About Me

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Mumbai, Maharastra, India
Born in Mumbai, my earliest memory in life is a story. A story that said – perhaps I was adopted. Every person has a story to tell. I like to listen and most of them form the base for the stories I write. I also teach creative writing to students and professionals from all walks of life. Many have a story to tell...I help them to pen it down. I also edit, guide and help students create Statement of Purposes, LORs, Resumes and Personal Essays for their Study Abroad documentations. Please go through the samples of the SOPs done by me...I work via the electronic media with students at a global level. I also help corporates as well as individuals in regards to handling all their communication needs. Brochures, newsletters, pamphlets or press releases are delivered under strict time-lines and as per international quality.

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

My Love Affair with My Job: A Tale of Professional Romance and Humor

Relationships come in many forms, but none is quite as unique as the one we share with our jobs. Be it the first job - or one of the many jobs thereafter. Like any good romance, it has its highs, lows, and moments that make us laugh out loud. Here’s a peek into my love affair with my career, filled with romantic flourishes and humorous twists. 

The Courtship: Just like meeting a potential life partner, the beginning was all about the chase. I remember our first meeting—the interview. Butterflies in my stomach, hands slightly clammy, I dressed up in my best outfit, hoping to make a great impression. It was like a first date, filled with nerves and excitement. I even found myself saying, “I think we have a real connection here.”

The Honeymoon Phase: Those first few months were pure bliss. Everything was new and exciting. I was eager to impress, arriving early, staying late, and always with a smile on my face. We were inseparable; I spoke about my job to anyone who would listen, just like a love-struck individual can’t stop talking about their new partner. Even the coffee tasted better!

Settling into Routine: Like any relationship, the initial excitement began to mellow into a comfortable routine. I knew what to expect each day, and while the passion wasn’t as fiery, there was a deepening respect and understanding. I started wearing my “comfortable” work clothes, just like switching from date-night outfits to cozy pajamas.

The First Fight: No relationship is without its conflicts. Our first disagreement came when I felt overwhelmed with a project’s demands. It was as if my job was asking, “Why don’t you understand me?” There were late nights and a few tears, but we made up, promising to communicate better. I might have even said, “It’s not you, it’s me,” at one point.

Romantic Gestures: There are moments when my job surprises me with thoughtful gestures. Like the time I got an unexpected bonus—equivalent to a surprise bouquet of roses. Or when my boss acknowledged my hard work in front of everyone—it felt like receiving a love letter. These moments reignite the spark and remind me why I fell in love with my career in the first place.

Growing Together: Over time, I’ve realized that, much like with a life partner, growing together is key. My job and I have learned to adapt, evolve, and support each other’s growth. I’ve taken on new roles, and my responsibilities have expanded, keeping the relationship dynamic and fulfilling.

The Commitment: At the end of the day, my relationship with my job is built on commitment, much like a marriage. Through thick and thin, late nights and early mornings, we stick together. And just like in any good relationship, we celebrate the victories, big and small, and face the challenges head-on.

So here’s to my professional romance—filled with passion, laughter, and a commitment that keeps us going. And just like any great love story, it’s the journey, with all its ups and downs, that makes it truly worthwhile.

Sunday, September 22, 2024

Between Ambition and Lullabies: A Mother’s Balancing Act

 

Three-year-old Nathan was bawling—again. His little face scrunched up, tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched his mom cradle his baby brother, Jonas. “Up! Mama, up!” he demanded, arms outstretched. His mother sighed, her body aching from exhaustion but managed a tired smile. She lifted him onto her hip, balancing both boys like a circus act.

It had been a long day—one of many. The sleepless nights had blurred into endless days of changing diapers, soothing cries, and trying to catch even a moment to herself. But her heart, despite the weariness, found strength in the love she had for her sons.

Nathan adored Jonas; he truly did. He’d pat his baby brother’s head with chubby fingers and bring him toys—until he realized that Mom was holding Jonas again. Then the protests would start. One particularly exhausting afternoon, Nathan decided to "solve" the problem. In his toddler wisdom, he tied a small toy truck to Jonas’s onesie, his face lighting up with anticipation, hoping it would make Mom laugh—and it did! Her tired laughter bubbled up, but it was directed at Jonas. Nathan’s little heart sank; he had wanted that laugh for himself. His lower lip quivered, and he tugged at her skirt, needing reassurance.

Without a word, she knelt down, drawing Nathan close, her arms wrapping around both boys. “I see you, my love,” she whispered gently into his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Mama always sees you.”

One evening, as her husband walked in after a long day at work, he found her slumped in the rocking chair, eyes half-closed, cradling a dozing Jonas while Nathan curled at her feet, playing quietly with his toy cars. Silently, he took Jonas from her arms, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. “You rest tonight,” he murmured, his voice steady and reassuring. “I’ve got Jonas.”

Relieved but too tired to say much, she smiled gratefully, her heart full as she watched her husband gently rock their youngest son. For the first time that day, she felt like she could breathe again. She knew she wasn’t alone.

Nathan, meanwhile, wasn’t done with his mischief. One evening, in a burst of excitement, he hid under the laundry basket and popped out with a loud “Boo!” just as she was changing Jonas. The surprise made Jonas giggle, but Mom nearly dropped the baby in shock. “Oh, Nathan!” she gasped, exasperated but unable to hold back a grin. Nathan’s eyes sparkled, finally earning the reaction he’d been looking for.

Though her body was weary, her heart swelled with love as she watched Nathan’s wide smile. “You’re my little rascals,” she whispered, pulling both boys into a squishy hug. In that embrace, the tiredness faded away, replaced by a warm glow in her chest. Nathan nestled against her, content, finally satisfied in the arms of the woman who loved him more than anything in the world.

And though each day came with new challenges, her heart found strength again and again in these small moments—moments when love outweighed the exhaustion, when their laughter drowned out her fatigue.

