It started as a facebook status and turned in to a rap battle. Several sources gave in awesome impromptu inputs and we had a poem with a theme et .al..
Presenting the Poets of the Wall: Kartik, Mojo, DG, Tinku and Rohu.
Leaving far behind the placid plain,
and standing there at the base of the range,
Fully geared and ready on my feet,
staring wide, straight at the peak.
Home was warm and had everything I need.
It was my playground, my school, my world indeed,
and so it always will be, but this is my time,
I stand here today 'cause I have a mountain to climb.
It is the smallest of the major rivers in India, but waters of Kaveri (a.k.a Cauvery) have historically been the life blood for regions of the far South. The river, which is fabled to be an offspring of Brahma, has entire Hindu legends and mythologies based around it, and is venerated as a goddess. Some religious texts even deem it to be more sacred than the Ganga, and perhaps with a good reason. Kaveri, with its tributaries, has forever been the chief source of water in these parts. It has nurtured the Southern kingdoms since the Iron Age, seen their rise and fall and been an integral part of the culture and heritage here. Even today, Kaveri river system is the prime source of fresh water for two of the country's biggest states, Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, and has been the cause of a major geopolitical conflict between the two states for over a century.
Bangalore, Karnataka's capital and the city where I currently reside, heavily depends on Kaveri for water and power. Living in Bangalore, one becomes fairly acquainted with the river and any issue or development related to it. But, the river itself passes a 100 kms away from the city, and I happened to first touch its banks on a road trip to Bheemeshwari.
So, how many techies does it take to setup a camp?
Five, apparently. Although it was dark and the terrain was rocky and the tents malfunctioned, but with sufficient intellect, motivational skills and YouTube, it was a job well done in the end. Of course, food, water and firewood were provided by the resort we were put up at, and thank goodness, there was no wildlife, especially mosquitoes.
Me and a group of vella friends had decided to go on a camping trip to Yelagiri, a small hill station in Tamil Nadu, around 200 km from Bangalore. The occasion was the birthday of a fellow aspiring camper. It was decided that we will do our experiments at the Aura Valley Resort (which allegedly is a great place to come as you are). Tents and sleeping bags were to be rented from a shop in Banashankari, Bangalore, everything else was to be taken care of by the resort folks.
Five, apparently. Although it was dark and the terrain was rocky and the tents malfunctioned, but with sufficient intellect, motivational skills and YouTube, it was a job well done in the end. Of course, food, water and firewood were provided by the resort we were put up at, and thank goodness, there was no wildlife, especially mosquitoes.
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Me and a group of vella friends had decided to go on a camping trip to Yelagiri, a small hill station in Tamil Nadu, around 200 km from Bangalore. The occasion was the birthday of a fellow aspiring camper. It was decided that we will do our experiments at the Aura Valley Resort (which allegedly is a great place to come as you are). Tents and sleeping bags were to be rented from a shop in Banashankari, Bangalore, everything else was to be taken care of by the resort folks.
This is how it started . . .
. . . and just like that, two weeks later we were on NH7, riding a Bullet loaded with huge backpacks, cruising on a 600 km journey from Bangalore to Hyderabad.
Me: I need to go to Hyderabad.
Friend: Go on your bike.
Me: Yes, actually.
Friend: Great, I will come too.
. . . and just like that, two weeks later we were on NH7, riding a Bullet loaded with huge backpacks, cruising on a 600 km journey from Bangalore to Hyderabad.
Searching for beliefs that are truly mine.
Searching for instincts coming from the divine.
Searching for a road devoid of any sign.
Searching for that familiar but lost old wine.
She roars across the city raising the dust in its tracks. It clears all the traffic in its way no matter how thick it is. She feels like a monster and guzzles fuel by the gallon. It is a long standing symbol of power, aggression and arrogance. And no, I am not talking about the Humvee or the Haryana Roadways bus. She is my Yamaha RX-135, set loose in the city of Bangalore.
Lets start with the numbers first. I own a 2001 model, bought second hand for Rs. 25,000. It had been ridden 20,000 km then (and now after a year it is 30,000 km). For the unfamiliar, she has a single cylinder, two stroke engine, with a displacement of 132.00 ccm which gives a 12 bhp burst at 6500 rpm, and a torque of 12 nm at 5500 rpm. In other words, a 0-60 kmph in 5 sec. She has a 4-speed gear box and a top speed of 120 kmph. She is small in size and weighs less than 100 kg (its power-to-weight ratio is more than that of a mini cooper) which gives it an outstanding maneuverability, making it a perfect city bike: and me and her have been through a lot on the streets of this city.
