the songs of Hero playing still are so fresh in my mind. And everytime I hear "Tu mera jaanu hai" I remember our old Ambassador car, I, my siblings and my parents travelling in all our excitement to our Grannny's place.

4. Mahi ve : Ok this is a very recent addition and for this I have to thank our cab driver from Srinagar to Leh who played this song. Unlike most public transport drivers, he did not play eighties and nineties tragic hindi songs. This song came up at a time when I was slowly falling for the rugged terrains of Ladakh. From the movie " Highway", this song is THE song for the highway for me now. Everytime I hear this song, I feel the road calling out to me to be on it, going somewhere soaking in the changing landscapes!

5. Yeh Dil Deewana : No heart break story attached here. Just that this was the favorite song of one of my favorite teacher in college - RC sir. In fact most of the students just loved him. In our first year of graduation, he taught us Dr. Faustus and Dylan Thomas' "Poem in October". In all honesty after first few classes of English Literature I was so confused that I wanted to change my subject to History. But slowly then the magic of the gems in English literature unfolded and I could make some sense out of it. A major role is played by RC sir. I have no idea how this song became his favourite, but it was and he would never shy away from admitting that.

This list just a tiny drop in the vast ocean of Hindi songs that I love. But these few songs carry a memory with them. Of course there are others too. But they remain my all time favourite.



PS : I have only shared the links to the videos as found on YouTube. All credits to uploaders of these videos.

As I look back

I guess everyone faces this at some point in their lives. That urge to look back, stop and ponder " What if life had a rewind button or what if life offered an eraser?" What if...Yeah; but alas! that's not to be. The drifter and dreamer I am and now getting nearer to the age when chances of mid -life crisis are more; this stopping and looking back is happening more than before.

The curves of life

Every time I go to the mountains, I feel small. The majestic mountains make me realize how small we actually are. These enormous ancient mountains; standing tall with their head held high like some grand old men ( okay women too). They have seen many ups and downs; season changes, landscape changes! We think, now that we have managed to cut roads through them and now that we can reach on top of them; we have conquered them. But alas! that's again not to be. Mother Nature sure knows how to get even. And when she does, we all know what happens.


My last trip to the mountains was to Leh. I and my other half P; travelled by road from Srinagar to Leh and back. Believe you me when I say this is a road trip which can have a deep effect on your soul. As the green meadows of Sonamarg ends and the mighty Zoji La Pass begins, you realize what you have got into. Those narrow broken roads, constant eyes on the road, one wrong turn and you know what may happen. From Srinagar we had hired a cab. The jovial driver Ghulam singing and talking from the moment we got into his cab in Srinagar; suddenly gone all serious and was concentrating on the roads and only on the roads. There were other cars and bikes coming in between regular intervals. But mostly there were army vehicles. As we crossed the Zoji la and continued with our journey to Kargil and then to Leh by the super smooth and well maintained NH1, we realized that's what life is. We at times come across such hurdles and some are as mighty as the Zoji la pass. But the way Ghulam and many others like him make sure that his vehicle and his passengers cross the pass safe and sound and reach their destination; we also have to make sure we come out from such situations with our head held high. That's one Vantage Point in my life which I will never forget. Same was reiterated while returning from Leh to Srinagar. That time we took a shared cab and the cab started from Leh market at 5pm and we were crossing Zoji la at 1.30am! The scary pass looked even scarier at that hour. But thanks to our expert driver; we reached Srinagar in one piece. But deep down inside me ,something changed from that trip. Whenever faced with some hurdle in life now; I try and think of those 2 drivers who cross so many passes everyday ferrying people and they emerge victorious. That makes me believe I too will pass and continue with my journey ahead.




That trip itself provided me with the chance to ponder and look back from a really high Vantage Point;I mean literally. We stopped many times during the trip. One such was near Namik La. Looking down to the winding roads that we have crossed and the curves that we are yet to cross made me realize that's what my life is at that point. I have crossed many winding roads and curves and now standing at  that point of life where I can look back and ponder at those roads and then look forward to the roads coming ahead too. Life does not offer a rewind button nor an eraser. We make mistakes, we fall down but life sure helps in getting up and moving ahead. And that's what I am looking forward to. Life is not all smooth like the surface of NH1 nor it is always only the rough and tough narrow passages. It's a journey mixed of everything. As someone rightly said " When life throws lemons at you make lemonade out of it." Your call actually, Lemonade or Tequila shots.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Looking back with DDLJ

It is a film that has redefined love in Bollywood. A film which has made the sweet love story of Raj & Simran immortal. This is a film that made the paddy fields of yellow mustard as romantic as the snow capped mountains or the flower carpets! And it is the film, which is still running and is completing 1000 week on 18th Dec this year.

