The Magic of Kausani in the Rains

This is a weekend break, which we almost did not have.

It seems the whole of Delhi had the same idea of heading for the mountains and that too much before it occured to us. We wanted to go to Lansdowne in the Garhwal, which is less than 6 hours away from Delhi. The other choices were Mukteshwar and Kausani in the Kumaon region of the Himalayas. After vainly trying on the net and through assorted travel agents we could find accomodation only at Kausani a good 10 hours drive from New Delhi. We decided to leave earlier, a night before, broke our journey en route at Moradabad and left for Kausani the next morning.

We drove in driving rain and stopped at Haldwani in the foothills, for breakfast.

The drive in the hills had a dream like quality to it. We were in the clouds, enveloped by a steadily drizzling gossamer curtain, which seemed to have descended upon us straight from the heavens. From this curtain emerged the hills and the vales of the magnificent Kumaon, covered in astoundiong shades of green. We drove up the side of a hill and than down to Bhowali and than took a right for Almora. We took the Almora bypass to avoid the bustling hill town and drove on to Kausani, which turned out to be no more than a hamlet with many hotels.

As we drove up to the town’s main square, we ran into a Janamashtami Mela, with thousands of people celebrating the birth of Lord Krishna at the town’s main temple. Men dressed in their very best, women in gaudy sarees and faux jewellery and young girls in salwar kurtas pressed against the car. The street vendors selling ‘bhuttas’, pakoris, sweetmeats, baubles and trinkets and cheap cosmetics were having a field day. After much shouting and blaring of horns, we were able to drive up to our hotel about 3 kms from the town square.

Kausani, at 1890mt. lies atop a ridge, surrounded by dense pine forests and affords a magnificent view of the Himalayan peaks of Nanda Devi, Trishul and Panchchauli. It also overlooks the Someshwar valley on one side and the Garur valley on the other side. From our hotel, perched right on the top, we could see clouds filled valleys and the distant peaks looked ghostly, almost floating on the clouds. We decided to spend the evening doing nothing, which is really the best you can do in Kausani. I settled down on a reclining chair in the hotel’s balcony and quietly watched the clouds flit by, changing by the minute the splendour spread all around us. As darkness gathered and the lights came on, we could see Garur glittering in the valley, the light filtering through the haze. We played chess and enjoyed a perfect evening, had dinner and went for a walk in the hills.

After breakfast the next morning we headed for a drive in the hills. The valley still shrouded in the mist had an unreal feel to it. We drove down from Kausani to the Garud valley. We stopped at the fabled tea gardens on the hill slopes and clambered up the mountainside surrounded by the tea bushes. As the day wore on the mist slowly dispersed, and we caught glimpses of the far away snow peaks, appearing surreal, almost suspended in air. We drove down to the temple town of Baijnath on the banks of the river Gomti. The drive is through majestic forests of Pine, Devdar and Fir. Often, we would stop and spill out of the car to look at and appreciate the vistas of Himalayan ranges spread out in front of us.

Kausani turned out to be the perfect place for getting away from the hustle and bustle of Delhi. Even during a long weekend, it did not attract hoards of tourist. It was a quiet and peaceful place with clouds filled valleys and forests, a place for a little solitude and reflection. A perfect getaway, if ever there was one from the madness and wild scramble of Delhi.

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The Fall of the Noble Peace Prize

Had Alfred Noble been alive today, he would indeed be a very sad man. The wise men who decide the winner of the peace prize named in his memory have done a great disservice to him by honouring Barack Obama. Strange as it may sound they have also done great injustice to Mr. Obama by bestowing upon him a prize that he does not truly deserve, certainly not as yet.

Like most people across the world, I have the greatest respect for the Nobles. They are the highest recognition for excellence, for real achievement untainted by parochial considerations of nationality, race, gender and politics. The Noble Peace Prize, is meant to promote peace amongst nations, communities and people and recognises efforts by individuals and organisations in that direction. Barack Obama without doubt is a great man. However, his achievements however lofty they may be today, still do not qualify him for the award of the Noble Peace Prize.

Mr. Obama is the president of the world’s most powerful nation. He is the supreme commander of the mightiest army on Earth, with a nuclear arsenal that can destroy the world several times over. He has also inherited an army, which is largely seen as an occupying force in Iraq and is in active combat in Afghanistan.

Mr. Obama has been in office less than a year. He is yet to resolve an international conflict, stop the proliferation of nuclear weapons in Iran and North Korea, ensure justice to the Palestinians, the Kurds and the Chechans. He is yet to engage with the world as a champion of peace, a harbinger of a different, more equitable world order. To be fair to him, what with the domestic economic turmoil and the healthcare reforms that he has been championing, he has had very little time to make a significant contribution to world peace. He is busy setting his own house in order, the world can wait for a while. One can hardly fault him for his priorities.

