Egypt, beyond the Nile, pyramids and Cleopatra!

I remember the great excitement when I landed in Cairo the first time. Foreign land, in an unfamiliar airport, yet bubbling with unbridled excitement knowing I was in the land of the most ancient civilization ready to discover history for the first time in my life (despite having a double passport book)!

The airport was not glitzy but my God the city certainly looked snazzy! Flyovers crisscrossing zanily a la New Yorkesque, people buzzing busily on the streets, traffic zooming in all directions and the ride to the hotel saw me absorb all the sights and sounds in gulps!

Egyptians pay a lot of attention to traffic laws...and I understand why, better now- because of the much dreaded police (worst symbol of the tyranny of the Regime) who are autocratic, wilful and powerful.

Cabbies crazily and stubbornly don’t move their hands off the horns, as they weave in & out of traffic. The people who ride in public buses instinctively know when to jump out of harm’s way and onto the streets. The buses always overloaded with people, with barely any standing room, sway from side to side making their way on a busy road. I felt completely at home. These scenes are just the same in India:) Egypt to this extent was not another world...but sure, another culture with codes of their own which one definitely respected.

Culturally, Egypt is a Muslim country. Even in the big cities (Cairo,Giza,Luxor, Alexandria) a woman should have a male companion with her when on the street. Ladies should have shoulders and upper arms covered, closed neck top, skirt below the knees, pants are ok, but ought to be loose. Modesty is the key word. I respected their culture and adhered to the codes.

As hot as Egypt is, the warmest things I saw were the smiles of the children – sometimes I so wish for a world made of only children. We would have no corruption nor politics

Love crosses cultural lines! Talking to Egyptians in a universal language (signs and symbols) was a wonderful experience. Walking through shopping streets I observed them as warm, loving parents with their children in the parks and malls. Speaking with foreigners I saw them flirt, guide, direct and converse intelligently. Cultural differences indeed vanish when people care! A positive environment is all that is needed.

The Nile River was just across the street from us, we took a cruise on the Nile. It is much larger than I had ever imagined. We met many young people who were out on a date, or accompanying their college/school for a picnic. Singing popular Egyptian songs set to rhythmic foot tapping beats ( a la Bollywood). As modern Egyptians lived their lives in a busy bustle, I also saw many people still living as they did many years ago. Fishing on the Nile for a livelihood (a la Kerala), washing off stream (a la Varanasi). Images of diverse India would flash past the mind, so often.

Did you know Egyptian influence is huge on French cuisine? Yep! An important influence of Egyptian cooking is the use of wine to soften meats and also to change the feel of vegetables. Many people think that it is part of French cuisine but actually wine has been in use by Egyptians in their cooking for many centuries. Bamya is a dish consisting of okra and meat which is made into stew. Though this is unique to the Egyptians, one can find this in French cuisine too. And omg the sweets/mithais of Egypt are to die for, those who have not read my older post < I have dedicated a post exclusively to Egyptian sweets (http://meetravels.blogspot.com/2008/12/have-food-will-travel.html)

The Cairo Museum: my first impressions of the beautiful landscaped gardens, an oasis of peace. And on the inside I do remember the mummies amongst a lot of other ancient treasures. Rooms full of mummies. And believe me, once you have seen one mummy, they all look alike:) But yesterday when I saw the museum on fire, my blood curdled and I wanted to shout and scream and run to save the museum! I felt sad for why would these pro- Mubarak protesters want to damage their own treasures? They have treasures that we don't have. Their history goes back into the sands of time...the times of the Pharaohs, the times of the ruling Queens, the time of Moses, the time when Joseph & Mary fled with young Jesus...Why would they want to destroy something that is their own? Do they even understand and respect their history?:(

Its surreal to see the unrest in Egypt. While I know and understand that the present day inhabitants of Egypt are not the indigenous people, I still feel a kindred spirit and very at home in Egypt. Many even thought I belonged to Egypt and spoke to me in Arabic! Regardless, whether they knew I was an Indian or a tourist I could see they generally wanted me to enjoy my stay in their country.

