Sights

Travel in genes

November 16, 2017

Last year, my son, Siddharth, returned home after a month-long solo backpacking trip across Vietnam, Cambodia & Thailand. He stayed in hostels, made new friends of different nationalities on-the-go, and lived like a local. He has had some incredible experiences. He is turning out to be quite a travel freak. He plans to visit 100 countries over time.

My father was an adventurous young man and owned a BSA Bantam motorcycle in those days. He made routine trips outside of New Delhi on his bike. He was also an amateur but serious black and white photographer. Armed with a Rolleicord camera and a range of lenses and filters, he would scout for opportunities to click pictures. In the 1960s, he traveled across Europe and participated in several photography contests and some of his pictures made it to an Italian daily. He also traveled around India armed with a portable spool tape-recorder and recorded voices of friends and relatives, particularly children. He was a master story-teller and would delight us with his anecdotes, replete with humor.

My father encouraged me to travel. He would want to know how I planned to utilize my vacation. In his mind, travel was one wise way of utilizing available time. He believed that travel built skills such as leadership, self-confidence, adaptability, resourcefulness, money management and time management. I had caught the bug in college itself and used to go on tours and treks, including to the Himalayas. While many trips were in the company of friends, I quickly realized that my friends could not keep pace with my insatiable appetite for travel. I began travelling alone. After marriage, I realized that my wife, Jyothi, also shared my passion for travel and we have since become co-travelers exploring locations both at home and abroad.

Travel offers its trophies to the brave. Imagine being led into a Himalayan valley at 12700 ft.. Amidst clear mountain streams, The Valley of Flowers in Uttarakhand explodes with colorful wild flowers for as far as the eyes can see. A few hours later, I was getting soaked in devotion at the world’s highest gurudwara (Sikh place of worship), Hemkunt Sahib. Before entering the gurudwara, I went for the holy dip in the sarovar (holy pond). The sarovar was covered with a thin film of ice. I was unprepared for the dip but was warmly encouraged by fellow-pilgrims, making it easier to handle the difference in temperature. I gently cracked the ice with my open palm and entered the sarovar. Following the refreshing bath, I was savoring hot suji-ka-halwa (Indian dessert) at the langar (community kitchen)…sheer bliss!!

Many years ago, I traveled several hours in the company of sadhus (monks) on their way from Rishikesh to Badrinath, Uttarakhand, participating with them in their melodious bhajans (hymns) and persuasive debates. We have experienced adventure with complete strangers, committing to something as treacherous as a road trip to Bhutan with no idea of how long it takes. As darkness fell – I have never known darkness that dark, ours seemed to be the only vehicle on the snaky mountainous road for miles. We experienced genuine Indian hospitality at Lava-Lolay, an Indian village on the way to Bhutan, where a local family gave up their room to accommodate weary travelers like us. We have experienced similar hospitality in Meghalaya in the North East of India where we went to attend a dear friend’s wedding.

The sights and sounds that a traveler experiences stay etched in memory. I have a kaleidoscope of images – whether it is the tulips at the Keukenhof Gardens, the evening aarti (a Hindu religious ritual) on the banks of the Ganga at Haridwar, the crazy drive over sand dunes in the Dubai desert, the breath-taking view of the valley at Talnu, Himachal Pradesh, the leisurely walk through the elegant neighborhood at Sausalito in the US, the shaky winch ride crossing the Tirthan River at Goshaini, sauntering through the Christmas Fair at Edinburg, rotating the prayer wheels at Mcleodganj, the warm atmosphere in the crowded and noisy restaurants in Covent Street, London, the heavenly food at the dhaba (roadside eatery) with the Ganga flowing alongside at Haridwar, the exhilarating cable car ride over Mount Titlis, walking on white sand on a full moon night at the Rann of Kutch, Gujarat, the unlimited supply of gigantic pizzas at the pizzeria in Venice, staying in the middle of a vast paddy field at Hampi, visiting the famous museums in the US, watching royalty perform the Dussehra (Indian festival) rituals inside the Mysore palace, riding a train at 13600 ft. through the Alps to Jungfrau in Switzerland and the tight family hug at the peak to complete the picture. I could go on and on with these unforgettable experiences.

As in life, travel also comes with its risks. I have lost my wallet and personal belongings on more than one occasion. While in college, I had gone on a rash shopping spree in Rajasthan, miscalculating the need for money to settle the hotel bill and had to come up with very creative ideas to deal with the crisis on hand. I have landed late at night with family in a small town in North India where I had a confirmed reservation only to be turned away. The reason: a powerful politician and his cronies had taken over the entire hotel and pretty much the entire town for an all-India party meet. We ended up spending the night in an under-construction hotel run by a Chinese couple, the wooden scaffolding holding up the newly laid roofing – we lived to tell the tale. In Bangkok, I got lost in a residential area and no one around me spoke English. I struggled for over 2 hours to get back to the hotel, a distance of 20 minutes. In Paris, we were famished but struggled to identify anything vegetarian. On the other hand, we were losing precious calories, directing sign language at the counter- clerk who was completely impervious to any understanding – on the contrary, he seemed amused with our frantic efforts. In the US, several years ago, I was not allowed to board a bus owing to the color of my skin until an old lady fellow-traveler intervened. In the larger scheme of things, one learns to let go off such unpleasant incidents and forgive the people who caused them and move on. This habit comes in handy in life, as well.

In my view, travel is a life skill. As in life, while there is certainly a merit in planning, a seasoned traveler knows that things could turn out quite differently. Travelers learn to label uncertainty as adventure and adapt to changing circumstances. Seasoned travelers acquire certain portable skills that could be put to good use in life. For instance, travelers could develop a philosophical outlook to life. Travelers realize that, as in travel, one does not have full control over the steering wheel of life. I have experienced help coming from unexpected quarters and one learns to rely on the goodness in this world – there is an abundance of it and there will be. Travel teaches us that just as bad things come to an end, so do good ones – one needs to savor the experience, let go and move on to the next plan or to the next chapter of life. Working towards a new destination brings in a new excitement – the journey is often more important than the destination. One learns to enjoy the small joys that make up the journey, rather than wait for the destination milestones that are few and far between in travel, as in life.

Siddharth’s first ‘solo’ trip happened when he was in Grade VI in school – we packed him off on a two-week camp to Sitlaket, Uttarakhand. Like my father, I too believed in the merits of travel. He had a great time with over 100 children – all strangers. He made many friends and as soon as he returned home, he was already planning to attend their next camp at Tirthan Valley in Himachal Pradesh. He went for that camp in the following year. Seasoned travelers are always between trips. As one trip draws to a close, the next one is already being planned. My wife and I returned from Thirthahalli quite recently and are already planning an ambitious road trip from Bangalore to Leh next year, Siddharth plans to visit Jordan and Turkey pretty soon.

I don’t blame Siddharth. It is the genes, you know!

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