At night, after the boys were finally asleep, she would often sit on the edge of the bed, sipping tea as her husband wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’re amazing,” he’d say softly. “I don’t know how you do it.”

She’d lean into him, feeling the weight of the day slowly lift. “I don’t either,” she’d chuckle. But deep down, she knew. It was because every moment with Nathan and Jonas, every smile, every hug—it was all worth it.

Tuesday, September 3, 2024

The Tight Rope Walk - Finding Love

Diana, now in her late forties, found herself stepping into a new chapter of life. After a long and tumultuous 28-year marriage, she made the brave decision to end it when she finally felt financially independent.

Though she had been married for so long, Diana had always craved a deeper, more genuine kind of love—something she never quite found with her ex-husband. They were childhood sweethearts who had grown into adults with different values and dreams. While family and friends adored them both, they had little in common. The spark that had once connected them was long gone. 
To break the monotony of her newfound single life, Diana decided to give online dating a try. She met a series of men who claimed to be single but were clearly just looking for some fun. She quickly learned to brush these encounters aside, knowing that what she wanted was something real. Then, one day, she met someone different—a man who seemed to check all the boxes on her list. He was kind, genuine, and fun to be around. However, he was also a decade younger than her, which gave her pause. Could she really open her heart to someone so much younger?

Despite her doubts, Diana found herself enjoying his company immensely. He was easygoing and sincere; with him, she could go to a movie and actually enjoy it, or have a simple lunch or dinner without any pretense. There were no grand gestures or showiness—just a refreshing simplicity that made her feel at ease. As they spent more time together, Diana felt a connection growing—a band forming around her heart.

The man, however, still hoped to find the woman of his dreams. He had marriage on his mind, but he cherished the friendship that was blossoming between them. One day, he proposed an idea to Diana: a friendship that would last a lifetime, one that would bridge the gap until he found his life partner. No dramas, no fuss—just companionship and support.

Diana smiled at his sincerity. It wasn’t what she had initially been searching for, but maybe it was what she needed—a heartfelt connection, free from the pressure of labels and expectations. She agreed to his proposal, content in knowing that for now, they could simply be two souls finding solace in each other’s company. And as they walked this path together, Diana realized that sometimes, the love you crave doesn’t always come in the form you expect. Sometimes, it comes softly, in the form of a deep and meaningful friendship.

And more importantly - Oscar Wilde said that to Love Oneself Is the Beginning of a Lifelong Romance

Thursday, June 27, 2024

Finding Love and Staying Loved

Once upon a time, in a small, quaint village nestled among rolling hills, there lived an elderly woman named Miriam. Miriam had devoted her entire life to raising her only child, a son named Jacob. From the moment Jacob was born, he was the center of her world. Miriam worked tirelessly to provide for him, ensuring he had everything he needed and more. Her love for him was boundless, and their bond was unbreakable.

As Jacob grew, he flourished into a kind and handsome young man. Miriam's heart swelled with pride and joy as she watched him achieve his dreams and become the man she always knew he could be. She dreamed of the day when Jacob would marry and they would live together as a big, happy family. Her dream seemed to come true when Jacob fell in love with a beautiful woman named Emily. They married in a grand ceremony, and soon after, a precious grandson, Ethan, was born. 

For a short time, Miriam's life was complete. She spent her days doting on her grandson, sharing stories and teaching him the ways of the world. She believed her dreams had come to fruition. However, her joy was short-lived. Emily, Jacob's wife, did not accept Miriam as part of their family. She felt threatened by Miriam's presence and sought to distance Jacob and Ethan from her.

Miriam's heart ached as she was slowly pushed out of their lives. She tried to win Emily over with kindness, but her efforts were in vain. The day came when Jacob, torn between his love for his mother and his desire to keep peace in his home, made the difficult decision to ask Miriam to live apart from them. Miriam's world crumbled as she packed her belongings and left the home filled with the laughter and love of her grandson.

In her small, quiet cottage on the outskirts of the village, Miriam found herself alone. The once vibrant and warm house now felt cold and empty. She missed the sound of Ethan's laughter, the feel of his tiny hand in hers, and the sight of Jacob's smiling face. She spent her days in a haze of sorrow, her heart heavy with grief.

Yet, amidst the loneliness, Miriam knew she needed to find a way to carry on. She began to explore new hobbies, finding solace in the garden she tended with care. She planted flowers that burst into brilliant colors, each bloom a small reminder of the beauty that still existed in the world. She joined a local knitting circle, where she met other women who shared their stories and became her friends. They laughed together, knitted together, and slowly, the emptiness in her heart began to fill. 

Jacob never forgot his mother. He visited her as often as he could, bringing Ethan along whenever possible. These visits were bittersweet for Miriam, a reminder of what she had lost and what she still cherished. She held onto these moments, treasuring each hug and kiss from her grandson.

One day, as Miriam sat in her garden, Ethan ran to her with a drawing he had made. It was a picture of their family, with Miriam right in the center. Tears filled her eyes as she realized that, despite the distance and the pain, she was still a vital part of their lives. Jacob knelt beside her and whispered, "I love you, Mom. You'll always be my family."

Miriam knew her dreams of living as a big family had changed, but she found peace in knowing that love could bridge the distance. She embraced the new life she had built, filled with flowers, friends, and the occasional visit from her beloved son and grandson. Though her heart still ached, it also held a quiet strength, a testament to the enduring power of a mother's love.


Sunday, January 7, 2024

Enchanting Bali Escapade: A Journey to Tropical Serenity

Embarking on a solo journey to Bali wasn't just a vacation; it was an odyssey of self-discovery, cultural immersion, and boundless exploration. As a solo traveler, every moment became an opportunity to delve into the intricacies of this enchanting island. From the vibrant markets of Ubud to the serene beaches of Nusa Penida, each location unfolded its unique story.

