The City Of Dawn

The City Of Dawn

 Destination: Auroville

Location: 12km north of Pondicherry, Tamil Nadu.

Purpose: To study the architecture of the city and participate in various workshops.

Experience: Unforgettable. Here’s why;

Every year, my college organizes an educational trip to Auroville for 3^rd year students, to study and learn from the architecture of the city which is unique in a way of its own. The trip was in the end of December 2011, which meant we would be celebrating New Years there. I was thrilled, and certain that it would be my most memorable New Year. It definitely was, but not for the reasons I had anticipated. You see, we had an unexpected gatecrasher: meet Cyclone Thane.

We reached Chennai early morning on 29^th December, by The Chennai Mail. Auroville( City Of Dawn) is a township composed of a cluster of properties some 12km north of Pondicherry and 135 km north of Chennai. It was founded in 1968 by Mirra Alfassa, also known as The Mother, and designed by French architect Roger Anger. Mira Alfassa intended Auroville to be a universal town where men and women of all countries are able to live in peace and progressive harmony, above all creeds. The main purpose of the city is to realize human unity.

Since we arrived in Chennai at 6am, we were witness to the striking golden sunrise over the Bay of Bengal as we drove along the ECR (East Coast Road) which has the Bay of Bengal on one side. Lying along the Bay of Bengal is Marina beach, the longest beach in Chennai and the second longest beach in the world. It is usually a crowded beach, but early morning it was devoid of people and delightfully calm and serene. The incredible drive made our sleepy eyes open wide and we ogled at the spectacular sight on the horizon, heads poking out of the bus on one side.

We stayed at ‘Youth Camp,’ a small albeit beautiful guest house especially created to encourage independent living and build character. On day 1 we visited the Auroville Visitors Centre which has won the Hassan Fathy award for sustainable green architecture. Built with earth bricks, the centre is a pleasant place for the use of visitors and Aurovilians alike.The core function of the centre is to inform the visitors about the spiritual aim of Auroville. This is done with exhibitions and short documentaries. The centre also houses boutiques and handicraft shops for the eager shopaholics, galleries and bookshops, and a cafeteria which serves lip smacking food. It was raining when we were there, and what started out as a light drizzle gradually turned into a heavy downpour.

AN UNEXPECTED TURN OF EVENTS

 I ran into an aunt who lives in Chennai at the centre, and asked her about the unusual weather. ‘Haven’t you heard?” she asked me. ‘There is a cyclone approaching.’ I was dumbfounded, but not disheartened. We headed to Pondicherry for our heritage walk. A guide walked us through the White Town, which consisted of pretty French architecture, and the Black Town, which were traditional south Indian houses.

Recently renamed as Puducherry, Pondicherry is a small town tucked away on the eastern seaboard of India. Among its diverse attractions are palm-fringed beaches, backwaters, beach resorts, Sri Aurobindo Ashram and the French Boulevard. With some great food and some fine wine, this town is a great place to put your feet up and relax. But it was not so for us. As we sat in the balcony of Hotel Ajanta on the Promenade beach after our sightseeing, cyclone Thane announced its arrival.

IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

Darkness approached and the sky rumbled angrily and shot down daggers of lighting. The rain came down in sheets and the sea surged upwards in enormous waves to meet it, making sea and sky seem like one. Back in our rooms in the Youth Camp, we tried hard to sleep as the rain hammered down on the roof above us and the wind howled and wailed around us. At around 3am the intensity of the winds increased, we heard trees crashing down and it felt like our room would get blown away, as it was on the terrace. We knew then that we were in the eye of the cyclone. The storm eventually died down after an hour or two, but we did not get any sleep that night.

THE DAY AFTER

When we finally came out of our rooms the next morning, an astonishing sight met our eyes. There was destruction all around us; Trees had been uprooted, electrical poles had fallen and most of the roads in auroville had got blocked. Shops were closed. Electricity was out. The wind had reduced but it continued to rain heavily. With all our plans washed out, we were stuck at the Youth Camp the entire day.

HAPPY NEW YEAR?

