Footprints on the Mountainside

Well, I’m kind of late on this post, as the trip happened in May, but the pictures are up in any case for quite some time.

What do i say, it was a mixed bunch that left for the trip. Raka and I were there of course. Mugdha, Sneha and Sagar were Raka’s old friends from Himalayan treks they had participated in and Vinay Savla was a friend I had made online.

We started off with intros in the train. Seemed like a luxury after some of the tours we have been on. Playing cards, and songs on Raka’s fancy phone ruled.

We went to Pench, stayed in a resort near the Tiger, and came back with memories of a successful trip without having seen a tiger.

We did see a lot of other wildlife though, and it was a beautiful experience. Part of the success lay in the group attitude that we expected a wildlife tour to be more than the sighting of one animal.

Planning to add lots here, but made a start at least.

Raka and I were off again. This time on a training programme for Capgeminii. Dr. Dilip Panniker - one of our favourite outbound facilitators was conducting an indoor training programme for them, and wanted to introduce them to the power of Outbound training activities. Since this was more of an introduction than an actual programme, it was just the two of us going to conduct some very basic activities.

Luggage was light, and the spirit of adventure took over. We decided to go to Manor on bike. The monsoon season, the heavenly atmosphere and both of us together, alone on the road again.

We started off around 5am and hit the Mumbai - Ahmedabad highway. Surprisingly, while a lot of petrol pumps were open to fuel up, NONE of them offered air for the tyres - strange! I guess they don’t offer air round the clock since its free Just mentioning here, as if there is a Hindustan Petroleum or Bharat Petroleum guy reading this, it might be a PR exercise worth investing in. Anyway, coming back on track.

It was dark when we started, and the day began dawning around us, just as we got out of the city environment and among the natural beauty worth seeing. The countryside was lush green and the mist flirted with every hill it found as is the way of the monsoons in this region. Water fell from everywhere it could and it was the beginning of an ideal outing. It is incredible that we guys actually get paid for doing this stuff.

Reaching Manor, and the programme location at Silent Hills resort, we found it to be a really charming place. We were using Dilip’s room for the day, and it overlooked a charming courtyard with hammocks and the river beyond the fence in the backyard (well kind of). The area was spacious and perfect for group activities.

The group itself was a fun group, and while the outbound activities were really light, they turned out a good number of learnings for the group that they could apply in their practical lives. Dilip himself is a very capable and sensitive facilitator, and it was a superb learning experience for us as well.

A particularly memorable moment typical of Dilip happened in the discussions. When analysing performance and success/failure, there was a participant constantly speaking of trying to achieve. Dilip asked him to take off his cap. He did it. “Now put it on the floor and try to pick it up………….. no! DON’T pick it up. Try to pick it up!” It was an instant awakening into how we cushion our egos against the hurt of failure.

What is try to do something. It workd as an effort sure. But what is its place when you are analysing? Did you do it or not - is the bottom line. Once you have the courage and accept it as a yes or a no, you are in a better position to consider the whys.

Well this was a point when we all really laughed while we actually registered an important point, but there were lots of moments like these. What keeps these programmes refreshing each time is that while the activities are the same, the participants and companies they work for keep changing, and the performances, interactions, attitudes are all different, and like a new learning exercise for us as well with each time.

The programme done, we headed back home on our trusted bike, enjoying the ride every moment.

All said, a superb experience.

I was sitting at my computer, working on a couple of programmes coming up, when I got a call from my husband, Raka. Picked it up to find him a bit on the worried side. He told me that there had been blasts in trains in Mumbai and he didn’t know much, but asked me to tell my mother-in-law not to go to Virar, as she had planned that day.

I put the phone down, and conveyed the message to her, idly surfing Google news for more information. The time of the blasts stopped me cold - my brother-in-law had left for the railway station perfectly in time to be in the wrong place in the wrong time. Worried, I dialled his number. The lines were jammed. My worry mounting, I kept it on auto-redial and it was almost an hour before I got through to him.