Solo travel, contrary to popular belief, is not about solitude; it's a gateway to forging connections that transcend borders. In Bali, I found myself seamlessly woven into the vibrant tapestry of diverse cultures. Engaging with locals and in their daily rituals and celebrations opened my eyes to the richness of Balinese traditions, a depth of understanding I might have missed in a group setting. Talking to global tourists , battling challenges at the ATMs created a feeling of bonding in a new country. 

Navigating the island solo also meant navigating the labyrinth of self-discovery. The quiet moments spent in contemplation amidst the terraced rice fields or during a sunrise view from my hotel room were revelations that resonated deep within. Solo travel is a dialogue with oneself, a chance to confront fears, embrace uncertainties, and emerge stronger.

The beauty of traveling alone lies in the serendipity of human connections. Whether sharing stories with fellow travelers at a cozy warung (roadside stalls) or joining a spontaneous beach bonfire, I discovered the magic of instant friendships. Solo travel is a catalyst for building connections that transcend the transient nature of a holiday, leaving indelible marks on the journey.

Moreover, the autonomy of solo travel fueled a hunger for knowledge. My carefully planned itinerary gave me ample opportunities to savor each moment that i enjoyed and discard another the moment I realized i did not like it.  I am not a trekker and I skipped those that involved steep steps. This meant I got more time to be in spots I loved to be.  Every encounter became an opportunity to expand my cultural lexicon, transforming the trip into an educational odyssey.

The trip transcended beyond a mere holiday; it was a transformative experience. The freedom to explore, connect, and learn not only enriched my understanding of this tropical paradise but also left an indelible imprint on my own journey of self-discovery.

My Itinerary included 3 days in Denpasar, 2 nights in Kuta and 1 night in Ubud. Having experienced this,  I highly recommend 3 nights in Kuta (highly recommend where i stayed... The Kana) and 3 nights in Ubud (Seres Spring Spa).  Both places are a delight. 30 minutes away from main market areas. Best breakfast and easy accessibility of ATMs and GRAB (that's an app which is equivalent to our Uber and swiggy).  I would slip Denpasar for stay and suggest you visit one of the beaches for sunset and lovely vibes. I was at Teba Cafe, their sea food was world class. All links shared below. 

What not to do;
1. Choosing Inna Bali Heritage Hotel for stay... it's really ancient Heritage structure... please avoid 
2. Don't forget an umbrella...helpful in heat as well as rain. Bali is hot throughout the year.. 
3. Don't pack any fancy stuff...shorts n cotton tops
.and BIG tube of Sunscreen is all that you need
4. Take little Indian food like Theplas... you may crave for it. 

Some pictures.....

Thursday, November 23, 2023

The Rollercoaster of Perils and Thrills

In the vast and ever-evolving landscape of modern romance, dating apps stand out as both the saviors and pranksters of Cupid's realm. While matrimonial sites are still playing matchmaker for Auntie Ji's distant cousin's nephew, the younger generation has taken matters into their own hands, quite literally, with a swift right swipe.

Enter Bumble, the app where women make the first move – a revolutionary concept in a world where decisive decisions are usually left to the toss of a coin. It's like a virtual dance floor where the ladies choose their partners, and the guys nervously wait for the music to start. It's a thrilling game of 'who blinks first,' and the prize is the possibility of a connection that might just lead to something more.

Tinder, on the other hand, is the wild, wild west of dating apps. It's a place where bios are short, intentions are vague, and the only requirement is a strong thumb for endless swiping. It's the app that brought the term 'swipe right for yes, swipe left for no' into the dating lexicon. With a seemingly infinite pool of potential matches, Tinder is a buffet of options where everyone's a potential catch until proven otherwise.


Now, let's talk about Aisle – the app for those who prefer their love stories served with a side of sophistication. No swiping here; it's all about making a choice after some thoughtful consideration. It's like entering a quaint bookstore where you explore the titles, read a few synopsis, and then decide which story you want to dive into. Aisle users are not in a rush; they appreciate the slow burn of a good connection.


And then there's Happn – the app that turns your daily commute into a potential romantic encounter. It's the serendipity of meeting someone whose path you've crossed, quite literally. A missed connection becomes a second chance as Happn tracks your encounters and gives you the opportunity to turn that 'what if' into a 'maybe.' It's like a romantic comedy set in the real world, with your favorite coffee shop or subway station playing a supporting role in your love story.


Now, let's take a moment to appreciate the stark contrast with matrimonial sites – the virtual meeting ground for anxious parents armed with bio-data and a checklist longer than the Great Wall of China. 

While youngsters are busy swiping right, old parents are navigating the maze of traditional matchmaking. It's a world where compatibility isn't determined by shared interests and witty banter but by horoscopes, family background, and the number of weddings attended in the past year.

In this chaotic dance of love and companionship, dating apps offer a unique blend of perils and thrills. The perils? Well, the occasional awkward encounter, the ghosting phenomenon, and the undeniable pressure of crafting the perfect bio that encapsulates your entire existence in 300 characters. The thrills? The anticipation of a new match, the excitement of a potential connection, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something beautiful.


So here's to the digital age of romance, where swipes and super likes have become the currency of connection. In a world where love is just a tap away, may your matches be plenty, your conversations be intriguing, and your dating adventures be filled with both perils and thrills. Happy swiping!

Monday, April 22, 2019

A 6-Day Blank Page Agenda with Bhutan


Bhutan happened for me because of my friend Swapna who had been to Bhutan and she would not stop raving about the good times she had there. Plus, I got the contact details of a local guide through whom I prepared a customized plan for myself. I have never enjoyed group tours with fixed itineraries so I connected with the guide and made one for myself. It’s a little more expensive this way as the overheads are on you alone. But I had saved up for this and I opted for the customized plan. Thimpu - 1 night, Punakha- 1 night, Gangtey- 2 nights, Paro- 2 nights. You can add Bhumtang if you can spare 3 to 4 more days.