The next day was December 31^st, New Years Eve. We went to Pondicherry on rented bikes that night in the hopes of celebrating, but the parties were either full or too expensive. The locals were drunk enough to make it unsafe for girls to be riding around on bikes, and we ended up back at the Youth Camp, making our way towards the common bathrooms with torches at the stroke of midnight. A Happy New Year? Definitely not, not for us or for the people of Tamil Nadu who had to face serious damage and a few casualties on account of natures wrath. We did do some of the things that we had gone there for; we visited Matrimandir, a stunning architectural achievement, the matrimandir is a meditation space shaped like a huge golf ball, coated with gold plates and located in the heart of auroville. We also attended earth brick workshops and visited New Era School. Simply but efficiently designed by Roger Anger, the school has an exceptional architecture worth seeing. But what I’m proud of most is how we lent a helping hand to the locals after the cyclone. Trees had fallen across the road, blocking the way for everybody and we helped them to clear the path. We were thirty of us and our help made a big difference. The locals and foreigners who had settled there were extremely kind, offering us refreshments as we cut, chopped and dragged trees off the road. They thanked us profusely after we were done, and a lady came to our Youth Camp the next day to thank us yet again. A small act of kindness goes a long way.

IS SOMEBODY OUT THERE?

Our educational trip had turned into a reality show of survival of the fittest. We had no water, minimum food supply and no electricity at all. We cooked our own food and washed our utensils after every meal, we could take a shower only when there was water available, and it this was sometimes at night so we had to take a shower using only the light from our torches. Our cell phones were dead, so we had no contact with our families back home. As if this wasn’t enough, every night we heard distinct footsteps all around us. Flashing our torches in the direction of the noise revealed nobody. This happened every night, and though it was extremely mystifying, we were not scared. I think we believed it was the spirit of The Mother, keeping a watch over us.

THE ICING ON THE CAKE

We were having a hard enough time coping up with the after effects of the cyclone, but there was more in store for us. We had just managed to sleep at 5am one night, when we were shaken awake by our friends. An earthquake warning had been announced. We had to clear out of our rooms with minimum valuables and assemble in the basketball field behind the Camp. Not entirely sure of what was happening; I grabbed my bag and ran out of the room with my friends. By 6am, thirty of us had gathered on the basketball field, patiently waiting for the earthquake to make its appearance. After a cyclone and mysterious sounds, nothing surprised us anymore. We made sure nobody contacted their families back home, we dint want to worry them further. After an hour of waiting, we filed back into our rooms.  We learnt later that there had been severe tremors in other parts of India, but thankfully, Mother Nature had decided to spare us this time.

We returned home with many memories, and to this day I’m not afraid of using the bathroom in the dark, and under any circumstances. I also definitely believe in friendly spirits. Also, it came to our knowledge how brutal cyclone Thane had been and how much damage to life and property it had caused. We feel deeply sorry for the people of Tamil Nadu and hope they will never have to deal with such a calamity again.

Turns out it was my most memorable new year, and if you visit auroville I hope you have an equally unforgettable holiday, but certainly not for the same reasons!

The Queen of Hills

 I had my first plate of momos at the railway station,8 chicken momos delicately steamed and priced at just 25r.It was a steal. Momos are, as a rule, bland, and the red spicy and tangy sauce is what gives it flavour and makes it absolutely delicious. 

Darjeeling is dotted with many hotels and resorts; we were put up in hotel Anand Palace, a 3 star hotel conveniently close to The Mall. On our first day there itself we discovered Keventers,A restaurant which became our everyday breakfast joint. If you love an English style breakfast, then Keventers is the place to be. A quick glance at the menu revealed egg and bacon, sausages, salami and ham, all very reasonably priced. Deprived of good food since 2 days, we promptly ordered everything. That was the best breakfast I have ever had, the sausages were well fried, golden brown, and juicy from the inside. The salami equally well done. This scrumptious meal was washed down with a mug of steaming hot chocolate which spread a warm glow inside us. Top this off with a stunning view of Kanchenjunga, and Keventers becomes the most popular choice for breakfast for tourists and locals alike.

The best way to see Darjeeling is to stroll about. The heart of Darjeeling is The Mall, also called chowrasta,the main town square which is lined with shops, restaurants, curio delaers and hawkers. Vehicles are prohibited, and very rightly so. You can do a spot of shopping here or just bask in the views of the omnipresent Kanchenjunga. The market road as you approach chowrasta is also a good place to shop, as is The Tibetan Refugee Centre, a little Tibet away from home.