 

This is a film which is a part of my teen years. Just out of school (10th) and landed in a hostel for further studies in the "then big bad world of a bigger city" - Guwahati . I came from a small town - Dibrugarh; my world had been protected and confined to school, tuitions, friends and family. I was scared, nervous and the fact that my room mate was a senior from same college, did not help either. That was one day and this is today when I am looking back and smiling as I type the words.  Few days back the new trailer of DDLJ was launched to celebrate the completion of 1000th week and it brought back a bucket full of memories.

 

I don't exactly remember which film I had gone to see when I saw big poster of the "Next change". It was a huge poster of paddy full of yellow mustards and no actors. With limited access to TV in hostel, I and my friends were clueless about this film. But in college the " day scholars" or the fellow batch mates who stayed at homes not in hostels like us would talk about the next big film of Shah rukh Khan we would be all ears. Came Friday 20th Oct 1995 and the film was released. It created a huge buzz and the film buffs all of us at the hostel were, we had to see it in the same weekend. So the planning started from Friday evening onwards. With limited pocket money we could not afford to pay the "Blacker". The only option was to make sure that we take the first few places of the queue. The theatre was Anuradha Cinema, one of very old cinema halls of Guwahati and closer to our hostel. Sunday we reached the cinema hall , believe it or not, at 7.30am for a 10am show! I was the first in the queue. There were total 5-6 of us. The sweeper was still cleaning the premises; and while standing in the queue, I was looking at the big poster which was wet! Yes wet. I tried to remember when did it rain last night. It did not. The poster was wet because they had just pasted it. It was the wet glue. All the girls were looking at the poster and giggling. That was the first time and then I have lost the count how many times I have watched this. On TV reruns of course.

And then there was Annie; my hostel mate. Crazy for SRK then and still is a big fan. She insisted I accompany her to one of shows in the following weeks. Since all the shows were going full, we had to again go through all the ordeal of standing in the queue for hours to manage tickets. She had missed coming with us the first time because of some class test. I still remember her watching the film totally engrossed, laughing and crying with Raj and Simran on screen. The most memorable part was when Amrish Puri came to know of SRK's real identity and slapped him real hard. Annie with her long nails squeezed my hand and almost went hysterical in the theatre. I tried to stop her and reason that that was not real. That was a film we were watching and people near our seats were watching us!! Annie being Annie, came out with the response " You are so unromantic". Annie would go crazy for SRK in each frame in this film. Her absolute favourite was when Kajol imagines SRK flashing his dimpled smile and waving his hand at the end of the song " Ho gaya hai tujhko to pyar sajna". If we had mobile phones and laptops those days, Annie would have gone berserk for sure.

 
But all said and done, that was one of those films which I had watched on big screen. In Dibrugarh, we would hardly go to the theatre to watch films. Dad had got us a VCR and we would get cassettes of the new releases from the neighbourhood Video parlour. The first film that I watched in a cinema hall without " Parental supervision" was Hum Aap ke Hai Koun. Yes, we had gone from hostel. A gang of 12-14girls. That was another story. That unleashed the filmy bug inside me and eventually I started going for films all alone too.

 

DDLJ was a film which we as 14 year old starry eyed, mills & boon fed generation of girls had watched and re watched. Over the years, the story of the boy and girl meeting during a Europe tour has reached new heights. I mean literally with the SRK and Kajol cut outs on top of Mt Titlis. Well if you ask me honestly, I personally think that's stretching the "fan"hood a bit too far. Anyway, since we Indians go there and get ourselves clicked next to it, no one is complaining.

 

Here's to my first hostel mates, watery curries of hostel, momos, the boys hotel in front and the  "rival" college's boys hostels which we had to cross to go to the theatre. Incidentally my husband was also one of the boys from the "rival" college staying in one of the hostels.

 

More power to love, laughter and happiness..DDLJ style.