It’s a small country and you have a limited area to explore. It was up to me to choose which one to visit. I included more of free time and nature walks compared to the usual routine of visiting monasteries, treks and hikes. I like seclusion, soaking in the nature and surroundings.  Bhutan is a trekkers paradise in case you love trekking. Hope you enjoy the blog.

Day 1:

The Bhutan Airlines flight that I boarded from Kolkotta landed 90 minutes later at Paro. I looked outside the window. Was I at an airport or did I land in the middle of the city? The aircraft came to a grinding halt and some time later the doors opened. Fresh cool air welcomed me and I took a deep breath. Just 20 steps away stood the airport building. A two floored white building with beautiful wooden carvings. The airport looked picturesque. I could not fathom if it was a drawing or if it was for real. The architecture bore testimony to a land of talented painters, weavers and architects.

I could have dragged my luggage out of the plane to the waiting car,it was that close. Instead, I and Sneha, my travel buddy stood there and soaked in the coolness and gulped in lungful of fresh sweet air. Far away, the snow laden mountains seemed stripped of all their snow but some still glistened in the hot sun, which for some reason seemed welcome and not hot. We walked a few steps to enter the airport and wait for our luggage. We got it exactly within 15 minutes of landing. And why not? There wasn't a fleet arriving into Bhutan at that hour of the day. I dragged my luggage from the conveyor belt and wheeled it through the exit gate. 


Kinley
Outside stood my long-haired guide – Kinley Tshering. He was dressed in ‘Gho’, the traditional Bhutanese dress for boys and men. It looked like a knee length gown with long sleeves folded at the base. Almost, all men I saw in Bhutan were dressed similarly. He draped me and Sneha with a long white satin scarf and welcomed us to his country. I moved towards my vehicle which was a comfortable Hyundai Santa Fe chauffeured by Rabgay (pronounced Rubgey) who just bowed his head in respect and I bowed back.
Rabgay

I presumed he did not understand English and thus did not speak to me. That was a delusion which I realized soon after. 

I settled myself comfortably in the car and off we went towards Thimpu, the capital city of Bhutan. Thus, began my journey – one of the most beautiful road travel I have ever done.
So I was in the car, and Kinley taught us the two essential words –
Kuzoozangpo La meaning Hello
Response is the same ;-). You just repeat it!  
And Kaadinchhey La – meaning thank you
I memorised the above and used in several times during my stay.

The never-ending roads winded up and down the hills as it took me from one place to the other. As per itinerary, I was to stay in Paro the last 2 nights of my trip, so we breezed out of Paro on way to Thimpu. We must have landed around 12pm at Paro – Bhutan is 30 minutes ahead of India. Kinley took us for lunch to a hotel where we I could not get Indian food. I opted for a grilled sandwich, french fries and sprite. Sneha felt nauseous and avoided any food. If you are prone to motion sickness, take all the precautions you may want to take. All through Bhutan the roads snake precariously up and down a few hills and valley.  

After lunch, we explored few places of interest which included the textile mills, art school, library, museums. Every place had an entry ticket and I chose to enter only a few of them. Sneha visited most of it. The Takin reserve is a must-see. One needs to trek on a moderately steep slope. I was breathless and the air tightened around my chest as I climbed up to the entry point. I decided not to go further up. That was a painful decision and I went through this pain twice again during the rest of my stay in Bhutan.

Driving through the valleys, I gazed out of the car. All I could see was deep valleys and gigantic hills. We stopped by a few places enroute and got down to click few pictures and admire the beauty. By 4pm, Kinley brought me to ‘Peaceful Resort’ for my overnight stay. Nice hotel, great amenities with 2 heaters in the room and 2 or 3 blankets, all imported from Ludhiana. Some were made from locally available Yak wool. 

Throughout my stay I enjoyed the low temperatures ranging from 5C to 12C. The best time to visit Bhutan is October to December. I was lucky to be here in April between the 1st and the 7thI heard The temperature rose drastically after I left. Weather is unpredictable in Bhutan, like in any other hilly regions. Rains, thunder storm, sudden drop in temperatures can be expected at any point of time. I kept checking my weather app while Kinley chuckled and said – this does not work in Bhutan. The mountains decide. I smiled back – though I trusted the app, in my next seven days, I had to acknowledge that he was right.

Kinley and Rabgay left for the day after arranging for our dinner. We went down around 7pm for dinner. It was an elaborate Bhutanese dinner. Cost us 550 Nu each. Total disaster – one thing fortunately common between me and my travel buddy was that we disliked Bhutanese cuisine. 

We pleaded with our hostess for some Indian food and she brought us some Rajma which helped us gulp down some rice.  I made a mental note to inform Kinley that we would like to have Indian/ continental meals for the rest of the trip.

I was not tired though I have been travelling the whole day. It was perhaps the weather that put me to sleep that night. 

Observations on Day 1:
Bhutanese are lovely kind-hearted people
Most of them have completed school and graduated (in Bhutan or East India) and can speak excellent English. Rabgay and Kinley loved English songs as much as they loved their local ones.
I did not like Bhutanese food; lessons learnt for me. I won’t elaborate but would like you to carry some basic snacks. Stock yourself with fruits bought locally (they are expensive but organic and tasty). Add biscuits. If you are someone who could adapt yourselves to the local cuisines of Japan, China, etc. you may not face a problem here.
Tip generously. Indian currency is accepted here and the 1 NU = 1 INR. The Bhutanese girls are very strong and can carry two heavy bags at same time, effortlessly going up and down the stairs. No lifts here. No hotel is more than 2 floors. Rooms are huge and space is never an issue here.
Never lose your temper here. If anything goes wrong, tell your guide, he will sort it out. The guides and drivers follow the guidelines laid down by the tourism industry seriously. They are bound to be respectful at all times and maintain professionalism during their duty hours.
No one honks here. They wait. They let pass.

