-The Backpack-

When I was in school, I had this bag. A tiny little square vibrant in color. Full of pockets it was usually loaded with books and ‘other’ important stuff. Many years later I discovered it in our store room, lying in the corner. It still has the stains of ink and stubborn chocolate. I lift it and a whole lot of memories came back.
Yesterday I passed the great outdoors store. Full of gazettes of modern mountaineering and trekking. The most striking one I though was the back pack section. I though that my old bag was now is replaced with a modern backpack. Just like old days I am choosy and possessive about it. Yet if a friend needs it I can give it away. Because everything else is understood but you possibly can’t be a backpacker until you have a back pack. Your own backpack signifies your existence and a lot more.
You can be a backpacker at any age. But most of the time, you know it from the beginning. It takes time to grow the thoughts but when you realize it, things change a lot. Being a nomad is like celebrating small time happiness. No matter what, you remember the roads you have traveled and move on positively.
You gift your self a back-pack. And like age wise the clothes seem to shrink; you find the size of the pack insufficient. You buy a bigger and better one. You look at the old once with proud and affection. It is full of all those memories you have had with friends. All those journeys you have done together. Your pack might still have the muddy patches and scratches over it. This pack has your special world in it. For every new road you have a new pack. Every new pack shows your readiness for new adventure.
There are threes kinds of back packs that come in a back packers life; at different stages of his journey. One that he borrows as a young, infant packer. In dilemma between two products probably he doesn’t buy anything at all. And ultimately a friend’s pack comes for rescue. Later it stays in your room for long time. My friends pack is still under my bed.
Then there is your first pack. ‘It has to be perfect’ you think, as you go through the catalog of listing two days pack one day pack etc. When you put the selected one on your back its sturdiness and grip matches your tempo and you make a deal. Unlike other new things that you would want to preserve this one you’d fall in love with so much you land up carrying it everywhere. So much that it becomes part of your identity.
I believe that the third one comes much more later; it’s a grown up packers label. You travel more roads, see bigger and better places, and need more ‘space’. Naturally more memories bigger pack!
And then the special one….your friends bag pack. No matter how much it is stuffed; and the contents within might be poking out; amazingly there is always space to place your extra load. That’s why I say a back pack is equal to a back packer! It can share your challenges hear your stories and tell you some things you want to know.

Rider

RIDER

“All this happened one day, kind of suddenly. I got up and I started to walk. The road was so inviting. I went on marching. Like all this time I was sleeping and just woke up. Then came a stage where my legs would not move, so I decided to ride. And ever since I travel roads after roads; may be till either the fuel gets over or the road ends. Fortunately, neither has gone empty so far. I halt for refuel and if I ever see an end to the road well, always find a service road.”

“In the mornings if I am riding east I see the sun rising on my face. That orangish-red sphere of fire of life, I salute it and go on. And at night when it’s going down asks me why won’t I stop? “But I have to run with the stars and moon”
It won’t complain. It just disappears and sees me the following day and the day after. The wind some times runs with me, trying to race me. But she is too fast. Like a restless and playful child she whooshes from right to left and forth and back. Then, all of a sudden she goes far and hides behind the bush. I just smile and move on.”

“Often do I see folks giving me that look! Some envy some love it, some just look and shook their shoulders. But that does not stop me.”

“That’s why I say, I am a lone rider. I ride at sunset I ride at sunrise. The road I travel on never ends. I ride to see the mountain that peeps from behind another and the one behind it too. I ride to see the river, as she molds her cool blue arms around the mountain.
I ride to experience the season change in front of my eyes, to see the leaves turn green in rain and brown in summer and the flowers laughing a million smiles from above the trees, watch their petals come twirling in slow motion singing when the road is empty.”

“This one time I saw a hitchhiker waiting for a ride. I went to him. He sat behind me and pointed towards the tiny spot at distance. I started the machine. When we reached the village he got down and waved good bye. There found a new road, branching from earlier one.
Kicked the bike and buzz I went, yet another friend to make.”

“So I am a lone rider, I ride may be because I am destined to do so.”
With a click I closed the pen. I had to. The rider was not in mood to talk anymore. He was looking at the setting sun, with admiration pouring out of his eyes, saying bye. Then he moved towards his bike, I saw him mount on that machine. And with dusty clouds behind, he went to check his next appointment with starry night.

play my favorite song**

Like channel surfing, music surfing can be real fun too, particularly on mp3 player. Scenario is like this; biker is struggling to maintain smooth journey on a tough road, I am balancing with a pack on my back and partially agonized because I have already missed my favorite song twice in a rush to forward the unwanted list …humm, these journeys can be real fun. I have to thank these hi-tech creators. A few clicks and the mp3 switches to next song. How on earth; does such a small, finger shaped, multi buttoned and multi-function machine work? Moreover, it has a color screen and fabulous sound system that can change the ambience inside listeners mind. But the best part about mp3 is when I land up bumping on to a forgotten favorite song. Not to forget that it can contain as many as 100’s of them.