 Taking one of the 4 roads that lead from the mall will bring you to St Andrews church,a most picturesque church perched atop a hill and looking like a vision out of a fairy tale. As it was a Sunday the church was closed, but we requested the care taker to let us take a look inside, and she very sweetly and kindly obliged. Once inside, the church gives you the feeling of being in a time capsule. History comes alive before your eyes as you look at the many templates in the church.

Also worth visiting is the Himalayan Mountaineering Institute, established in 1954 and headed for many years by Sherpa Tenzing Norway, it is still considered India’s premier mountaineering establishment. Roosting on a knoll called the Birch Hill Park, it is home to the Mountaineering museum, an ensemble of mountaineering equipment, specimens of flora and fauna, traditional attire of Himalayan tribes, souveniers from mountaineering clubs all over the world and a relief model of the main peaks of the Himalayas. The Everest Museum here has photographic and archival records of all the attempts ever made to scale the highest peak. HMI also organizes rock climbing sessions for adventure sports enthusiasts. Adjoining the HMI is the zoo, which has the majestic Royal Bengal Tiger and The Red Panda amongst its many occupants.

To watch the magnificent sun rise from amidst the Himalayas, head towards Tiger Hill in the wee hours of the morning. You will have to battle your way to the top of the hill with hordes of tourists, but the golden orange vision on the horizon is worth it.

Another famous restaurant in Darjeeling is Glenary’s on Nehru Road. A dazzling crown to the Queen of Hills, this luncheonette dating back to colonial times, reminiscent of a surreal old-world English decorum, is in a class of its own. It is very rich and very original. Even something as ubiquitous as bread is sacrosanct here, on account of its enticing aroma and also on account of the fact that Glenary’s used to provide it for free for the ‘Missionaries Of Charity.’

 The meat pie in the Baker shop is a must try along with the exquisite chocolates and cookies sold by weight. The sitting area is set against a serene, almost heavenly backdrop of Mother Nature in full crowning glory with the fresh mountain air soothing travel weary adventurers and inducing a state of inner calm. Below the eatery is a classic example of a London Pub-‘The Buzz’, with reasonably priced drinks and smiling table assistants. All in all, a great place to hang out in.

 En route to Glenary's is a pretty eatery called Frank Ross Cafe which serves purely delectable pancakes with maple syrup and a luscious cuppa hot coffee.

Momos and thukpa are available in almost every restaurant, but Dekevas stands out amongst them. Darjeeling is renowned for its tea, and one will get bewildered by the varieties of tea available in the tea shops. There is green tea, black tea and even white tea. Not to mention first flush, second flush and so on. I would recommend buying tea outside the tea plantation, where you can actually taste it before making your purchase.

My verdict; Darjeeling is truly the Queen Of Hills, and by the end of my stay there I had made up my mind to permanently settle down there after retirement and spend the remainder of my life in that gorgeous British hill station. If you visit Darjeeling and don’t fall in love with the quaint little town, I’ll eat my socks. 

A Thirst For Travelling And An Insatiable Appetite: I love mycollege for two reasons; first for givin...

A Thirst For Travelling And An Insatiable Appetite:
I love mycollege for two reasons; first for givin...: I love my college for two reasons; first for giving me friends worth keeping for life…and second for arranging ‘educational’ trips ever...

I love my college for two reasons; first for giving me friends worth keeping for life…and second for arranging ‘educational’ trips every year. Now as you have probably correctly guessed, very little education is done on these trips.

Although I love travelling and exploring new places, I am still completing my education and can’t really afford to go on trips by myself. I am more or less at the mercy of my college when it comes to holidays, and jump at any opportunity provided by it.

This year, we had two trips organized. The first of these was to Darjeeling, Sikkim and Kolkata, from 25^th November to 6^th December. First I had to get down to convincing my dad, there had been and earthquake in Sikkim just a month before and my dad insisted that it was unsafe to go just a month later. Let me add here that whenever I’m going somewhere or returning from somewhere, an incident of some sort is bound to happen in that exact location. Why this happens is really beyond me. Anyway, after about a week of coaxing and convincing, my dad finally agreed to let me go. I was ecstatic.