Day 2:

I woke up to a beautiful morning, as usual, at 5am. And what do I do? Nothing – there is nothing you can do as a tourist at 5am. My body clock refused to go back to sleep. I made some tea, the dip tea variety with powdered milk and missed my ‘adrak+lemongrass’ milky tea. And I missed it everytime I had tea in Bhutan. Made a mental note, to never ask for ‘localised version of life’ in my next trips. I seriously need Indian/continental food, western toilets with jet sprays. The locals may live differently and I realize on day 2 that I may have ‘issues’ with local lives, in case, they don’t match mine.

Thimpu is not so cold. I enjoyed the chill and withdrew the curtains to look at the neighbouring homes, not sure if they were hotels or homes. All structures looked the same – bright, colourful, intricate paintings of dragons, saints, flowers. If you look up from space, I guess Bhutan would look like a colourful painting dotted with high mountains and deep valleys. Vegetation, I noticed was sparse.
Kinley told me that Spring had just started and it will go green in some time but as most mountains were rocky, there were less chances of greenery on the slopes. Bhutan is rocky in a way yet a major portion of it covered by forests. According to Kinley, all the carbon dioxide produced by the country is sunk into these forests making it a carbon negative country and they have laws to preserve the forests which every Bhutanese follow with their heart. I kept gulping in pockets of fresh oxygen.


The room was heated but the washrooms were not. Using the washrooms needed one to be brave – to beat the chill. There is always a gap between the hot water and you – and trust me it makes you laugh in misery. I managed what my mother calls a “kaka-culi”. In Malayalam, it means a crow-bath. Sprinkle some water on your head, shake your body vigorously and you are done!!! I had many kak-culi’s during the rest of my trip.

I step out of my room into around 10 degrees…at first you feel the chill but then you want to enjoy it. I step a floor down to the banquet hall where am greeted by cheerful hosts. I had a continental breakfast of toast bread and butter and jam. And Lo and behold – I got Puri Bhaji too. I think I devoured 6 or 7 of those gigantic Puris. Total bliss. 

Then I set out to see more places of interest between Thimpu and Punakha where I would spend another night – this time it was a Farmhouse named Kinley farmhouse. I asked Kinley if it belonged to him and he said – every second person in Bhutan would be a Kinley as a result of a new born child being taken to the Fertility temple in Punakha. I will come to this story soon. Thimpu to Punakha is 2.5 hours and we visited a few places enroute.

The first place Kinley took me is to see the gigantic Buddha Dordenma Statue. 54 meters in height. They began building this is 2006 and finished it in 2015. I did not want to leave this place. The statue was tall, sitting calmly on a cliff and I managed to climb the slope with whatever less incline it had…thankfully. One can see it from any part of Thimpu. Its golden and beautiful and overlooks the entire country. I term it as heaven and I can stay here for the rest of my life (conditions apply).

Built for peace around the world, this statue also commemorates the 60th anniversary of their 4th king. Like I said earlier, the Bhutanese love their kings. The past, present and future. In every home, car, hotel, you will see family portraits of all kings with their families. These photographs are kept next to their own family photographs. The fourth king has four wives who are sisters. Polygamy is legal and all live peacefully. They have no Ramayana there. The current king’s mother is the third sister and the other three sisters have not hatched a plot to abdicate the current king – so far! 

After spending an hour, admiring the beauty of the structure plus the surroundings, Kinley suggested it was time to leave and so I had to leave reluctantly. Since we were one of the first visitors to come here, I could see hordes of tourist pouring in and I was glad I came early.



Next Kinley took me to Dochu-La Pass. In Bhutan all forts, monasteries, temples are built in memory of their kings, queens, religious saints, etc. Dochula pass has a similar story. Kinley would never tire of reciting these stories. Whenever we would reach a place, he would start with – “This is the …..it was built in memory of ……” and on and on he would go. Images of kings, queen mothers and gurus/saints can be seen in all monuments. At times, I would nod my head in acknowledgement to his stories but most times my mind would wander into the makings of these beautiful monuments.


It’s a must visit place and no one should miss it. The Saptagiri mountain peaks can be seen from here, though some of it were covered by clouds, and a few others glistened with snow. The temperature was around 12 and I chose not to wear my jacket. I soaked in the beautiful climate and reminded myself – this is what you came in here for. I wanted the world to stop moving. Freeze the moment for eternity. At the Dochula pass, I also got to see the mountain dogs, huge, furry, they roamed around with an air of authority…some basked in the sunlight. Lucky Bhutanese dogs….

Bhutan has never been colonised in history! A small country who could have been easily overpowered by the big countries surrounding it, this never happened to them. Ruled by kings since its origin, only in 2008 did the 4th king foresee the need to have a constitutional monarchy. I found the story as recited to me by Kinley very interesting though I am not fond of history. It's heartening to know that the monarchy would like to dilute his power by heralding in democracy. And in a rightful manner too. In a country where the citizens worship their kings and are skeptical of heralding in democracy the kings relentlessly educates them on the advantages of democracy. I have fallen in love with the 4th King and the current present king too. I was lucky to see one of the Queen mothers pass by during one of my road trips. The locals stood still and kept their heads bowed down in respect. So did I but kept my head slightly tilted to catch a glimpse of her.  I barely succeeded. 


After Dochula Pass, we drove to the Punakha. Punakha is one of the warmer places in Bhutan and temperature would be around 10 degrees late night and around 12 to 14 in day time. Kinley warned me that there would be no heaters in the Punakha home but assured me I won’t need one and he was right. I warned Kinley that I need to have lunch at a place offering Indian food. He was kind enough to find that for me. Post lunch as we continued on our journey and we passed by Punakha Dzong. Dzong means Fort and there are a few majestic Dzongs in Bhutan. This is the second largest Dzong, elegantly designed and currently the administrative centre in Punakha district. Even the 4th and 5th King got married in this Dzong . For me, this is the first time I saw something this royal. I could not wait for the next day when I would be inside the Dzong . This Dzong is built on the confluence of 2 rivers - The Po Chu and Mo Chu rivers.
These rivers flow into Punakha, converge with another river and finally flow into Assam, from where it flows into the Brahmaputra. Chu meant river and Po stood for father and Mo stood for Mother. I asked Kinley– how do you define the gender of a river? Kinley explained – the Po Chu is wild and flows fiercely and Mo Chu is calm and flows gently. True or False – I loved his version. In fact. I loved all of his stories. There is also a suspension bridge here that’s a must visit.