On a biking expedition where the biker needs to think road-wise and the pillion needs to stay awake without distracting the biker, an mp3 can come handy. Swirling through the mountainous terrains, small routes through jungles or grass lands and open sky makes a complete ensemble…moreover a fabulous number can create wonders. It tones down the sunrays, and the itchy wind can feel silky. Music can soften the extreme conditions in to a tolerable picture.

So on bumpy ride, I hang on to the seat. Look around and spread my hands to catch some sunrays in my hand. “Great” I say and command the little box to play something special, “let this be the most joyous ride of my life”….and I enjoy each second like it’s my first one. I look upwards and see the huge blue sphere far away. In my ears the words are tinkling and it works like magic. Sunny, rainy, chilled, or just pleasant it works just fine.
If the journey is through night, the fun is doubled. It’s cold and windy, on the high way there may be a few tiny little lights shining on either sides. And the blue sphere on top has dipped it self in to some mystique purplish-red golden combination. After a while when it’s all black and dark there remains only music road and us. The bike is in speed and it feels like life is happening very quietly right over here, so come on “let this be the best of all, play my favorite song”…

Don’t say a word

Really don’t say a word

If you do, the tranquility will be disturbed

It will be no more quite!


Very few times my mind stays with me. Most of the time it wants to fly out. Out of the class room, from the office window I have often found my self looking towards the silhouette of mountains n hills n distant valleys thinking “What if I were on that hill? Would I be able to touch the cloud? Breathe-in the wind? Touch that golden brown earth?” So I close my eyes and as soon as I do so a film of my favorite spots starts to float. I quickly visit one place and come back. There are few such places but they are so dear to me. Some are of broad day light but the once with dark starry nights are even classier. They come with a cool and sweet smell.

This reminds me of a short journey…
I am traveling on a huge, tarred smooth road. As I leave the trees and mountains behind, I look back…they never seem to chase; they don’t’ have to. They make a picture print on my memory and go deep in side. I become part of it. It’s like a photo album that I can cherish anytime.

I move on. On my left slowly the sun is going down gathering along its shiny rays and saying adieu and the darkness is spreading a velvety covering. It’s black in color. But not just any black color…this is a very deep shade of black. And there are a few shiny stars twinkling all over it. Within a few minutes it has covered the entire valley, every single rock n corner within. Watching the night unveil its self is very picturesque indeed. It’s the same day and same night that falls all over, yet at certain places if gives another impression.

Simultaneously the temperature is falling; the wind is getting stronger. It’s pure and feels chillier. It seems to be humming a melody in my ears. I love this sound. It also smells sweet; a mixture of crushed leaves and damp earth. I think this smell is very soothing. My favorite! I fill my lungs with it as much as possible.

Now, the night has taken over completely. I am surrounded by pitch darkness and sheer silence. Only the vehicle is making noise. Somehow the darkness and the silence are not scary. It’s peaceful, allowing everything under it to rest. As if it is patting the exhausted nature to sleep. The birds, the animals and the smallest creature, they are all asleep. Only the nocturnal creatures are allowed to move around. But even they don’t break the rule of silence. The night is healing everything with its touch. I see the gigantic outline of mountains. They seem to be relaxing too. For a few minutes I stop over there. Just to feel the darkness. I look around; my eyes trying to pierce the dark layer struggling to see the objects......in vain. Its super dark! It’s super cool!! I am thinking of darkness in a new way now.

I start to travel again. As the vehicle catches speed once again I turn around to see the darkness embracing the road. It’s disappearing in to calmness. And ahead of me, in the strong headlight the long sleek road unfolds it self. The same road then runs back and disappears. I think it looks pretty!

I continue to travel. May be all that is around me is healing me as well. Not from out side really, but from inside. I feel numb for a while. I need not think or talk. It feels relaxing.

It’s a matter of few hours now. This long journey through still darkness will be over, I will be surrounded by noises, honking and clattering. The nights full of strong lights, buzzing roads etc.
So enjoy this mystique voyage for a while. Don’t speak be quite.