mihir

one more step. And another, and another.  I was comfortable on the first day, after 11.5kms of walking. That day though, a couple of others weren't feeling their most comfortable self. The guide, and a few others periodically checked on them. The second day, for me, went by a breeze as well, as I trekked 13.5km and through our first real ascent. We reached our campsite that afternoon, and I suddenly felt unlike anything I had experienced before. It was as if my body suddenly collapsed. I decided to lay down in the tent, but every passing minute felt longer than it should have. The weather that day was gloomy as well, so there was no respite in that regard. I don't know if a pleasant day would have made me feel any better, to be honest.  Our campsite was located on the backdrop of a lake, but was blocked by a small hill of stones. A five minute walk. Collectively, as a group, we rested for two hours, and then made our way towards the lake, beyond the stones. All I could think d...

It's been seven days since I got back from Kashmir, nestled between valleys, mountains, and lakes alike. Untouched by civilization and commotion. Could have just said civilization. The acclimatization to higher altitudes was a slow, gradual, and peaceful one. It came as a passing breeze; it's presence was felt, warm and consistent. Unfortunately, the return has been a sudden one, where some of the vices I had stayed away from in those six days, have made their presence felt again. The use of Instagram being one of them. But before society takes over me completely, there are some things I need to pen down, so that they survive the test of time, independent of me falling prey to this jungle.  At the end of every one of those six trekking days, our trek leader would ask us what our highlight for that day was. On the penultimate day, the emotions were running high and deep, and everyone was crying in one form or the other, for a reason or more.  What was the highlight for me, I as...

I've visited Mumbai twice in the last month, for reasons starkly different, yet similar. But the backstory is for another time. Hopefully, there is another time. This time around, I decided to take a train from Pune, the 7:15AM Deccan Queen that people across generations have backed their livelihood on. I, on the other hand, was treating it as leisure, and was merely excited by the prospect of being in a train after years.  I had taken a flight the previous day, and thanks to the CrowdStrike fiasco, I spent a good nine-and-a-half-hours in transit. This, along with the early morning wake-up-call to catch the train, meant that I was on reserves. The train set afoot, and I slept, or rather tried to. But when have my sleeping instincts ever come in handy?  I accepted that my eyes would be open. Would I be awake, I didn't know yet. Initially, my eyes locked horns with the make-shift houses that were somehow still standing tall in this heavy downpour. The train soon caught speed, an...

I speak to the attendant at the counter. It's not the first time I'm there. I recognize her, in her spectacles, and despite the face-covering she wears. Covid was over long ago, so I'm not sure what she's worried about. I don't bother to ask, our interaction transcends into something more pivotal. I glance through the piece of paper in front of me. I know what it says, but I'm not sure what the mood is like today. I finally decide to go for the Ghee Masala Dosa, as I've done on so many occasions before this. I ask for a Filter Coffee as well. She repeats my order, asks my name, and then, I wait.  There is a constant chatter in the place, of the people sitting, and of those waiting. The walls are just about in place, the white paint tearing down in a few spots. The tables are not spread too far apart, and the chairs even closer. I recognize a few more faces, the ones who are transporting a stack of plates from the kitchen to the promised customers. These face...

I've often wondered about the bravest thing I've ever done. But the answer eludes me. The thing about bravery, the way I see it, is that it's associated with courage. I have been told that some of the things I've done were courageous, and borderline stupid. Hence, brave. However, when I did do the things in question, I didn't feel I was being courageous, but rather I really felt like performing the act. So courage was out of the window, and stupidity in. It all changed a few days back. This is the story of when I felt I undertook an act that was beyond the threshold that I call comfortable.  We were in Alaska, in the city of Anchorage. It was ten at night, into our ninth day in the State. Needless to mention, we were tired, and every ounce of energy being burned was being supplied from the reserves of Theplas we were carrying with us. The weather outside was beautiful. Well, over here, we use such superlatives to describe it every time it does not rain. It was not r...

I cut the packet open, and emptied the contents in a microwaveable container. An orange Tupperware . I heated it for one minute, as the packet instructed me, and then took the first bite. I had contrasting feelings, at a dichotomy with each other. Surprise, & awe, at what one minute could do to uncooked food. Disappointment, & a lack of satisfaction, at what one minute could not do to uncooked food.  It was lunch on the fifteenth of May, two thousand and seventeen, my 20th birthday. It was the third day of my internship in Taiwan, and also the first motivation to learn how to cook Dal Makhani .                                                                                                      ...