We continued our journey. Kinley was a chatterbox and continuously kept talking about something related with Bhutan. At times, we listened to music. At times, I tried to pry a few words out from Rabgay. Rabgay spoke less but he spoke excellent English. I understood from him that he is both a driver and a guide. On my trip, he was a driver but in the next one he was the guide and he would have another driver to assist him. The gho he was wearing costed something around 7000 Nu. According to him, the quality of the textiles used to make the gho determines the price of the gho. So, one can find different price ranges for this national attire. If you choose a low priced gho, one would mistake you as belonging to a poor family so most of them choose the ghos to keep with their image in the society. Imagine us, wearing discounted tops for INR 199????? Very low class, are you?

Finally, I reached the Kinley Farmhouse. Nestled between several other similar cottages, there were fields where the villagers were tending to the plants. Since it was spring, the plants had just begun to sprung but we did see some patches of cabbage, radish, potatoes, etc. An old guy with a wrinkled but grinning face gestured all of us to enter the home. He was dressed in gho and it looked to be of a cheaper quality as compared to Rabgays. But this old chap was so rich in his heart. He was a warm, polite and an entertaining host. He knew a smattering of Hindi and told me  tales of his visit to Delhi when he was a youngster. He offered us tea and apologised for the absence of his wife who had gone to the market. I smiled at him and said – no problem Kaadhinchey La.

It was a two-floored cottage and my room was cosy. The mattresses were fluffy and as good as those you find in hotels. This was my first farmhouse stay and I would advise you to think of the pros and cons of staying in a farmhouse on your trip to Bhutan. In a hotel, you may find a cook who knows how to prepare continental or Indian food – in a farm house you will need to have Bhutanese food or prepare your own if they allow/ have ingredients. In a farmhouse, you may not find a room with an attached bath and if you are like me, you will consider it inconvenience number 1.

Plus points – loving people. You get to know about their lives, first-hand. It overshadowed my inconveniences. I loved talking to the family – where only the husband knew a smattering of Hindi. Gestures, dumb charades and smiles would reveal a lot and I got by with that. They offered us Ara – a local wine made in most homes. In Bhutan, everyone drinks Ara and everyone chews paan all the time. I had 2 drops of the Ara – it was strong, very strong and passed on the rest to the driver – Rabgay as Kinley was a teetotaller. 



They offered rice and cheese chilli paste for dinner but knowing that Indian dinner was available around the corner, I opted for Indian food. That night, again I had Indian food. Though I have mentioned I had Indian food, I must add that all of it tasted close to Indian. Just like sambhar made by the Gujratis where they add a little bit of sugar to delight their palate. So it was Bhutan style Indian food but I still preferred it over Bhutanese food. For all of you who are like me, picky about Indian food, you can survive or scrambled eggs, toast butter, biscuits and fruits. Their staple diet is rice (white and red both are available) and cheese chilli paste. The cheese, oil and butter had a different odour and this prevented me from embracing any of their dishes

Day 3 -



Next morning, when I stepped into their kitchen and offered to make French toast for all, the lady of the house seemed eager. I gestured for everything I needed and got all of it except for pepper. Image of pepper via google search did not help either as the lady of the house shook her head gesturing she did not know what it meant. 

Later I got Kinley to explain to her and she giggled and got pepper from the pantry. Language issues. We all had a hearty laugh and that morning I prepared French toast and scrambled eggs without pepper to all. The family had 5 children, ages ranging from 25 to 10. One of their elder son was working in Australia in the hotel industry. Three of the elder children were working in hotels as housekeeping and as tourist guides. Tourism is the largest income generator for these families and the average salary of most of them would be approximately 3 to 4 lakhs if they were working in Bhutan. Hence, a lot of youngsters have migrated in search of work abroad including India.

After breakfast, I went for a stroll in the village – of course with Kinley. The village was dotted by small shops selling artefacts, fabrics and some unmentionable things that were offerings of the fertility temple. I ignored the entire section though I took some pictures to show back home. 



From the other sections, I picked up various souvenirs. I also picked up a Bhutanese skirt the Kira – the national dress for women and girls. I had the option to shop in Paro which would be on my last day here but I so much fell in love with the kira here that I bought it then and there. 

Post that, I went back to the farmhouse, freshened up with my kaka-culi and paid a visit to the fertility temple. I won’t write another word about it because to me – it’s a temple for fools. Apologies in advance if I am hurting anyone’s religious sentiments. I also would like to mention that all homes in Punakha and most parts of Bhutan adorn the walls of their homes with paintings that symbolises the beliefs of the fertility temple. And it’s an extremely gory sight- amidst the beautiful colours and drawings - the fertility temple symbols standout like a thorny cactus – pun intended. 

After a brief stopover at the Fertility temple, it was time to check out Punakha Dzong. We drove back the same way we came and reached the Dzong. On way, we had Indian lunch. I bought my entry ticket – Kinley could enter for free. Kinley later told me that everyone has to wear the national dress which is the gho for men and kira for the women in every other office, school, hospital, everywhere. As groups of tourists accompanied by their guides entered the Dzong, I could see each group being told a story by their guide about the Dzong. Let your guide tell you the story for they infuse life in the characters they speak about. I term this place as a must see. If you see one Dzong, the other would be more or less similar so if you have to make a choice of seeing just 1 Dzong, don’t miss on Punakha Dzong– its majestically beautiful. This ended my tryst with Punakha and I proceeded to Gangtey - a U shaped glacial valley.

