Read Part One and Two the story before reading this part.
It was a beautiful winter morning. The sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly.
The cold morning air hit against my face.
I smiled. I was feeling light, happy and liberated.
I had nothing to hold me back. The open road ahead was calling out to me.
The bike drove excellently. It was nothing like the small bike I used to ride at hostel. I wished I could call my friend Arnob, who was a biking freak, and tell him about this bike. Then I remembered that I had promised myself that I was not going to keep in touch with any of the college guys.
I didn’t face much problem riding the heavy bike. I mean, despite its heavy weight, it was very easy to ride.
We rode silently, with Barney sitting quietly behind me.
Occasionally he made me stop the bike. He would get down; take out his huge sophisticated camera, and then he would take a long time adjusting the lens of the camera, checking out the light. I realized this old man was just like me, and how interested he was in admiring the beauty of the nature.
I asked Barney where we were. I mean I had got down from the train at a strange place, and had walked the whole night in the dark. Then I had driven for about an hour on a bike. I had no idea where the hell I was.
He quickly replied that we were somewhere in Orissa, somewhere near to a town called Sambalpur.
“Good” I replied. “We can fix your leg there”.
We reached Sambalpur in another half an hour.
It was like any other small Indian town, lazy and dirty. The market place was crowded with all kinds of people.
We found a doctor’s clinic in the market.
The doctor confirmed my fears that it was a broken leg. He plastered the leg, and told Barney he should take fifteen days rest, and that he should not put too much pressure on his leg.
Barney looked at me and winked. I just smiled back at him.
We hung around in the town for a little while. We had our lunch in the market. Barney paid for me. I didn’t even object. Hell, how could I object? I had no money. Barney must have guessed my situation. But he didn’t ask me about my past, and I too didn’t tell him anything about it. All that we knew was that we were two strangers from different countries, but we shared the same enthusiasm for travelling and nature.
He bought a few other stuffs for me, a riding jacket, a helmet, riding gloves, and a small tent.
‘He must be stinking rich’ I thought to myself. Why else would somebody pay for a stranger who he wasn’t even sure would stick with him throughout the journey?
After lunch we visited some nearby temples; the Samaleswari Temple, The Leaning Temple of Huma and the Ghanteshwari Temple. Barney was excited about each of them, and kept clicking photos with his camera. I wasn’t too impressed with them. I mean they were all old and everything, but they were just temples.
Then old Barney said we should start moving again. The famous Hirakud Dam was just fifteen kilometers from Sambalpur.
Barney was over the moon to see the world’s largest earthen dam.
The Hirakud was amazing. I mean, it made me feel proud of my country. Hell, it was the first major multipurpose river valley project started just after India's independence. My people weren’t so lazy and useless after all.
I had just read about the Hirakud in geography books. But standing in front of it was something else. It was massive! Maybe more than twenty five kilometers in length.
After that we started moving again. Our next target was to reach the Kumarbandh village in the Belpahar-Banharpali range before night fall. It was around ninety kilometers from Sambalpur.
We reached Kumarbandh in the late evening. Barney told me about an island called Cattle Island at one of the extreme points of the Hirakud Reservoir.
“Cattle Island? What kind of name was that?” I asked
“The island is actually a submerged hill, and before the construction of the Hirakud Dam it was a developed village. During the resettlement period, the villagers left some of their cattle behind; when the dam construction was over, the cattle settled on the hilltop” Barney told me.
I was amazed. I mean, wasn’t I supposed to be the local guy here? It was the foreigner who was educating the local guy about his own country.
We left our bike near the reservoir, and hired a boat to reach the island.
Barney started conversing with the boat man in his strong accented Hindi. I smiled at myself. At least he is trying to belong here, trying to be a part of our language and culture. And what we did was try and ape them, trying to copy their accent, their culture, their food, their way of living. The irony of the situation made me smile.
The boat man was telling Barney “The nearby area filled up with the reservoir water, turning the hilltop into an island. The cattle were now wild, very swift and not easily caught. Living on a hilltop with dense forest, they are larger than your tame cattle. Almost all of them are white in color.”
The boat man was acting like our guide.
“Sometimes we try to capture these animals from time to time, but these hunts are rarely successful.” he said.
“These animals provide a contrasting picture of their breed returning to life in the wild. Nature is strange” Barney commented with a sigh.