Fast forward to the unrest I see on TV, sure we are seeing one of the rarest of things -- a moment when the people lose their fear of the State, when, as the Chinese say, “the mandate of heaven has fallen” and it is only a matter of time before the old regime must yield. Revolutions are great fun during their early days. (Despite the violence, there is an extraordinary exhilaration to them) Then food runs short, there is disorder, travel is disrupted, the economy grinds to a halt, and there is a longing for a return to a sense of order.

It is one thing for the people of a country to reject a leader. It is another thing entirely for a foreign nation to invade, particularly under false pretenses. The USA has been meddling in Egyptian business by supporting Mubarak for 30+years. Suddenly pushing him to acknowledge the will of his people is meddling? To be honest, I think that Egyptians probably understand more about freedom and democracy than Americans do, since it has been Egyptians who have been suffering under a dictatorship and right now it is Egyptians who are fighting and dying in the streets for their freedom
It blows my mind that USA gets away by saying Egyptians only know Sharia Law and Theocracy. Umm, no, Egypt has been under a secular dictatorship. They know nothing except US-backed secular tyranny. Still, the fact that they are fighting valiantly for freedom and democracy gives me hope that they will indeed get their freedom and will cherish it. They will come to value it more than most Americans, I’m guessing.
Unlike other nations in the region, Egyptians are not aggressive; Cairo’s foreign policy itself is built on the very fact that its diplomats are often at the forefront of goodwill missions, engaged in peace conferences or acting as mediators in long-standing conflicts.

And finally on a very personal note: When I came back home to India I saw a sign that captured the source of my "energy" during my Egyptian adventure. The sign said, "What you are is God's gift to you. What you do with your life is your gift to God!" For me, Egypt was an environment for imbibing, learning, discovering. I am immensely proud of that. Cross cultures do touch lives in amazing, positive ways! I hope and pray for peace to once again bring sunshine to the Egyptian lives soon.

The warmth of Jodhpur

Bishnoi (Rajasthan India)

If I had gone back to the Thar desert with a production / filming crew then I’d probably have stayed in a real village and unearthed genuine gems. Not to say Bishnoi is not a real village, they try very hard to portray the real life in a hamlet. But because this particular village was so focused on tourism I missed the earthiness. Am glad the other 39Bishnoi villages in India go about their daily lives without attracting the tourists! I was so not impressed by the number of tourists that were loitering about in this village as if strolling in their very own backyard. I was glad I was here just for the day.

The huts are a piece of art. Beautifully decorated with hand drawings on the exterior walls, old kitchen utensils hung over the clay oven fireplace adding another dimension of yore. Clean and nicely spread out, the walkabout had me reflecting over the shyness I witnessed from the women living inside the huts. They rarely stepped out in front of strangers, would curiously peek thru their fairy sized windows. I attempted to talk to them, they’d giggle and hide behind the clay walls but never afforded me answer.

In 1730 CE, 363 women had their heads cut off as the first "tree huggers" in recorded history. Bishnoi means the number 29 in Hindi, referring to the 29 principles by which their caste as farmers ethically conducts itself. Two of the rules require that each caste member is compelled to care for trees; the other is that they care for all animals. In 1730 the then Maharaja Abhay Singh, ruler of Jodhpur sent out his woodsmen to cut down trees to feed the palace fires. They arrived on Bishnoi lands with the intent on cutting down their trees. One by one the women of the village sat at the foot of a tree and wrapped her body and arms around the tree trunks. When the Maharaja was informed of this he instructed his troops to cut off their heads if they did not get out of the way; hence the massacre. The first head to roll was that of Amrita Devi; her martyrdom set the example for the remaining 362 women who were to die that day.

Only afterwards, apparently in a fit of guilt, did the Maharaja apologize and decree that forevermore trees on Bishnoi lands would remain safe. I goggled this for better understanding and I was glad to see that the Bishnoi sacrifice of the past is remembered and has become a part of a modern day movement to protect trees (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chipko_movement).