Gangtey Farmhouse

Its better known as the Phobjika valley and Gangtey is a small town in this district. The best time to visit this place is October, November and December. The black necked crane flocks here to roost and they even have a national festival to celebrate their visit. A photographer’s delight assure you visit Gangtey.

It was 5pm by the time I reached Gangtey. One cannot speed here because most of the roads are winding up and down, not all roads are concretised and they are not very wide either. I had again booked into a farmhouse and to my joy the farmhouse had an attached bath. I made sure Kinley checked that prior to my arrival. The farmhouse was all carved out of wood – top to bottom. I could not find metal anywhere except may be at the hinges of the door. It had 6 to 8 rooms but only my room was occupied. Some guests were expected the next day.

There was nothing much to do in Gangtey so I was not in a rush. I walked around a bit. I informed Kinley and went out for a long walk. I headed towards a group of teenage boys who were performing stunts on mountain bicycles and they seemed to be having fun. They would peddle the bike hard on a slope and pull the bike up on its rear end and slide back down. Scores of boys were repeatedly following the same process and laughing at their neat performances. A few of them tried to throw their friends off-balance. Some succeeded while most did not.

I could also see some resorts that offered accommodation in an open ground in huge white tents. A group of Europeans, about 50 of them had camped there. They were getting ready to go on a bike ride. On checking with them, I learnt they had come from Italy on an adventure trip that included hiking, biking, river rafting and difficult treks.  They then headed over to the boys to get onto to their bikes. It’s then that I realised that the boys were not having fun but were checking the bikes before handing it to the tourists.




As I walked further, I noticed I was following a path of running stream water, crystal clear water. I had noticed such stream all over Bhutan. At first, I thought it was drainage but the clarity of the water demonstrated it was not. I also noticed prayer wheels on the sides of roads and the water from these streams churned the prayer wheels continuously. Rabgay told me that these hydro prayer wheels are built by certain families or communities when their chief priests ask them to do so to ward off evil and bring in good luck for the entire family. The location is chosen by the priests and these are usually built across the length of these flowing streams.

After a long walk, I returned to the room. As the sun set, it became super chilly and I could not muster the courage to step out of the room.  

I peeped outside, it was beautiful. Grey clouds streaked with silver threatened to darken the skies. The vast landscape was dotted with small cottages. I wanted to stay out but the chill prevented me from doing that. Hot water was available round the clock and I managed to have a mini kaka-culi. It’s like a 1/10th version of a proper shower. I got inside the blankets – 3 blankets and enjoyed the cozy feeling. I called Kinley and asked him to tell the host that I would have dinner in my room and asked him to check the menu. That’s when he gave me the good news that they can serve rice and aloo sabji. I felt lucky and ordered the same. It did not taste like home food, but I survived. After dinner, I slept off like a baby.

Day 4

I woke up at 5am. My body clock refused to let me sleep even though I was on vacation. So, as usual, I tried to go back to sleep and failed miserably. Brushing my teeth at this hour looked like a task that required a lot of courage. I tested myself. I peeled off the first layer of the blanket, nothing happened, then the second, again nothing happened. Peeling off the last layer, my feet touched the wooden floor -ouch…it was chilly. I pulled my feet up and looked outside the window. It must have been 6am but it was as bright. I found my room slippers and walked towards the window.

A big black mountain dog was curled right below my window and was basking in the sunlight. An old lady was churning the huge wooden prayer wheel at a distance. I decided to get over my chill fear and go out into the brightly lit day. The washroom had no heater and was in deep freeze mode. I turned on the tap…..chilled water…I let it flow until  hot water streamed out of it. I brushed as quickly as I could and dressed in layers and a shawl covering my ears and head. I walked through the cold wooden corridors into the bright sunlight. The black dog looked up, scanned me for a while and soon realised I did not have anything for him and went back to sleep. I walked around. Walking made me feel warm. I stripped off the shawl and walked towards the dining area. New guests were coming. Two old Gujrati couples. We smiled at each other and I walked ahead. 
Bukhari
I saw the hostess and told her I want tea. She asked me to wait by the Bukhari which I thoroughly enjoyed. The dining room was warm and cosy and I soon got my cup of hot tea. Bukharis are like a large drum with a hole in the centre. It is usually placed in the centre of a room. In the centre, logs of wood burn bright orange and yellow flames. On top of the bukhari is a large vessel filled with hot water throughout the day. More logs are put into the bukhari and it burns bright enough to keep everyone in the room warm. People gather around the bukhari, chat and recount the day’s events. They drink hot water, tea or Ara while they do so.
                                                                                 
I had opted for a restful stay at Gangtey and that’s what was in my itinerary for the rest of the day.  After tea and interacting with the Gujrati couple, I learnt they had brought a lot of food stuff back from home – khakhra, sev, pickles, bhakris and theplas. They chose not to eat the hotel food because they saw the hostess boiling some eggs. They had tea and toast bread and butter. I had the same, plenty of it. I had to hold the butter near the bukhari for a while before I could spread it. Then I had scrambled eggs. Throughout my stay I was completely put off by the odour that this ruined my dining experience throughout. The butter looked like butter and the oil had Soyabean or Rice Bran written on it but it was ‘different’ in a manner I cant define.

After breakfast, I visited the Gangtey Monastery and Kinley described the story in detail. Kinley, being the excellent guide, kept going on and on about the history of the temple. I remember none of it though. Not my fault, as the names of the kings, queens and priests are quite difficult for a foreign national to comprehend. For those who like to hike/trek, there is a long winding path from this monastery. It takes about 2 to 3 hours to come to the other end of the trail. Sneha opted for the trail and off she went with Kinley. I and Rabgay drove 30 minutes around a cliff and waited for them on the other side. I had two hours to kill and I set out for along walk. Though I can’t claim to have seen all of Bhutan, Gantey is the most scenic. I explored the valley, stood by the side of the road and watched the locals go about their daily lives. Most of them walk a lot.


