OUR NEW SCHOOL BUILDING
Huge, airy classrooms,
Awash with light.
A long, long green board,
Plenty of room to write.
Sliding windows and ventilators,
Breeze blowing in all day.
Happy children, a treat to see,
Fun and Frolic and Play.
Lush green trees, light blue skies
All around can see.
This, our new school building,
Eager & energetic makes one be.
Jyoti Honkote
Friday, August 6, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
“It was a fantastic experience.” I must have said this for the umteenth time. But it was no overstatement. It had indeed been out of this world. I would never, even in my wildest dreams, have imagined that I at the middle age of 46 climb 4000 feet of a rocky precipice, 2k of which would be a sharp 90 degree incline.
Around a month back, Sukanya’s friend Deven asked permission to take her on a trek. He assured that he would take good care of her. “I am quite a responsible person” he had said. I had looked at him sceptically. That very day this boy showed me how responsible he was by breaking the cement lid of my water tank. Hence when he brought up the topic again I asked whether I could go too. I registered my name and did not allow myself to think too much. I am one of those who never want to say ‘no’ to anything.
As evening advanced, my nervousness increased. First of I hated the clothing I had chosen for myself, then I couldn’t decide what to take for next days’ lunch. Anyway there was no backing out now. We boarded the bus to Murbad at 11.30 p.m. from National Park. On reaching at 2.30 a.m. we were told to make ourselves ‘comfortable’ on the long, hard seats at the bus stand. At 5.30a.m. the place started filling up with people. We had tea and bhajjias at a ‘Dhaba’ and left for Naravali village from where our trek would start. Here we were introduced to our organisers- the Giri-Vihang trekkers. We ladies were given a round of applause for being present in larger numbers than the 33% reservation quota. The huge mountain loomed above us –seemingly insurmountable and majestic. SIDHGAD was in the shape of the sideways view if our hand with the thumb pointing upwards. Now I just couldnt wait to set off.
Armed with only the bare neccesities of food and water, we started with enthusiasm. After sometime we came to a lovely stream. We had been warned not to waste too much time here and so against our wishes we had to stop splashing around and start once again. We walked and walked and walked. The path was all uphill and rocky.we met a few villagers too. Soon we started asking,” how much more?” We reached the plateau region at 12.30p.m. Being tired I really didn’t feel hungry. The important question to be answered at this point was, “Am I going to climb that steep section? Will I be able to do it? Wont I be a burden to the others?” I also knew that if I didn’t go I would curse myself forever. To have come so far and not go till the top would be akin to having an ice-cream in hand and not eating it. I decided to go and not think. I would take one step at a time.
STEEP! AND HOW MUCH? Knee length lush green grass grew everywhere. We could barely see any path. In fact at several places there was none. We just had to find footholds and handholds and climb. The scene was alluring. We could sit and gaze for hours and hours. Yet we weren’t allowed to do so as we had to climb. The professional trekkers had placed themselves at various intervals in the line so that they could help us amateurs. They gave excellent support. On several occasions they put themselves in danger while ensuring our safety. A slight drizzle had started and mist was gathering everywhere. It was pleasantly cool. Soon we could see only a few feet ahead. We had to be more cautious now since the path was wet. Little streams trickled down the mountain. We quenched our thirst and filled our bottles with the cool, crystal clear water.
Finally, after a two hour ascent we actually reached the top. The efforts of the amateurs was applauded. Contented, we just lay down in the high grass and took deep breaths of the rich air. We had a wall of thick white mist all around us. We searched through for the broken parts of the once spendid fort. People were clicking away, eager to record this historic event, this momentous occasion. As if to reward us and our efforts, suddenly the mist parted and revealed the superb scenery. Miles and miles of green, interspersed with a bit of brown. A winding silvery river and the best of all, white cauliflower shaped clouds at the far end of the horizon. We just couldn’t tear ourselves away. Our guides insisted that we had to start the climb down. We had a long and difficult descent ahead.
As had been done earlier, before we started, Goddess Bhawani was propitiated. This time Deven dedicated himself totally to ensuring that I descended properly. Even during the climb, he had been near me giving constant tips and encouragement. Our roles had reversed. He was the teacher and I was the child. “Right leg on this rock, left on this and take a grip at this point. Lean towards the mountain. Do this, don’t do that.” I was dirty, probably stinking yet he didn’t leave me for a second. Well, I did realise that he could be patient and responsible. My legs had tired out. The thighs were aching. A slight tremor had started. We were not allowed any rest on the plateau since it would soon become dark. Sukanya had carried the backpack throughout the trip in order to ensure that I faced no hassles. In spite of not being a regular trekker she had been at the front of the line throughout.
My knees had decided to give company to my thighs. The aches was unberable and the tremor had intensified. The descent was no more tough but now things were beyond my levels of endurance. It was becoming dark and my speed had reduced drastically. Everyone was overtaking me. I had persuaded Deven to go ahead long ago. I was walking like a zombie with only one thought – I cannot give up. I must reach the others soon. Somehow or another I managed to remain with the tail end of the group. Darkness descended like a cloud and suddenly we realised that we were lost. While searching for the right path we met Sukanya’s group. They had got lost twice since they had dilly-dallied at the stream. Fortunately after half an hour we were rescued. It was pitch dark in that area and I felt like a blind hog.Sukanya caught my armed and guided me along with our mobile light. At 9.15p.m. we finally reached our bus. We were too tired to even celebrate. All clambered aboard and we left immediately. “My legs!” I couldn’t move them. I couldn’t sleep.
