THE HILLS CAME ALIVE...(PART-1)
When you leave the city (and it doesn't matter which one) and travel into a quaint little place, you can hardly imagine how inept your life is... Living in a big city makes one forget the simple joys of life... Unhappiness, depression, jealousy, OD-ing, sex and greed are subconscious companions... But in a little town tucked away in the Western Himalayas, amid the Deodars and the clouds, life moves at its own pace... Unhurried, un-flummoxed, uninhibited... You learn to relax and your body tunes to a new rhythm...
While sitting on a bus en route Manali, as we drove on the winding, curvy roads, with the bus precariously balancing itself, rising higher and higher from sea level, going deeper into the 'Valley of the Gods', I failed to realise how far away I was actually moving from my big city life... Not in terms of geographical distance alone, I was leaving behind a peculiar life, culture, ethos and thinking...
At first sight, Manali disappoints... Too quick to make judgements and too fast to dismiss things, I looked at the hill-station as an impoverished cousin to the more illustrious and tourist-friendly hill-stations... And no, it doesn't matter to me that two former PMs had given Manali their official seal of approval when they chose it as their solace from politics and parliamentary affairs. I make my own impressions.
New Manali was, in my opinion, a town that was forgetting its identity. Changing itself to suit the palate of the foreign wanderlust, New Manali is a bustling town full of hotels and restaurants like Sher-e-Punjab (Pure Veg!) and Sher-e-Punjab---The Original (Non-Veg)...
Full of locals, New Manali can sometimes be a tad rowdy with youngsters having no way of giving vent to their hormones. They delight equitably by a chance visit by a Bollywood hero, Sohail Khan as well as two donkeys satiating themselves in the most public and indiscreet way. (Both are first hand accounts and not exaggerations of the idle mind)
Old Manali, a few kms away from the New Town, is an altogether different place. Tourist-y? Sure. But in a quiet, subtle sort of way. Old cafes manned by Tibetans offer English breakfast, Israeli lunches and Italian suppers. Most hotels and eateries are by the river (Manaslu) and having a river running so close to your feet as you sit down to eat, surrounded by a constant gurgling (which is not your hungry stomach) is a totally different experience...
Living here was like living in excess and decadence---excess of food, excess of dessert, excess of fresh air, an excess of everything (if you know what I mean)... The first thing to catch your attention are the apples... Trees and trees full of rotund, red, juicy apples... Actually there are apples everywhere---on the sides of roads, in neat mounds at the foot of tree trunks, in drains, drying on porches, in wine bottles, in pies---they can be found everywhere except in a shop!
The next thing that you can't miss even if you want to are the number of hippies, 'charsis' riding in bikes adorning the worst-possible rags. I mean seriously, what's with these firangs and their clothes! Some of our Indian beggars are better dressed than them...sheesh!
Amid the yaks, unbelievably fluffy rabbits, old, smiling people and beautiful, wild flowers that grow un-nurtured, you'll also notice the lack of political signs and paraphernalia... It's as if this place has purged itself of every kind of pollution...
Old Manali is a queer mix of Tradition and Modernity... The constant dichotomy between the Natural and the Acquired... But that is also what draws you to it... It makes you forget your home and desire to be part of this delicate balance that exists between Man and Nature...
(To be contd...)
While sitting on a bus en route Manali, as we drove on the winding, curvy roads, with the bus precariously balancing itself, rising higher and higher from sea level, going deeper into the 'Valley of the Gods', I failed to realise how far away I was actually moving from my big city life... Not in terms of geographical distance alone, I was leaving behind a peculiar life, culture, ethos and thinking...
At first sight, Manali disappoints... Too quick to make judgements and too fast to dismiss things, I looked at the hill-station as an impoverished cousin to the more illustrious and tourist-friendly hill-stations... And no, it doesn't matter to me that two former PMs had given Manali their official seal of approval when they chose it as their solace from politics and parliamentary affairs. I make my own impressions.
New Manali was, in my opinion, a town that was forgetting its identity. Changing itself to suit the palate of the foreign wanderlust, New Manali is a bustling town full of hotels and restaurants like Sher-e-Punjab (Pure Veg!) and Sher-e-Punjab---The Original (Non-Veg)...
Full of locals, New Manali can sometimes be a tad rowdy with youngsters having no way of giving vent to their hormones. They delight equitably by a chance visit by a Bollywood hero, Sohail Khan as well as two donkeys satiating themselves in the most public and indiscreet way. (Both are first hand accounts and not exaggerations of the idle mind)
Old Manali, a few kms away from the New Town, is an altogether different place. Tourist-y? Sure. But in a quiet, subtle sort of way. Old cafes manned by Tibetans offer English breakfast, Israeli lunches and Italian suppers. Most hotels and eateries are by the river (Manaslu) and having a river running so close to your feet as you sit down to eat, surrounded by a constant gurgling (which is not your hungry stomach) is a totally different experience...
Living here was like living in excess and decadence---excess of food, excess of dessert, excess of fresh air, an excess of everything (if you know what I mean)... The first thing to catch your attention are the apples... Trees and trees full of rotund, red, juicy apples... Actually there are apples everywhere---on the sides of roads, in neat mounds at the foot of tree trunks, in drains, drying on porches, in wine bottles, in pies---they can be found everywhere except in a shop!
The next thing that you can't miss even if you want to are the number of hippies, 'charsis' riding in bikes adorning the worst-possible rags. I mean seriously, what's with these firangs and their clothes! Some of our Indian beggars are better dressed than them...sheesh!
Amid the yaks, unbelievably fluffy rabbits, old, smiling people and beautiful, wild flowers that grow un-nurtured, you'll also notice the lack of political signs and paraphernalia... It's as if this place has purged itself of every kind of pollution...
Old Manali is a queer mix of Tradition and Modernity... The constant dichotomy between the Natural and the Acquired... But that is also what draws you to it... It makes you forget your home and desire to be part of this delicate balance that exists between Man and Nature...
(To be contd...)
posted by Shutapa Paul | 11:21 PM
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