Bishnoi is the one place where opium is legit. The ritual of making opium tea is a practice of the community that goes back a thousand years. It is used on ceremonial occasions and maybe a little in the morning and evening. Opium use is against the law in India; but in yet another of our wonderful contradictions, an exception is made for a number of castes in Rajasthan where tradition trumps law. I happily had a little of this elixir and understand its addiction.

As part of the Bishnoi safari, we also visited a local potter who learned his skills as the hereditary function of his caste. He explained that all his forefathers were potters as would be his son. The pottery is still done in the traditional way. Clay is thrown onto a 100 kg wheel which is pivoted at the center and spun, using a stick, to a high speed. The weight of the wheel maintains the momentum required to turn several pieces from a single large piece of clay. I was privileged to be invited by them to try my hand at the wheel and was thrilled to bits that my first attempt turned out rather well or perhaps it was beginners luck:) I was so enamored by my own creation and can appreciate how Dali or Bresson would have felt with their creations!

On reaching the hotel I carefully wrapped this pot to ensure its safe journey homewards. The bubble burst when I opened the packet on reaching home and saw the shattered pieces of mud lying inside the wrappings. Damn Jet airways!

Christmas sweets and cakes

Christmas in Malaysia

Madurai, India - Meenakshi Temple

Madurai is a temple town, with scores of temples. But the only one for me was the Meenakshi temple. A significant temple, not merely for its sheer architectural magnificence, but also for the fact that my parents were so inspired by this gorgeous colorful abode of the Goddess Meenakshi (Parvati), they decided to name their first born after her

Meenakshi also means the eye of a fish which is beautiful indeed. But a vegetarian like me would never understand the true potential of this meaning:)

This spectacular temple Meenakshi is adorned with gopurams (dome like structures), huge gateways of space, pillared hallways and a Sanctum Sanctorum. The etching on stone within, the mastery of art and craft on its exterior leaves one breathless, wondering how on earth this marvel was created.

The surface is a pulsating mass of masonry, covered all over with figures of deities, their incarnations and semi-divine characters freely drawn and painted from the inexhaustible treasure-house of Hindu mythology. I could stand and stare for hours together absorbing the various tales. Or happily shoot pictures day after day for the innumerable discoveries the artistry of the temple affords.

The divine marriage of Goddess Meenakshi is the most important festival celebrated in the month of April/May every year for 12days. This wedding festival of Goddess Meenakshi and Lord Sundareshwar, for the onlooker is a feast of reverence and inspiration.

Since dawn the garland-makers get supremely busy, busloads of pilgrims roll in with their faces dusted with tamarind powder to keep cool, the hot morning certainly requires one to dig in ones heels and not lose one’s own cool.

At about 9.55am, the conch's are blown announcing the wedding inside the vast temple, to a guest list running into 1000’s of people. The temple courtyard is a vibrant sea of silk and cotton saris and garlanded hair with jasmine. Bare-chested men wave huge peacock fans, picking their way through the seated throng. The proceedings are shown on cctv’s in the courtyard while an ear-splitting commentary in Tamil details, at maximum volume, the history, myths and miracles of the day's events.

The stage is set, the deities arrive and at the most crucial moment the cctv konks out. A noisy response from the crowd quickly restores vision just as the priest ties the mangalsutra around the idol of the goddess and the celestial marriage is "consummated" behind a silken sheet. The women, orange strings at the ready, knot them around their necks, fervently wishing for marital happiness and peaceful homes during the coming year.

I feel hugely blessed to have witnessed this celestial wedding, and feel equally blessed knowing the Goddess is showering her blessings every second on her namesake:)

A sea side town Mahabalipuram - South India

The city of Mahabalipuram is famous for its seashore which has an interesting group of ancient rock temples displaying the Dravidian style of architecture. The shore temples give a more ancient look and feel, older than they actually are, perhaps because of the wear and tear caused by the sea and brine.

