Earlier this month, I went overlanding for the first time. What’s that? It’s defined like this: “Overlanding is self-reliant overland travel to remote destinations where the journey is the principal goal.”
Seven of us got on a modified truck (called Bonnie, a beautiful orange BharatBenz), while her twin (Clyde, of course!) followed us (tricked out with loos, showers, hot water on one side and a kitchen on the other) and went from Jaipur to Gurgaon (where we were stopped by curious cops at every intersection, it seemed), on to Rishikesh, where we stayed in a room by the Ganges, then further up the mountains, following the Alaknanda river past Rudraprayag and Devprayag to Chopta, Uttarakhand. Here we stopped for two nights and camped amidst rhododendron trees, (more…)
I spent an afternoon poking around the sheds with the engineers while researching a story on the Indian Railways’ mandate to switch from the very unsanitary drop-chute toilets we inherited from the British to zero-waste bio-toilets. It was totally fascinating. I was fully enthralled by all the various maintenance sections and tasks — rakes on elevated tracks, being painted, welded, shunted. All very cool.
And everyone at the Central Railways was delightful. I’ve never dealt with a branch of the government so efficient and eager to help. I’ve come away not only equipped with more respect and understanding for what they do (and how uphill a task it is to cater to our great unwashed junta) but also impressed with the engineers and the CPRO. Ask me about my contrasting *other* experience to really get why I’m so floored. 😉
@brokentoilets #blog Shared via Instagram http://ift.tt/1kvrkEk and IFFT
Classic! I love that they managed to spell the hardest word right, but not the rest 🙂
I know, I know, the guy stenciling it on is probably illiterate, but the lettering is still funny. Thanks for the entertainment Delhi ‘govrment’!
At Kamakhya Debutter temple, a cat keeps an eye on two rock doves sheltering in a nook by a sculpture. Look in the bottom right for the birds.
The temple itself is imposing. I didn’t go in. The fast track entry (Rs. 100) was almost as long as the general (free) entry queue to enter the vestibule and visit with the Goddess Who Bleeds* was estimated at an hour and a half and I didn’t feel like paying Rs. 500 for super fast entry. I did see a monkey attack devotees and help himself to their food offerings though, as well as some atavistic goddesses in surrounding chambers. And this curious cat, ready to spring.
For more years than I can remember, I’ve wanted to go see a film at Deepak Talkies, one of the few single screen cinemas in my neighborhood. When we moved to Prabhadevi in 1987, Kirti Talkies on Caddell Road had recently shut, but was still a landmark. These ‘Talkies’, by virtue of their location, catered to mill workers who inhabited the charming two-story tenements that dot Lower Parel and Prabhadevi, and are now being replaced with ugly metal and glass high-rises wherever you look.
Every time I cross Deepak Talkies on my way back from Lower Parel, I try
I tried. They tried, too. The MNS volunteers are unfailingly helpful, but despite the news that if you’d voted before, the EC could refer to the master list and allow you to vote with ID, my name wasn’t on any of the lists – old or new, for my current residence nor my previous address. I’ve been deleted.
One of the ladies manning (womanning?) a polling station for my new building sweetly gave me a bilingual paper form to fill out and drop off at HQ ‘since your online form got rejected’ and consoled me by telling me there are vidhan sabha elections in 6 months, I could definitely vote then.
Sigh. Depressed about being disenfranchised.