Anyway, that was much of my first day with this stranger from a different part of the world who had befriended me. He had actually saved me from destructing myself.
Sometimes I still think about this spirited guy, what he meant to me, what was his importance in my life.
I mean he was a rich guy, and must have been to many different countries in the world. In each of these countries he must have met hundreds of different people. I wonder when he thinks about all his adventures all over the world, would he still remember me? Was I significant enough in his life to remember me? I will remember him forever in my life. But would it be the same from his side?
Maybe not. Maybe that’s why he used to take so many photographs; to help him remember.
Ok. So that was the first day with Barney. I ended up travelling with him for over a month. We didn’t have any particular destination in mind. We would spend a few days at some place. And when we felt like it, we would decide our next destination.
This is my story, and I don’t want it to sound like a stupid travelogue. So I won’t get into the details of the journey.
But let me tell you the places we covered over our one month journey.
After Sambalpur our next stop was at Varanasi, the holy place of the hindus in India. Varanasi was six hundred and eighty five kilometers from Sambalpur. And the ride along the NH2 was the best I had ever travelled on.
Barney just loved Varanasi. We stayed there for five days. Barney would follow the other hindu devotees in their deep in the holy river. I was not too enthusiastic about washing my sins in the river, but he forced me to do it. Then we would seat with the holy man. Barney would smoke weed with them. Then they would talk about God, religion, duty and other intellectual shit. I would not take much part in it, just offering a few of my own views here and there, but listening and learning for most of the part.
 |
| Barney |
The cold morning air hit against my face.
I smiled. I was feeling light, happy and liberated.
I had nothing to hold me back. The open road ahead was calling out to me.
The bike drove excellently. It was nothing like the small bike I used to ride at hostel. I wished I could call my friend Arnob, who was a biking freak, and tell him about this bike. Then I remembered that I had promised myself that I was not going to keep in touch with any of the college guys.
I didn’t face much problem riding the heavy bike. I mean, despite its heavy weight, it was very easy to ride.
We rode silently, with Barney sitting quietly behind me.
Occasionally he made me stop the bike. He would get down; take out his huge sophisticated camera, and then he would take a long time adjusting the lens of the camera, checking out the light. I realized this old man was just like me, and how interested he was in admiring the beauty of the nature.
I asked Barney where we were. I mean I had got down from the train at a strange place, and had walked the whole night in the dark. Then I had driven for about an hour on a bike. I had no idea where the hell I was.
He quickly replied that we were somewhere in Orissa, somewhere near to a town called Sambalpur.
“Good” I replied. “We can fix your leg there”.
We reached Sambalpur in another half an hour.
It was like any other small Indian town, lazy and dirty. The market place was crowded with all kinds of people.
We found a doctor’s clinic in the market.
The doctor confirmed my fears that it was a broken leg. He plastered the leg, and told Barney he should take fifteen days rest, and that he should not put too much pressure on his leg.
Barney looked at me and winked. I just smiled back at him.
We hung around in the town for a little while. We had our lunch in the market. Barney paid for me. I didn’t even object. Hell, how could I object? I had no money. Barney must have guessed my situation. But he didn’t ask me about my past, and I too didn’t tell him anything about it. All that we knew was that we were two strangers from different countries, but we shared the same enthusiasm for travelling and nature.
He bought a few other stuffs for me, a riding jacket, a helmet, riding gloves, and a small tent.
‘He must be stinking rich’ I thought to myself. Why else would somebody pay for a stranger who he wasn’t even sure would stick with him throughout the journey?
After lunch we visited some nearby temples; the Samaleswari Temple, The Leaning Temple of Huma and the Ghanteshwari Temple. Barney was excited about each of them, and kept clicking photos with his camera. I wasn’t too impressed with them. I mean they were all old and everything, but they were just temples.
Then old Barney said we should start moving again. The famous Hirakud Dam was just fifteen kilometers from Sambalpur.
Barney was over the moon to see the world’s largest earthen dam.
The Hirakud was amazing. I mean, it made me feel proud of my country. Hell, it was the first major multipurpose river valley project started just after India's independence. My people weren’t so lazy and useless after all.
I had just read about the Hirakud in geography books. But standing in front of it was something else. It was massive! Maybe more than twenty five kilometers in length.
After that we started moving again. Our next target was to reach the Kumarbandh village in the Belpahar-Banharpali range before night fall. It was around ninety kilometers from Sambalpur.