This coastal town - is hot, humid round the year, but a treat to the eyes, mind and the shopper in you. If you are looking for a great photography expedition this is the place to get picture perfect shots. The shopper in you can revel in the multitude carvings and statutes. The main road is dotted with tiny tiny shops in a long row on either side of the road offering antiques in wood, stone and clay. Some pieces I came upon were truly heart stopping stunning! And indeed bought some too. Splendid sculptures. Beautiful statues made of granite stones. Handicrafts made of soapstone, sea-shell articles and jewelry to pine for. One needs time to explore, mull and decide on what one must buy. Time was a luxury I did not have this trip unfortunately.

It was during the rule of the Pallavas, many poets, dramatists, artists, artisans, scholars and saints emerged making the Pallavas the pioneers of new styles both in art and architecture. These creative energies reside to date in this small temple town especially when you see the multitude paintings on sale.

The spectacular beach of Mahabalipuram attracts thousands of tourists all through the year. The beach forever is crowded and packed with families literally lined shoulder to shoulder along the shores in their daily clothes as they wait for the water to rush up their legs while others escape the waves only to return for another bout. Either way, there is no end to the laughter as the sun sets and the ebb and flow draws nearer, it takes with it the memories of those who had enjoyed it as they part ways. There are other things to do while in Mahabs - a crocodile farm, snake venom extracting center, a school of art and sculpture, the annual dance festival among the many attractions for the tourists and travelers alongside the beach. Not surprising hence why tourists flock to Mahabs.

I was equally amazed to discover this place being a popular dating destination for many lovebirds. Most of them were in their private world of love and passion in corners, behind the rocks, in the trenches, and inside the caves declaring their undying commitment for each other. One such couple even approached me to take a picture of theirs on their mobile camera phone-while they melted into each others eyes.

The combination of beach and rocks AND the awesome monolithic structures makes Mahabalipuram very special. A day is simply not enough to explore this historical site. A return journey hence becomes a must. Mahabalipuram is barely an hour from Chennai, very very doable .

Haridwar, India - Gateway to the abode of Gods

The topmost memories from Haridwar are of food and food smells. Small dinky places that dish up some delicious tasty food. The fare – simple and non fussy. “Heavenly food’ is an ingestible experience after all. I admit food took on a new meaning in this town of priests and saints and holiness and piety. Aloo poori, dal katchori-chutney, hot samosas-channa, bhatti ki roti with saag and achaar, aloo paranthas and dahi, hot jalaebis made in ghee, kheer-maal pooa dipped in sugar syrup-crispy and soft, hot pakoras of potato and cottage cheese - the feast was endless. Not once did any of us suffer from any tummy trouble. We gorged happily

There is much to do if you like to look at temples and tramp through the extensive alleys, checking out a mass of trinkets in Haridwar. For us the summer heat was unbearable so trudging out time was really mornings and evenings and afternoon time was for lazing, chatting, napping, reading and ipodding.

Haridwar is a mixture of religious pilgrims and industry. We met some people from Holland who were helping to set up a lathe machine at one of the factories. They had interesting stories to narrate of some of the places they had visited in India and how they attracted locals who wanted to buy dollars from them or sell gaanja or charas to them. They found the Hindi movies good time pass and enjoyed the local chai at the small shops

We stayed at a dharamshala –which was clean, hygienic and very hospitable. Dad used to donate money towards this place’s upkeep over the years so we decided to go check and trace this dharamshala and see for ourselves if the money donated was being put to good use. It was gratifying to see the place being run like clockwork – very welcoming to pilgrims from all over the country, providing clean comfortable rooms and facilities. We were very impressed by this very upscale dharamshala in white marble that shone and sparkled in the sunlight, where service was always with a smile and people had the time to chat and narrate interesting stories of the holy Ganga or of other visitors and their experiences. No food is allowed within the premises here, as a result keeps the 4 legged monkeys at bay

We also meet a pandit in Haridwar who owned archives of revelations in these large, leather bound books with pages and pages of Sanskrit script. The archives dated back to the 17th Century (thereabouts) and every time a member of our clan visited this pandit an entry was always made. Events such as births and deaths are also marked in these records. We too were requested by this saintly man to make some remarks - Dad obliged, in his brilliant handwriting. As a result we all too, are now, part of this documentation, recorded for posterity.