Homes are scattered far and wide and daily amenities needs to be stocked. It’s not only a primitive village (though everyone has internet and television) but in case of health emergencies, help would be at least an hour away. These are my assumptions as I did not see clinics, medical stores or hospitals all over the place. They were far away in the main townships. In the villages there would be one or two general shops and they have everything that is required locally. I saw grocery packets, confectionaries, clothes and sim cards being sold in the same shop.

 The valley is vast and dotted with pastures, hills and wooden cottages, big and small. Herds of Yak were grazing on these slopes. At times, I felt I was at the bottom of a cup rising my face to look up to the snow-clad mountains and at times I felt I was sitting on the rim of the cup and looking at the bottom of the valley. I could walk, stop, walk, sleep on the grass and have a blank page agenda for the day. That is what I term total bliss. A holiday with a blank page agenda.

I came back for lunch though I was not hungry due to the heavy breakfast. I again opted for dal and rice. I rested for a while and looked forward to a massage I had planned for later in the evening. Dinner was at a nearby Indian restaurant and I opted for Puri bhaji as that was the best thing I ate in Bhutan in the name of Indian food.
  
Day 5

Today was a long road drive back from Gangtey to Paro.  I would be traversing the entire path right back to Paro. It would take me 7 hours with all the stops I make along the way. For those who get bothered by motion sickness, this would be a challenge. Suggest you take the necessary medication, eat light and carry disposable pouches. I had a beautiful time as I crossed the Punakha Dzong and Dochula pass once again. I got down at Dochula pass for refreshments. Apart from the monuments and peaks you can see from here, I was in absolute love with the 30 odd dogs that roamed around here. They were huge and majestic and looked extremely fierce to me.
They did come to me for scraps and I shared some momos with them. Surprisingly, the dogs are also peaceful – they did not growl at each other for the scraps. Each one ate what they got and the rest just moved away.

By evening, I reached Paro and we made a halt in a lane which was about half a kilometre long. This seemed to be a shopper’s paradise and also had restaurants serving Indian food. I purchased yum looking croissants – unfortunately the odour hit me as it was warmed and I had to share it with the dogs. I lost my appetite and packed Idli sambhar for dinner. My stay again was in a farmhouse and I did not want to risk a Bhutanese dinner. I bought some souvenirs here for my friends back home.

Within a couple of hours, we realised staying here for 2 nights would be a pain. The hostess was aloof and was distracted in the service of an European couple. When a tourist (except for Indians, Bangladeshis and Sri Lankans) enters Bhutan, they have to spend a minimum amount of 250 dollars per day. My current hostess had an European guest and inevitably I was not so important to her. I checked with my tour operator for a transfer and she was kind enough to shift me into a hotel the next morning.

We woke up early because Sneha along with Kinley was trekking up to Tiger’s nest.  I was tempted to join her but I was not ready. With the breathing problems I faced during the journey, I did not want to be an obstacle in their trek. Tiger’s Nest has no Tigers.
Google out for more information but this is any trekkers dream route. An average trekker takes up to 7 hours. The earlier you start, the better. I and Rabgay dropped them at the base of the Tier’s Nest. We came back to the farmhouse and waited until 9 to shift to another hotel nearby – Deewanchen Resort. 

Deewanchen means peace and the resort was one of the most beautiful properties I stayed in. I would advise all of you to book into hotels and not farmhouses. Deewanchen had Indian food and they were ready to take my order of Chicken Biryani around 10. I was not expecting Sneha until 2pm and I asked the kitchen staff to deliver my food as soon as it was ready. I had not eaten well the previous night and I felt ravenous. I decided to shower – it was the same story everytime. Except for the water, anything you touch was super chilled. Somehow, I showered and got ready to eat.
It was around 11.30 and Sneha called saying she has reached the top and now was on her way back! Sneha was fast – she was better than an average trekker and that left both Kinley and Ragbay impressed. I called up the kitchen again and asked them to hold on to the Biryani. I ordered another lunch for Sneha and went to meet her at the base of Tiger’s Nest. She completed the trek in approximately 5 hours.

We both came back and the lunch was waiting. We ate our lunch in silence- I was hungry, Sneha was tired. Post lunch, Sneha rested while I went out onto the balcony which had a very beautiful view. Outside, it was chilly but I soaked it all in. It was my last day in Paro and I knew I will miss these were priceless moments. All I did in Bhutan was to immerse myself in the nature and weather.

Sneha slept off and I did not disturb her. I went out. As this was a resort, I could not meet any locals here. I went into the dining area where the bukhari was burning bright. Few people had crowded around the fire. I joined them. There were few Indians but the others were either from Europe of the USA. Along with their guides, they were discussing about their trek the next day. The guides were arranging for oxygen tanks for the trip and since Kinley had told me that mountaineering was banned in Bhutan I was puzzled. On questioning them, I learnt that they were going to go on the Laya Gasa Trek and though mountaineering is banned on peaks above 6000 meters, there are several smaller hills that can be trekked upon and is quiet daunting. 

The Bhutanese believe that their mountains are spiritual and it should not be tainted by allowing mountaineers or anyone else to climb and conquer them. Therefore, Gangkhar Puensum at 75740 meters has attained the title of the highest unclimbed peak in the world and will perhaps remain so forever.


 By the end of the trip, I was eager to get back home to my adrak waali chai and my curd rice and sambhar but I was equally dismayed to leave. The visa clearly mentioned 7th April exit Bhutan and that’s what I did.

Kinley and Rabgay promised to stay in touch and so did I. But we all know, we just move on. These two have been of great help while I was writing this blog. I texted them several times to get some facts I missed noting down. Hope each one of you loved reading this. You can add your comments in the comment section if you need more information for your intended trip to Bhutan.