We reached Kumarbandh in the late evening. Barney told me about an island called Cattle Island at one of the extreme points of the Hirakud Reservoir.
“Cattle Island? What kind of name was that?” I asked
“The island is actually a submerged hill, and before the construction of the Hirakud Dam it was a developed village. During the resettlement period, the villagers left some of their cattle behind; when the dam construction was over, the cattle settled on the hilltop” Barney told me.
I was amazed. I mean, wasn’t I supposed to be the local guy here? It was the foreigner who was educating the local guy about his own country.
We left our bike near the reservoir, and hired a boat to reach the island.
Barney started conversing with the boat man in his strong accented Hindi. I smiled at myself. At least he is trying to belong here, trying to be a part of our language and culture. And what we did was try and ape them, trying to copy their accent, their culture, their food, their way of living. The irony of the situation made me smile.
The boat man was telling Barney “The nearby area filled up with the reservoir water, turning the hilltop into an island. The cattle were now wild, very swift and not easily caught. Living on a hilltop with dense forest, they are larger than your tame cattle. Almost all of them are white in color.”
The boat man was acting like our guide.
“Sometimes we try to capture these animals from time to time, but these hunts are rarely successful.” he said.
“These animals provide a contrasting picture of their breed returning to life in the wild. Nature is strange” Barney commented with a sigh.
Anyway, that was much of my first day with this stranger from a different part of the world who had befriended me. He had actually saved me from destructing myself.
Sometimes I still think about this spirited guy, what he meant to me, what was his importance in my life.
I mean he was a rich guy, and must have been to many different countries in the world. In each of these countries he must have met hundreds of different people. I wonder when he thinks about all his adventures all over the world, would he still remember me? Was I significant enough in his life to remember me? I will remember him forever in my life. But would it be the same from his side?
Maybe not. Maybe that’s why he used to take so many photographs; to help him remember.
Ok. So that was the first day with Barney. I ended up travelling with him for over a month. We didn’t have any particular destination in mind. We would spend a few days at some place. And when we felt like it, we would decide our next destination.
This is my story, and I don’t want it to sound like a stupid travelogue. So I won’t get into the details of the journey.
But let me tell you the places we covered over our one month journey.
After Sambalpur our next stop was at Varanasi, the holy place of the hindus in India. Varanasi was six hundred and eighty five kilometers from Sambalpur. And the ride along the NH2 was the best I had ever travelled on.
Barney just loved Varanasi. We stayed there for five days. Barney would follow the other hindu devotees in their deep in the holy river. I was not too enthusiastic about washing my sins in the river, but he forced me to do it. Then we would seat with the holy man. Barney would smoke weed with them. Then they would talk about God, religion, duty and other intellectual shit. I would not take much part in it, just offering a few of my own views here and there, but listening and learning for most of the part.
 |
| our route |
From Varanasi we travelled to Allahabad which was just a hundred and thirty kilometers from Varanasi.
Barney was amazed at how holy the hindus considered the meeting point of the three rivers. We spent a few days camping at the Triveni Sangam, the confluence of the holy rivers Ganges and Yamuna, and the ancient Sarasvati River.
Then we travelled to the ancient city of the Nawabs, Lucknow.
I had stayed in Uttar Pradesh since my childhood, and I was ashamed that I had never travelled to this city. God, the people here are damn lucky. I had never in my life tasted anything that was even remotely as tasty as the Kakori Kebabs, Galawati Kebabs, Shami Kebabs, Boti Kababs, Patili-ke-Kababs, Ghutwa Kababs and Seekh Kababs that I tasted here. These dishes left an ever lasting taste in my moth. I have never ever been able to enjoy non vegetarian food of any other place, after I had tasted these dishes of heaven.
After Lucknow, Barney wanted to visit Kanpur, my home town. It took a lot of convincing and lies on my part to convince him to skip this city.
We skipped Kanpur, and directly reached Agra, the city of the impressive Taj Mahal.
Needless to say, Barney went crazy here. I guess there was not even a single angle of the Taj from which Barney must not have taken a picture.
While riding to Delhi, Barney whispered in my ears “Ab Delhi dur nahi” (Delhi is not far).
I thought about it, and made my decision.
At our next break, I told Barney about my decision. I would not be able to accompany him any farther. I had reached my destination.
He showed the slightest sign of regret for the smallest second, and then smiled at me, and gave me a hug.
