End-March diary entry

February and March went off with reasonably balmy weather on the whole this time, thanks to the unseasonal but very welcome drizzles last week. This weekend is predicted to be hot again, but that is only to be expected. If we are lucky, we might have some more rainy spells, as it happens in some years, so that we might be spared long weeks of relentless heat from April to July.

My admission season is practically over, though a few more will probably keep trickling in. From April onwards, it will be full season again, but for the first time in more than a quarter century, the workload will still be much lighter, only four days a week with two classes a day. I will have much more time to get post-lunch naps than ever before. Who says there are no perks to getting old? SRK anxiously declares ‘I’m not old’ and has to jump about monkey-fashion on stage to stay cool and relevant. Poor chap. I am proud and glad that I am old. So who’s winning?

So many things are coming full circle in the fullness of time. Many of my most beloved youngsters are getting married and having children of their own, and helping me to relive wonderful memories. And while I am still working for my keep, I can regard my earnings more and more as a nice pension rather than a huge and frightening responsibility. I can get more quirky and cranky with impunity – my inner circle will indulgently bear with it and forgive, and how many of those outside give me a wide berth will matter less and less with every passing year.

Thanks to Bibhas, I came across a blog called ‘Goobie and Doobie’ on YouTube recently, made by a ‘loser’, a successful and high-earning Japanese-American neurosurgeon who gave up that life to be, in his own words, an unemployed wanderer, nature blogger, lay philosopher and ‘happy for the first time in his life’. A real life instance of The Monk who sold his Ferrari. I have grown very fond of him very quickly. More power to his elbow. Try it sometime if you have a much bigger attention span than the typical under-40.

I am reading the last of the Maisie Dobbs series, knowing, sadly, that the author has decided never to add to the list. I had grown very fond of Maisie, and immersed in her life. Recently, also, I read a book called Kaikeyi by Vaishnavi Patel, that was truly very interesting – the early part of the Ramayana written from the perspective of someone who has a strongly feminist perspective and is also one of the least remembered or most reviled (a difficult to achieve combination!) characters in the epic. Strongly recommended, though not quite as lyrical and mellifluous as Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s Palace of Illusions.

Thanks to Google photos, I recently discovered that a lot of people who broke off the connection with me long ago still keep sneakily looking up my blog. I wonder what keeps bringing them back, when they have ostensibly lost all interest in keeping in touch with me? A guilty conscience, secret admiration, sheer perverseness, or just endless time to kill?

On the government going after ‘comedians’ who mock and provoke the powers that be – because this issue has been much in the news lately – as a moderate conservative with very reasoned and firm views over a lifetime, I am very much in favour of free speech, but I strongly dislike grown up people who confuse freedom with licence: toilet humour is NOT an essential part of freedom of speech, it is actually very unhealthy for the future of society and civilization, especially if it becomes the only kind of humour that people enjoy. Crudeness, loud vulgarity and abuse are no good or essential part of ‘criticism’; never have been. Let the comedians learn a little about what good and effective comedy as well as criticism can be and should be. Their ‘responsibility’ to democracy does not end with making the great unwashed masses titter along.

I am sad to see that despite repeated requests here, so few have ‘found the time’ to leave behind a few fond recollections about their time with me (the link for the relevant Google form is given on the top of the right hand column here – but if you are reading this on a phone, you have to visit the web version). Conversely, I am very happy to see that several old posts have come back into the most-read list – it means that some people, instead of merely visiting the home page, are actively exploring this blog. I am sure they will not be disappointed with things they find; in fact, some of them might wonder that Sir said these things already so many years ago! Especially when it comes to books, videos and movies, I shall be glad to hear some thank you-s from those who enjoyed my recommendations.

Last trip of the season

My travel season started early this time round, with the Ooty-Mudumalai trip in October, and ended with a visit to the Dooars in North Bengal.

End-February is a time I treasure, because it is one of the few occasions when I get a long break from work, and the weather is still decent enough. So off I went to Siliguri on the 28th to see a cousin whom I had been promising to visit since 2014. A one-day halt, then I moved on to a resort in Lataguri, right on the edge of the Gorumara Wildlife Sanctuary, a barely two-hour drive. This was the very first time I was doing Dooars – ironical, since I have travelled to so many other forests around the country – and I discovered that a) Gorumara is seriously underrated, if you love forests with or without sightings of ‘exciting’ animals, b) many of the other now well-known hotspots, such as Chalsa, Murti, Tilapara and Batabari are actually only a few miles down the same highway, c) if you want to make a jungle safari, Lataguri is your best choice, because everybody has to come here to enter the jungle anyway. At this magical time of the year (schools everywhere keeping kids and parents busy with exams) everything was quiet, and it was a very nice two-night stay, with elephants and bison actually coming up to the gates at nightfall.  

Then off via Manbazar and Gorubathan through lush tea gardens into the hills. I stopped for an overnight stay at a lovely little homestay called Alpine Resort in the village of Kashyem near Kalimpong, very close to the better-known Ichchegaon and Sillery Gaon, which had been highly recommended by an elderly lady friend, and Bob Thapa the proprietor did not disappoint. If you want peace and quiet and long walks among the pines and lovely views of distant snow-capped mountain peaks (Kanchenjunga and Nathu-La among others), lungfuls of clean air and delicious hot local cuisine made from mostly home-grown stuff`without too much luxury and at a very modest price, this is the right get-away-from-it-all spot for you: noisy families, please stay away. For those not interested in noise and shopping (but the wi-fi connection is good), Bob's phone number for booking in advance is 8918112692.

Last stop, another two-hour drive to Bhalukhop village on the other side of Kalimpong to stay overnight with a sadhubaba friend (all personal details must be kept private) which had been very long in the planning. I could spend whole afternoons sunbathing on the wind-swept terrace, and spending the chilly evening staring at the lights of Rangpo in the middle distance. Suffice it to say that we enjoyed ourselves so much that we both deeply regretted that we were parting so soon, and I promised to return (this despite the fact that I had survived a rice with fish curry lunch at 5 p.m. Another first in life – I am living dangerously).

Back to Siliguri, and Durgapur on 5th March, after having woken up at the ungodly hour of 3.30 a.m. Again, it seems I am getting into a bad habit, but it couldn’t be helped. By the way, it was the Vande Bharat for the onward journey and Shatabdi on the way back. I can safely report that the former is a con game – in NO way better, yet grossly overpriced. Unless it is purely for matters of time-convenience, I am never going to take a Vande Bharat again – nor, I suspect, will millions of other Indians who have tried it once just for fun.

My mother had accompanied me on the entire trip. I was on tenterhooks all the way for all nine days, but she bore up wonderfully well, the magnificent eighty-year old.

Here the summer is already upon us. Today, says the weather app, is going to be the first time in six months that the mercury is going to reach that horrible tipping point – 37 degrees Celsius, and there are fears that the first of the heat waves is already about to strike. The last two summers were very nasty: God knows what is in store for us this time round.

You will find a few photos here.