Mr. Obama has however spoken of peaceful co-existance amongst nations, about reducing and withdrawing American troops from the world’s trouble spots and of encouraging nations to resolve their differences amicably. He has talked about stopping human rights abuse and has ordered the shutting down of the Guantanamo Bay detention facility holding alleged Al Qaida terrorists without a fair trial.

I submit that Mr. Obama does not be deserve the Noble Peace Prize, for declaring his intent of promoting peace in the world. He has to do a lot more to reduce conflict in the world, promote harmony and peace amongst nations and peoples, before he can rightfully claim the prize.

Ironically, had the Noble committee waited a few years, Mr. Obama might have earned the prize on merit and he would have been saved the acute embarrassment of being the recipient of this great honour, which he knows he does not truly deserve.

If Only They Could Talk-Reading James Herriot

These days I am enjoying James Herriot’s omnibus collection ‘All Creatures Great and Small’. I must confess I am great fan of James Herriot’s writing and have read most of his books including the other omnibus collections ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’ and ‘All things Wise and Wonderful’. A few years ago, I also came across the authorised biography of James Herriot (by his son Jim Wight), in a London bookstore and without much ado picked it up.

I recall I first encountered James Herriot, almost 20 years ago when in school. The CBSE English Core Curriculla, that we were taught had a wonderful James Herriot story titled ‘God is Near’. Even after almost two decades I remember the old lady and her brood of aging dogs and how James Herriot, country vet practising the Yorkshire Dales took care of the dogs and the old woman, who wanted to know from the young and kindly vet, if animals had souls and will she be reunited with her beloved dogs in hereafter.

For the uninitiated, James Herriot’s books are wonderful stories of his experiences as a practising vet in the Yorkshire countryside. Herriot writes with a great and often self depricating humour and compassion about his life and its intersection with numerous farmers and their animals in the beautiful Yourkshire dales. The imaginary village of Darrowby, where Herriot’s practice is based, his senior partner, the curiously named and quirky Siegfried Farnon and his unflappable brother Tristan, their housekeeper Mrs. Hall and the accountant Mrs. Harbottle are characters I have come to adore. James’ wife Helen and her travails in the early days of their courtship and marriage, her stoic acceptance of life with the dedicated vet are hugely enjoyable reads.

The most wonderful thing about Herriot’s stories are that most of them appear to be based on real incidents and portray characters based on real personalities. He writes with such skill that they leap out of the pages, transport the reader in a different, kinder and a charming world. Herriot makes a lot of fun of himself, readily admits to his failures as well as the limitations of the veterinary medicine particularly in the early decades of the last century, shares the disappointments and the successes of his practice and above all highlights the most wonderful and humane nature of his work.

James Alfred Wight, took on James Herriot as his pseudonym, when he decided to try his hand at writing his experiences as a country vet. Wight, was born in 1916 in Sunderland and grew up in Glasgow. He attended the Glasgow Veterinary College and after training as a vet, he moved to Thirsk (Darrowby, in his books), a town in Northern Yorkshire. He worked with Donald Sinclair (Siegfried Farnon, in his works) for more than 50 years in Thirsk, attending to all manner of farm animals and pets. He took up writing much later and his first book ‘If Only They Could Talk’ was published in 1972. He has since than delighted and charmed millions like myself and a blurb on the back of the book I am presently reading informs that he has sold more than ‘14 mn copies in Pan editions’.

Alf Wight succumbed to cancer in 1995. James Herriot, continues to delight millions of readers even today. His books have a quality of timelessness about them. Pick one up today and if you are feeling a little low, it will surly make your day.

Sanjay Dutt MP

So the Supreme Court of India has thrown a big spanner in the works of M/S Amar Singh and Mulayam Singh, by ruling out Sanjay Dutt from the electoral fray. Sanjay Dutt, might be a popular filmstar but in the eyes of the law he is a convicted criminal (Munna Bhai not withstanding). The decision to disqualify him from the elections appears to be consistent with the laws of the land. Sanjay Dutt normally a resident of Mumbai has been convicted of heinous crimes going back to the infamous Mumbai bomb blasts of 1993.

To make matters infinitely more interesting Sanjay Dutt now claims that he has stealthily recorded a conversation with Hansraj Bhardwaj, the law minister of India wherein the minister apparently threatened him to withdraw from the electoral race, failing which he would face the wrath of the government! I am not sure if Sanjay Dutt understands the difference between the executive and the judiciary. Assuming the law minister of India is naive enough to threaten Sanjay, equating his utterances with the pronouncements of the Supreme Court of India would be taking things too far.

Sanjay Dutt, unlike his illustrious father is a a politician of convenience, a mere puppet in the hands of the wily Amar Singh. He is best advised to go back to Mumbai, put on the grease paint and maybe play a politician in a movie. I am sure he will fare a lot better.