He didn’t ask me why I wanted to stop at Delhi. Good thing though. I would not have been able to reply to that one, for I had not the slightest idea what I was going to do there.
So we said our goodbyes at Delhi.
Barney told me he was going to travel as far as Leh in the extreme north of India. Then he would sell the bike, and maybe go to another country.
I suddenly had an idea.
“Hey, can you give me a call when you want to sell your bike. I might think about buying it from you”.
“Sure. Give me a number where I can call you” he said.
I hesitated. I didn’t have any contact number.
“I will contact you. Give me your number”, I said.
He laughed. “Boy, are you stupid? You travelled with me for over a month. Do I ever stay at one place for too long? I don’t have any contact number. That is the bottom line, right? I just don’t want to be followed wherever I go. It is just me and my bike”.
Now tell me, how could you not admire a guy who could say things like that?
Anyway, that was the end of my jourmney. But my story isn’t finished yet.
The initial one month in Delhi was the hardest in my life, even harder than the days I had to endure studying the engineering subjects. I was always hungry, tired and frustrated.
But I never cried. I never complained.
I had learnt better. After jumping the train, the course of events in my life had taught me enough. Life was a journey. We just have to keep on travelling. Sometimes we might take a wrong turn and end up at a dead end. But we always have the option to take a reverse, and find another road.
I finally landed a job at a call center.
I didn’t like the job, but I needed it.
At the same time I also developed a fascination for photography. I wanted to know why Barney loved photography so much.
I would work at the call centre at night, and attend a photography class during the day.
I guess I just had the knack for photography, because it was easy for me. I just loved it. Not like the engineering studies I so used to hate.
When you love what you are doing, you put all your heart and soul into it.
I soon managed to save enough to be able to buy a Nikon SLR. That was my first camera.
After that it was relatively easy.
I soon started taking photographs all the time. I would sleep with my camera. Even during eating I would check out how the food on my plate looked through the lenses.
When you put your all in one thing, you are bound to succeed. My first photo of the sun set soon won the first prize in a local photography competition.
After that there was no looking back. Very soon various photography and travel magazines were publishing my photos.
And I got a good price for my photographs too.
So I decided to quit the call centre, and devote my entire time and energy to photography.
Very soon I was also writing travelogues for various travel magazines all over the country.
Yes, I also got in touch with Barney.
Thanks to the internet, I soon found out that he was a very famous photographer of France. I got his email address, and dropped him a mail.
The old fella remembered me!
That was enough for me.
It has been six years now since I jumped that train.
I am twenty five now. And I am rich and famous. Not as stinking rich as Barney. But I am happy and independent.
I have my own Royal Enfield now. And I travel with it all over the country. And the funny thing is I get paid for it too.
I get paid for what I love doing.
I sometimes get invited to speak at colleges and corporate bodies. They pay me for listening to me speak shit about my life. They say it is inspiring for the students and the employees.
I am always surprised.
Me?
My life serves as an inspiration to people? Me, who once thought of ending his life, me, who jumped from the train because he had no idea, what to do with his life, or where to go.
If my life could be an inspiration, I am damn sure your’s would be even better.
Just believe in yourself, and follow your dreams.
Yeah, yeah, I know I sound corny now, just like those fat successful sons- of- bitches who used to lecture us just because they were successful and we were not.
But I have earned that privilege, don’t you think so?
Yeah, and the next time you see a photo in a wildlife or travel magazine, signed ‘Amc’, and you start wondering how lucky the photographer must be, just tell yourself that this guy once considered himself to be a loser, big enough to think about ending his own life.
Signed
Yours truly
Amc
- Concluded
Barney was amazed at how holy the hindus considered the meeting point of the three rivers. We spent a few days camping at the Triveni Sangam, the confluence of the holy rivers Ganges and Yamuna, and the ancient Sarasvati River.
Then we travelled to the ancient city of the Nawabs, Lucknow.
I had stayed in Uttar Pradesh since my childhood, and I was ashamed that I had never travelled to this city. God, the people here are damn lucky. I had never in my life tasted anything that was even remotely as tasty as the Kakori Kebabs, Galawati Kebabs, Shami Kebabs, Boti Kababs, Patili-ke-Kababs, Ghutwa Kababs and Seekh Kababs that I tasted here. These dishes left an ever lasting taste in my moth. I have never ever been able to enjoy non vegetarian food of any other place, after I had tasted these dishes of heaven.