We reached at half past midnight and had a long, hot bath to wash out the muck and grime. I had to take a pain killer to be able to sleep.
Around a month back, Sukanya’s friend Deven asked permission to take her on a trek. He assured that he would take good care of her. “I am quite a responsible person” he had said. I had looked at him sceptically. That very day this boy showed me how responsible he was by breaking the cement lid of my water tank. Hence when he brought up the topic again I asked whether I could go too. I registered my name and did not allow myself to think too much. I am one of those who never want to say ‘no’ to anything.
As evening advanced, my nervousness increased. First of I hated the clothing I had chosen for myself, then I couldn’t decide what to take for next days’ lunch. Anyway there was no backing out now. We boarded the bus to Murbad at 11.30 p.m. from National Park. On reaching at 2.30 a.m. we were told to make ourselves ‘comfortable’ on the long, hard seats at the bus stand. At 5.30a.m. the place started filling up with people. We had tea and bhajjias at a ‘Dhaba’ and left for Naravali village from where our trek would start. Here we were introduced to our organisers- the Giri-Vihang trekkers. We ladies were given a round of applause for being present in larger numbers than the 33% reservation quota. The huge mountain loomed above us –seemingly insurmountable and majestic. SIDHGAD was in the shape of the sideways view if our hand with the thumb pointing upwards. Now I just couldnt wait to set off.
Armed with only the bare neccesities of food and water, we started with enthusiasm. After sometime we came to a lovely stream. We had been warned not to waste too much time here and so against our wishes we had to stop splashing around and start once again. We walked and walked and walked. The path was all uphill and rocky.we met a few villagers too. Soon we started asking,” how much more?” We reached the plateau region at 12.30p.m. Being tired I really didn’t feel hungry. The important question to be answered at this point was, “Am I going to climb that steep section? Will I be able to do it? Wont I be a burden to the others?” I also knew that if I didn’t go I would curse myself forever. To have come so far and not go till the top would be akin to having an ice-cream in hand and not eating it. I decided to go and not think. I would take one step at a time.
STEEP! AND HOW MUCH? Knee length lush green grass grew everywhere. We could barely see any path. In fact at several places there was none. We just had to find footholds and handholds and climb. The scene was alluring. We could sit and gaze for hours and hours. Yet we weren’t allowed to do so as we had to climb. The professional trekkers had placed themselves at various intervals in the line so that they could help us amateurs. They gave excellent support. On several occasions they put themselves in danger while ensuring our safety. A slight drizzle had started and mist was gathering everywhere. It was pleasantly cool. Soon we could see only a few feet ahead. We had to be more cautious now since the path was wet. Little streams trickled down the mountain. We quenched our thirst and filled our bottles with the cool, crystal clear water.
Finally, after a two hour ascent we actually reached the top. The efforts of the amateurs was applauded. Contented, we just lay down in the high grass and took deep breaths of the rich air. We had a wall of thick white mist all around us. We searched through for the broken parts of the once spendid fort. People were clicking away, eager to record this historic event, this momentous occasion. As if to reward us and our efforts, suddenly the mist parted and revealed the superb scenery. Miles and miles of green, interspersed with a bit of brown. A winding silvery river and the best of all, white cauliflower shaped clouds at the far end of the horizon. We just couldn’t tear ourselves away. Our guides insisted that we had to start the climb down. We had a long and difficult descent ahead.
As had been done earlier, before we started, Goddess Bhawani was propitiated. This time Deven dedicated himself totally to ensuring that I descended properly. Even during the climb, he had been near me giving constant tips and encouragement. Our roles had reversed. He was the teacher and I was the child. “Right leg on this rock, left on this and take a grip at this point. Lean towards the mountain. Do this, don’t do that.” I was dirty, probably stinking yet he didn’t leave me for a second. Well, I did realise that he could be patient and responsible. My legs had tired out. The thighs were aching. A slight tremor had started. We were not allowed any rest on the plateau since it would soon become dark. Sukanya had carried the backpack throughout the trip in order to ensure that I faced no hassles. In spite of not being a regular trekker she had been at the front of the line throughout.
My knees had decided to give company to my thighs. The aches was unberable and the tremor had intensified. The descent was no more tough but now things were beyond my levels of endurance. It was becoming dark and my speed had reduced drastically. Everyone was overtaking me. I had persuaded Deven to go ahead long ago. I was walking like a zombie with only one thought – I cannot give up. I must reach the others soon. Somehow or another I managed to remain with the tail end of the group. Darkness descended like a cloud and suddenly we realised that we were lost. While searching for the right path we met Sukanya’s group. They had got lost twice since they had dilly-dallied at the stream. Fortunately after half an hour we were rescued. It was pitch dark in that area and I felt like a blind hog.Sukanya caught my armed and guided me along with our mobile light. At 9.15p.m. we finally reached our bus. We were too tired to even celebrate. All clambered aboard and we left immediately. “My legs!” I couldn’t move them. I couldn’t sleep.
We reached at half past midnight and had a long, hot bath to wash out the muck and grime. I had to take a pain killer to be able to sleep.
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