The power of fashion

It was a strange place to learn about the power of fashion ... in the villages of Rajasthan. Passing through Rajasthan I was accosted many a time by women who wanted my clothes. One of them even came up to me and asked me for the Calvin Klein vest that I was wearing and another wanted my Esprit fur jacket. Now before any one starts to commisserate with the poverty in India I must make it clear that these women did not want money .... they were just interested in the clothes I was wearing. That is when I realized that women have an uncanny sense for fashion and that they can spot brands even without realizing. The woman who is in this picture insisted on taking the vest I was wearing and even offered to pay for it ... hence, the uncomfortable smile on my face... I was hoping that she would not get too persistent.

A Zhengzhou that is not Shanghai

I remember my visit to China in 2007. After spending ten days in two of China's cleanest and slickest cities, my husband and I decided to take a trip to the Shaolin temple. We decided to do it the real way and took a train to the town of Zhengzhou. Since our plans were last minute, all we could get were trickets in the unreserved coupe. I remember the ten hours in the most crowded train I have ever traveled in ... there were people standing in the alleys (thank god I found a seat!) We didn't speak or understand Mandarin and were the only foreign faces in there. People found us quite amusing and soon we found ourselves talking in sign language or in broken, basic Chinese written on slips of paper. It was the best train ride ever.

Zhengzhou was nothing like the Shanghai or Beijing we had left behind; it was like any small town crowded and lived-in minus any of the polish that we see in big cities. But it was one of the friendliest cities. The people on the bus we hopped on to soon realized that we didn't even speak a smattering of Chinese and they decided to take us under their wing. They found it amusing that we didn't even understand the announcements made by the driver and often were late in meeting up with the group. They were patient and understanding and in one instance when we missed the bus they left a message with another bus to take us to our next destination. That for me was the real China... not slick or clean like most people like their cities to be but lived-in, lovable and with a soul.

The photograph shows my husband, Anurag with two of our travelling partners. They formed a bond even if they didn't understand each other - may be it was their love for the Shaolin temple.

My Firsts

For those who don't know what I have been up to in the last two years .... here's a sneak peek. I call this "My Firsts." My first day back at school .... my first Trojan tailgate .... my first Thanksgiving... my first Halloween .... my first internship .... and my first commencement with my husband.

The return of the native

Its been two years since I abandoned this blog to experience life. A lot has happened since then I moved to the US to do my masters, spent two years living through academic bliss and then graduated to unemployment. I traveled to new places, met new people and enjoyed new experiences. But I felt myself skimming through it all and I now realize that it isn't enough to experience life it is important to express it too.

So here I am, back again to give you an unadulterated view of my life, my travels and my travails, and I hope to do so sans judgement. I don't want to skim the surface of life any more but want to find that light even in the darkest underbelly of life.

Prem Joshua's Pushkar

If you want to know how it feels to be on a magic mushroom trip – you must visit Pushkar. Not because magic mushrooms grow there - most of them grow down south; but because Pushkar is a blaze of color, is home to the strangest of visitors and has an innocuous charm. It is the quaintest little town I’ve ever seen and is a place where my soul can truly rest despite all the strangeness that you see around.

Walking down the narrow serpentine alley on a gloomy day all that registered on my mind was the riot of colors. The greyness of the day was lost in unique sights, distinctive taste and subtle flavor of the place. Most travel books talk about the color in Rajasthan and describe it vividly - the colorful turbans, dupattas and sarees. It was much more than just that in Pushkar, the tiny shops selling colorful scarves down the alley, the shop round the corner showing off the cheap, flashy yet colorful jewellery, the strings of bead hanging from awnings , houses with their traditional turrets and parapets painted a fluorescent green or orange- all try to make a distinct statement in a nondescript street.

Apart form the color, the other ubiquitous aspect of Pushkar is the lilting strains of Prem Joshua’s ‘Shiva Moon’ that follow you like a holy ghost. No matter which alley you visit you will always find your self drawn back to the main square and to the haunting tunes of Joshua. Joshua and Pushkar have a lot in common -- despite their contemporary experimental quality, they succeed in keeping alive the meditative quality its cultural roots.

Pushkar is a must visit place. You lose yourself in a haze of holy smoke. Most of the cafes have strange names like Moondance, Pink Floyd - and you know why the haze! A traditional Indian town suffering from a hippie hangover; sometimes you feel that traditions are only skin-deep here. Instead of ‘dhabas’ and Rajasthani eateries, you find the street dotted with German bakeries, instead of ‘chaat walas’ you find people selling apple, cinnamon, lemon and honey cakes on carts. Food in Pushkar is a true union of the west and the east. No meal is complete without mashed potatoes, felafel and fries. A pancake in Pushkar is a ‘chapati’ made of flour, soft and thin and fluffy on which you splatter dollops of Nutella or home made jam. This fusion pancake portrays the very essence of the place - fairy like it is the epitome of fusion culture.

Wandering aimlessly around the narrow alleys in the evening you are drawn towards the ghats. The entire town meets there in the evenings. Buddhist monks, Rastafarian travellers, pious Indian families - all of them congregate at the Ghats. The Ghats of Pushkar is the melting pot of all culture, religion and nationality. Every evening you can drown yourself in the most beautiful of sunsets listening to lilting strains of bhajans and Prem Joshua of course. The word lounging gets a whole new meaning at Pushkar. From the colorful alleys to the serene ghats the change in scenery at the Ghats is tantalizing. You can spend your entire evening here - enthralled, but there is also a possibility that you might step on to a moonlight rave happening on the terrace of some seedy cafe. Don’t be surprised! That’s just the beauty of Pushkar. It may take you some time to understand its soul but once you have discovered it you won’t be able to get out of the spell it casts over you.

Pushkar is a place where time often stands still. You go there for two days you will definitely end up staying for a week or want to at least. You will fall in love with the place, its people (though they are not as welcome when they realize that you are not an exotic foreigner) and its culture. For those looking for clean and slick-city experiences, this is not the place for you. A town that lives in it’s anachronistic past. Everything moves in slow motion here whether you are high or not. Every little thing happens in its own time here and this is right place to unwind ... very slowly at that. Leave your city slicker attitude behind as Pushkar is the lounger's paradise.