On 25^th November I joined my excited and chattering group of friends at LTT (Lokmanyatilak Terminus) In Kurla. We were to board the Guwahati express at 8am,which would get us to New Jalpaiguri, a small but pretty station in the city of Siliguri, on the morning of the 27^th. From there it was a four to five hour journey to Darjeeling. That’s right,more than 48 hours in the train. For the next 2 days and 2 nights,the chugging snake was our home. We played train games, listened to music on our small portable speakers, and generally annoyed each other when we ran out of things to do. Now we were a group of more than 130 people, professors included,and we were all scattered throughout the train in different bogies. To walk across these many bogies and reach a group of friends sitting in the ones further down was a task nothing short of mission impossible. During the day it was achievable, all we had to do was sway our way across stinking lavatories, coffee and tea vendors, fruits and bhel sellers, lock and chain sellers, various types of beggars and eunuchs. This had to be done when our phones needed charging as well, since our non AC bogies did not have charging points, and we had to walk all the way across almost 10 bogies to the AC compartment for it.

But once the night dawned upon us, our train became more like a refuge for people in the Kargil war. Passengers with non reserved tickets got on board and slept anywhere and everywhere they desired. There was not a single empty spot on the floor of the train where there wasn’t a man or child sleeping bundled up. We had ventured out of our reserved berths to meet some friends in the other bogies, and immediately realized our error. Not only was it next to impossible to walk without stepping on somebody’s face, but when we finally returned to our bogies, clutching each other for support, we found them to be occupied by strangers who did not have reserved seats. After much talking and explaining, they shifted to some other berths so that our college group could sit together. The same drill had to repeat at night, since we wanted to sleep in the same compartment but had scattered berths. After lots of switching around and exchanging, which led to a lot of confusion, we were still short of 2 berths. Nobody wanted to sleep alone in the next bogie. We compensated by sharing a berth between 2 people. I had to share a berth with a friend who loved to hug and sleep. She used me as her sleeping pillow, and within ten minutes she had one arm and one leg around me, happily choking me to death. When I finally pried her limbs off me, she turned over with a contended sigh and pushed me off the berth with a single push of her backside. Luckily we were sharing the bottom berth. I picked myself off the floor of the train and got back into bed like a soldier returning to the battlefield, and resolutely made place for myself on the berth. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep that night.I have a large appetite and high metabolism. As a result I feel hungry every one hour, or two hours at the most. But when I’m travelling by trains in India, I eat as less as possible, simply to avoid using the dirty and unhygienic lavatories. Plus it’s not easy to digest food when you’re swaying continuously. Combine this with the plethora of stenches that reach your nose in a 2 day long train journey, and your left with zero appetite. Most of us survived on junk food which would not want to make us unload in the filthy toilets.

So when we finally arrived at Siliguri, tired and woebegone, it is safe to say that I had lost at least 2kgs.  Known as the Gateway of North East India, Siliguri is a city blessed with a bounty of flora and fauna, located in the narrow strip of land linking mainland India to its north-eastern states. When we arrived at New Jalpaiguri 2 days later at 10:00 hours in the morning, there was a light fog upon us and the Himalayas were vaguely visible in the distance. As we crossed the overhead footbridge with our luggage in tow, we could clearly spot the famous snow capped Kanchenjunga peak. This caused a tiny ripple of excitement in our weary group.

There are two ways of reaching Darjeeling, by road and by the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, popularly known as the toy train. The train departs at 9am, which is why we had to rent buses to reach Darjeeling. After a quick breakfast in a restaurant in Siliguri, we departed towards the hill station which is 6710ft high. The drive is exhilarating. The landscape is spectacular, with lush green valleys and breathtaking views of the Himalayan peaks and the majestic Kanchenjunga. We could not get enough of it. Although if you are going to this hill station, I would recommend taking the toy train which takes one through an even more scenic route. Refreshed by breakfast and rejuvenated by the stunning beauty around me, I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of the 4 hour long drive.

 We stopped for lunch on the way, and a few times so that people could relieve their bladders, and we reached Darjeeling at around 2 in the afternoon.

Darjeeling is known as the Queen of Hills not without good reason. As I stood at the railway station, where we had stopped yet again to pee, I stared open mouthed at the stunning view surrounding me. Words cannot possibly describe the beauty that is Darjeeling. I felt like I was on top of the world, with my head amongst the clouds. Around me were never ending valleys and right in front of me were the snow clad Himalyas, Mt. Kanchenjunga proudly standing out amongst them. I have added some images here, and you can see for yourself what I mean.