He was safe! He had been there when the blast happened, but he was on Platform 1 and the blast happened on platform 5. He returned home pretty shaken up. He had rushed to help what he could, in bringing out people from the compartment. He helped carry around 8-10 people, not knowing if they were unconscious or dead. Some were obviously dead. People walked around in a daze looking for help, wounded, confused and panicking. A lot of the crowd ran out of the station.

It was over 20 minutes before any help arrived. News channels arrived almost at the same time, speaking of the blast and asking the survivors questions and one of them almost got beaten up for asking the obvious, when he probably knew more than anyone else by now. “If you can’t help because you’re busy talking, then at least don’t interrupt us from seeing where we can be of help”. Everyone had their own priorities, a lot of questions, shock and were on edge I guess.

Meanwhile, at home, the full horror was becoming apparent as the numbers of the blasts grew from one or two to a mind-boggling seven blasts within a span of 11min. The trains are the life-line of Mumbai, and the crowd in the rush hour is only to be seen to be believed. Further statistics came up. The blasts had all been in first class compartments on trains on the fast track.

The blame game started. Everyone who could possibly be related with the blasts was in the suspects list for the police, while the civilians were deciding from emotion.

We came to know that an eighth bomb had been found and defused about the same time as hospitals put up lists of the victims that were under treatment with them. People frantically called up to know if others they knew were safe, while more people lined up at the hospitals to donate blood in this time of need.

The roads were jammed with traffic, with people offering rides to strangers, even trucks and other transport vehicles pitching in to help people get home - it is no small matter for the bulk of the train commuters to land up on the streets for transport. Meanwhile, residents of the areas near the main roads had taken to the streets offering food and water to the weary crowds trying to get home.

In a couple of hours, the trains were running slowly again (after extensive checking). The railway lines were repaired overnight and the damaged compartments carted off into a yard for further investigations. On the next day, schools were on, people were back to work, and the trains were running only a little behind schedule.

Long live the spirit of Mumbai. We got back on track as a city faster than it must have taken the terrorists to hurt us.

At a time like this, one looks at the people whose lives were damaged in this happening and wonder about what these messengers of terror want. Are they so insane to risk their lives and the comfort and honour of their loved ones (if they got caught) for a disruption that the mighty spirit of Mumbai stumbled over, but didn’t even stop for? Hurt a random bunch of people they didn’t know? Just because they could?

I refuse to believe that these chaps never themselves benifitted from the safe and fast convenience of the trains that are constantly there for every one regardless of caste, creed, religion, or even profession (I terrorism would be a profession for some)

I think that we all have only one life and no spares to count on. It is up to us if we choose to make it worthwhile, or harm victims and loved ones alike with the consequences of our actions.

I’d been busy with some work at the computer for quite a few days, and was mildly surprised that two corporate monsoon outings we were negotiating were suddenly pushed ahead “because of the rain”. Not having a clue as to what was happening in the world outside (I hadn’t been out of the home for days) I was understandably puzzled. After all, rain is what monsoon hikes are about!

And then……. I went on to investigate the television………….. Terrible stuff. After waiting so long for rain (the Kondana hike was rainless completely) when we got it, it was a flood. There are people who blame the ancient drainage system, others who blame the municipal machineries and their slack maintainence systems….. whatever, it was plenty of rain.

I say was, because after a heart stoppting period of two days of wondering if this was a repeat of last years disaster, the trains are back to normal, water has receeded (or rather drained out) and life is getting back to normal.

Programme enquiries are happening again, and thankfully, nothing that was booked got cancelled/postponed.

The city has learnt from last year’s experience. People were on a friendly lookout for residents in areas at high risk, schools, colleges and offices closed early to let people reach home safely, and we had electricity all through.

As I said, My work on the computer went on so uninterrupted, that I hardly noticed anything amiss. Thanks the powers above for this safe “monsoon crisis” after last year’s disaster.