Evenings would see us at Har-ki-Pauri ghat - a transformed landscape from daytime- into this - magical spiritual experience – all set for the Ganga aarti. This experience cannot be missed under no circumstances. Haridwar visit would be a waste if Ganga aarti is not participated in. The feeling of being part of the aarti being performed, the chants, the temple bells, the dark river waters amidst which are little lit lamps surrounded by flowers floating gently in its wake, the hymns and the collective crowds all pulsating in one energy revering the goddess Ganges – all of this, is an enchanting experience of sound and colour. Breathtaking. Makes one marvel at our rich tradition and culture all over again.

Har Ki Pauri is believed to be the exit point of the Ganges from the mountains and entry into the plains. Also known as the Brahm Kund, this ghat was built by King Vikramaditya in memory of his brother Brithari who often meditated on the banks of the river Ganga. History records an imprint of Lord Vishnu’s foot on one of the stones present on the ghat, which is indicative of the name.

At Haridwar, the mighty daughter of the mountains becomes the mother of the land – Ganga Ma

Glorious drive: The Sahyadri roads

Bombay Nasik Highway

Here we are, on an absolutely gorgeous monsoon morning in our pride of possession the 4x4 Black beast (beauteous tho I admit) armed with Coffee Bean take aways thinking about absolutely nothing, music streaming from the radio adding to the light happy feeling. Wonder what triggers the brain to become obsessed about some certain songs, you can’t stop humming it, or thinking about it, or playing it or singing it.

Just yesterday I got soaked to the skin standing under a tree, watching the rain fall for a while. After my initial bothered state I actually felt very nice. Standing there and observing the world slow down. With so much digging happening in the city I saw some workmen duck into the dug pit, open their classic black umbrellas to protect themselves from the rain water. I stood there under a large peepal tree amused by how different people react to a typical ‘Under A Mumbai Sky’ shower. It felt strangely magical and very unique. And there was music streaming from a nearby chai shop reminding me once again of how closely woven is an Indians relationship with the cinemas

OK back to this highway journey: through the flat plains, the ghats and the mountains. When the monsoon rain lashes the open highways, it has a kind of fresh and fragrant beauty that makes you wish that you had been a poet and not some lowly blogger. In the rains, the roads and the ghats burst into myriad shades of green that can be glimpsed through gray and white clouds that drift through the valley. As the clouds and the mist clear just long enough for you to catch a glimpse of a dense green paradise the wind whips more rain that stings your face, in this case the Black beast’s body.

Bombay, its trains, its traffic choked roads, the muck- all vanishes and you know you are probably as close to heaven as you'll ever get to in this life.

The drive is beautiful. Once you cross Bombay make your way through small towns and villages you start anticipating a treat. The road is bordered by rice fields on either side and then sugarcane ahead, occasionally a brisk brook runs parallel to the road you are driving along, to suddenly vanish and give way to lush green that begs to be captured in the mind. Red tiled traditional homes are visible through the bamboo thickets. It is the kind of drive that prompts you to go easy on the accelerator and drink it all in with your eyes and soul. We switched off the ac, rolled down those windows, and let the sights and the crisp fresh air work their magic on our senses. Till the rains lashed at us again

The wind velocity in the peaceful valleys here is an unforgettable experience. The far stretching mountain view is unique and the treescape outstanding. I read somewhere there is a semicircular spot overlooking the mountains offering a fascinating sight of a coin defying the law of gravity by swirling upward when flung into the air, because of high wind velocity. Puzzling? But true am told.

There's no need to ask for directions to Shirdi. The road from Bombay goes straight into the Ghats. Just at the base of the Ghats is a beautiful inn called Midtown Café- we always stop there to have hot breakfast (idlis /kande pohe). This sets us up for the journey ahead.