After Lucknow, Barney wanted to visit Kanpur, my home town. It took a lot of convincing and lies on my part to convince him to skip this city.
We skipped Kanpur, and directly reached Agra, the city of the impressive Taj Mahal.
Needless to say, Barney went crazy here. I guess there was not even a single angle of the Taj from which Barney must not have taken a picture.
While riding to Delhi, Barney whispered in my ears “Ab Delhi dur nahi” (Delhi is not far).
I thought about it, and made my decision.
At our next break, I told Barney about my decision. I would not be able to accompany him any farther. I had reached my destination.
He showed the slightest sign of regret for the smallest second, and then smiled at me, and gave me a hug.
He didn’t ask me why I wanted to stop at Delhi. Good thing though. I would not have been able to reply to that one, for I had not the slightest idea what I was going to do there.
So we said our goodbyes at Delhi.
Barney told me he was going to travel as far as Leh in the extreme north of India. Then he would sell the bike, and maybe go to another country.
I suddenly had an idea.
“Hey, can you give me a call when you want to sell your bike. I might think about buying it from you”.
“Sure. Give me a number where I can call you” he said.
I hesitated. I didn’t have any contact number.
“I will contact you. Give me your number”, I said.
He laughed. “Boy, are you stupid? You travelled with me for over a month. Do I ever stay at one place for too long? I don’t have any contact number. That is the bottom line, right? I just don’t want to be followed wherever I go. It is just me and my bike”.
Now tell me, how could you not admire a guy who could say things like that?
Anyway, that was the end of my jourmney. But my story isn’t finished yet.
The initial one month in Delhi was the hardest in my life, even harder than the days I had to endure studying the engineering subjects. I was always hungry, tired and frustrated.
But I never cried. I never complained.
I had learnt better. After jumping the train, the course of events in my life had taught me enough. Life was a journey. We just have to keep on travelling. Sometimes we might take a wrong turn and end up at a dead end. But we always have the option to take a reverse, and find another road.
I finally landed a job at a call center.
I didn’t like the job, but I needed it.
At the same time I also developed a fascination for photography. I wanted to know why Barney loved photography so much.
I would work at the call centre at night, and attend a photography class during the day.
I guess I just had the knack for photography, because it was easy for me. I just loved it. Not like the engineering studies I so used to hate.
When you love what you are doing, you put all your heart and soul into it.
I soon managed to save enough to be able to buy a Nikon SLR. That was my first camera.
After that it was relatively easy.
I soon started taking photographs all the time. I would sleep with my camera. Even during eating I would check out how the food on my plate looked through the lenses.
When you put your all in one thing, you are bound to succeed. My first photo of the sun set soon won the first prize in a local photography competition.
After that there was no looking back. Very soon various photography and travel magazines were publishing my photos.
And I got a good price for my photographs too.
So I decided to quit the call centre, and devote my entire time and energy to photography.
Very soon I was also writing travelogues for various travel magazines all over the country.
Yes, I also got in touch with Barney.
Thanks to the internet, I soon found out that he was a very famous photographer of France. I got his email address, and dropped him a mail.
The old fella remembered me!
That was enough for me.
It has been six years now since I jumped that train.
I am twenty five now. And I am rich and famous. Not as stinking rich as Barney. But I am happy and independent.
I have my own Royal Enfield now. And I travel with it all over the country. And the funny thing is I get paid for it too.
I get paid for what I love doing.
I sometimes get invited to speak at colleges and corporate bodies. They pay me for listening to me speak shit about my life. They say it is inspiring for the students and the employees.
I am always surprised.
Me?
My life serves as an inspiration to people? Me, who once thought of ending his life, me, who jumped from the train because he had no idea, what to do with his life, or where to go.
If my life could be an inspiration, I am damn sure your’s would be even better.
Just believe in yourself, and follow your dreams.
Yeah, yeah, I know I sound corny now, just like those fat successful sons- of- bitches who used to lecture us just because they were successful and we were not.
But I have earned that privilege, don’t you think so?
Yeah, and the next time you see a photo in a wildlife or travel magazine, signed ‘Amc’, and you start wondering how lucky the photographer must be, just tell yourself that this guy once considered himself to be a loser, big enough to think about ending his own life.
Signed
Yours truly
Amc
- Concluded