After the road takes an upward gradient and the rice fields gradually make way for the hills and ravines on either side, above the treetops you catch the first glimpse of the mountains and the waterfalls. The aerial view of the landscape below gets even more stunning. Before you know it, you are already abreast the first waterfall and the first crowd of revelers soaking up all the water they can. We did a complete 180 degree turn inside the car to capture the scenery but it had swooshed past too quickly. The waterfalls cascade down on the road itself. Many people stop their car to get out, soak for a bit and then make their way to the edge of the road to see the water disappearing down into the deep valley below. The dangerous part is there are some who think this highway is a picnic spot - so they open a couple of beers and then leave the cans / bottles strewn around:(

A gust of wind brings thick rolling clouds into the valley and all around you. For the next 10-15 minutes it is as dark as early evening. Visibility is reduced to a few feet. The wind eventually carries the clouds away till once again we can see the green forests in the valleys and the mountain peaks. In the distance you see a new batch of clouds entering the valley to soon envelop you with more rain. On a good day, the highway plays this kind of a game over and over and you never tire of it.

From an environment perspective these topographies and its jungles, waterfalls, the green carpet on either sides of the highway provide the excitement of adventure. The well preserved forest and plains form our jungle wealth where a variety of birds and animals flourish in peace and security. Experiencing nature in its full glory, appreciating what we have today is a joy, let’s ensure we safe guard it and leave it intact for generations ahead. The great outdoors showed us the wonders of nature to take back memories of awe, magic, purity, even fear as nature is so over whelming when it shrouds you in its mist when you cannot see much beyond. You know then, what fury nature can cause, if havoc is what it intends. Let’s respect what we have. And maintain Harmony.


PS: Today's incessant rains made it urgent for me, to write this post. Am sorry I have no pics, the camera got rained out, and must be given for servicing

Simla a summer retreat hill station

Up in the mountains city
Rudy complexioned people
Crisp fresh cherry apples
Snow. Cold
Smoky breath because of the cold
Heaters and fire places
Monkey caps

I had all these romantic visions of Simla - and my learning started immediately on entering Simla –Impressive! The road starts to hug the mountain side and houses appear nestled far above and below the road. The traffic was terrible - it seems like there's only one main road for vehicles in and out. I soon discovered people call it ‘Shimla’ – they indeed are all rosy pinked cheeked people here- the children look delightful with their chubby red cheeks and one is very tempted to go up close and feel those rudy cheeks of the lil children on the street

Mall road in Shimla is "maal" road and is the so-called fashion street of Shimla. Everybody hangs out here- and I mean everybody. It’s a crowded street for shoppers, sellers, tourists, locals, lovers, grandparents and all. A happy buzzing place this main street of this colonial town. Mind you all this I am witnessing from afar. I have yet to venture into the crowds and am not sure am in Simla for that. The novelty of Simla's layout still excites me - the main area, a pedestrian-only road full of shops and eateries, is about 10 floors higher than the vehicle access to the city, connected by many lifts, stairways and steep lane-ways

The place we stayed in was an Oberoi property – Cecil, looked humble from the outside but is a haven inside. All wood and classy. The interiors echo of the Raj with modern day refinement – I instantly fell in love with this gorgeous place which was to be home for the next week.

This property dates back to 1884, so there is much history and stories to soak here which I did partake in most delightfully. The other great attraction for me was the delightful indoor heated swimming pool, steam and sauna facilities, fitness center and the spa. The stay got very promising indeed.

One late evening we went for a drive around Simla and landed at the Wildflower Hotel, one of the other grand Oberoi hotels. The hotel is perched on a hill with a lovely view, the hotel itself looked a bit like a Swiss chalet. We had a brief tour of the ground floor, including the massive child-size gingerbread house, and had hot chocolate and muffins in the warm lobby.

Besides soaking in the gorgeous Himalayas from the room, we went horse riding, played in the snow and got all mucky, walked in the ‘maal’ and shopped for curios. Also went to the ‘lakaddi market’ to see some beautiful hand crafted precious things. Overall preferred to stay in and around the hotel during the day and stepped out late at night when the world was sleeping to walk the streets in quiet; absorbing the peace surrounding us. My only ‘want’ was I wish we had come to Shimla in off peak season – summer sees plane loads of tourists thronging here for the cooler climes - it's easy to see why it's a popular place for everyone - the cool, refreshing air. And for us it was the clean, car-less streets that were good for a change. But perhaps the next trip will be better planned.