Reminiscence from the Levant: Part Sixteen – On the Royal highway.

There are two ways of going to Petra… one the Desert Highway, a new and modern road that snakes towards Petra through the deserts of Jordan. This route takes 4 hours and is frequented by a lot of public transport. Most of the tourists prefer this way to go to Petra. The other way, however is more picturesque and interesting… through the King's Highway. This route meanders through the dramatic canyons of Jordan… and sluggishly reaches Petra. It takes almost 7-8 hours to reach Petra from this route. Add a few more hours if one wants to have magnificent sights of Wadi Mujib, Kerak Castle and Wadi Kerak. Little transport plies on this road and most of the tourists, therefore, give it a miss.

The Bus that is organized by Hotel Mariam, runs only if there are three passengers- we had more than three… a Canadian guy, 2 German brothers, a New Zealand couple and I, an Indian. The driver was Jordanian and his assistant, Syrian. 6 nationalities.

The Canadian was on the road for last two months… having started his journey from Germany- visiting Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Syria, Lebanon on the way to Jordan… he planned to visit Israel after Jordan and then go to Egypt before flying back to Canada. While sharing his experiences, he told me that Turkey is perhaps the best place he has visited in the entire world… He had a tattoo in his shoulder- of the Tibetan chant "OM MANI PADME HUM"…. I was able to recognize it instantly… and that set us talking. He got this tattoo done, not in India or Nepal, but in Laos. He had never visited India.

The two German brothers had a severe language constraint… they hardly spoke to anybody else… yet they were so alike in appearance that one could make out that they were brothers.

The New Zealand couple was very friendly… especially the lady… they were perpetual backpackers… this was their 38th country of visit. They had visited India twice… in 2002 and 2006. And had very sweet memories of Munnar, a Kerala hill station.

The moment you have driven an hour, you realize that you are amidst a very special place… the Canyons are very dramatic, very beautiful…. And enticing. The bus stopped at a place… for us to have a look of the Canyon…. Far away we could see a few hamlets here and there… beckoning us… these were Bedouin hamlets… Over the years Canyoning has become a famous adventure sport in Jordan.

Wadi Mujib is called so because a water stream names Mujib, flows through it. It is not exactly a river… but a rift valley system. This stream empties itself in Dead Sea (So contrary to the popular perception…. Dead Sea does have two source of fresh water)… A few years ago, a Dam was built to regulate the flow of water through Wadi Mujib… and utilize its water. This had turned Wadi Mujib into a trickle. Canyoning is all about treading along this dry water stream bed (it is not so dry… at point it retains water where the stream is deep, so the person canyoning needs to wade through this stretch or sometimes even swim… these contrasting terrains, therefore, make Canyoning a very challenging sport). Later, ahead on the road one comes across the dam that has been built on the Mujib water stream.

Further down stream the dam one may see some indigenous efforts to conserve water… long ago Bedouins had constructed a series of small check dams to conserve water… now made redundant due to this mega dam. It reopened, within me, the debate between the utility of mega dams and small check dams. The debate goes beyond the utility or non-utility of dams… it touches upon the role of government and whether self governing communities are possible. Scrape a little; it boils down to the philosophy about human nature… was Hobbes right! Or was Rousseau right!! (Hobbes propounded the theory that an individual who is naturally competitive and violent… where as Rousseau propounded the theory that an individual loves to live in harmony… now according to the first theory, human needs a super-structure around himself to limit his selfishness… that is government and according to the other theory… humans should be left free… and that will ensure them as productive best.)

The next stop was Kerak Castle…. A Crusader castle… The Canadian guy with me told me that all Crusader Castle in this region were built in a similar fashion… Crusader Castles were generally dim-lit, stone vaulted and were so made that the distances between two castles could be covered within a night by horsemen. This ensured a steady stream of communication in midst of a hostile territory… most of these castles were constructed on raised grounds… and employed a beacon at the top of the castle, this beacon when lit meant that the castle was safe… and this beacon was observable from the surrounding castle and also Jerusalem. It made me wonder at the genius of Crusaders.

Kerak comes no where when compared to Krac… and yet it is an interesting castle… has a informative museum, that not only tells about the castle in particular but also a lot of aspects about the Castle making, Sieges, Castle warfare and armory and historical anecdotes related to it. In 1180, Saladin laid a impregnable seize upon the castle… that lasted 3 years… upon the surrender of the castle… and yet when in midst of seize, daughter of the castle chieftain was getting married, Saladin gave safe passage to the residents of the castle and the guests. Even wars have a code of ethics… and the most chivalrous stands them.

The Kerak town is pre-dominantly a Christian town. It occurred to me that even in Jordan; Christians tend to live in the highlands or the more challenging terrain, when compared to their Muslim counterpart. Beyond the Kerak town, one comes across another picturesque canyon, called Wadi Kerak… followed by Dana Valley…. Dana is a nature reserve… where Bedouins are living the same way they used to live more than 500 years ago, with minimal of development having touched their lifestyle. It can be a great sociological experience… I said. The views of Dana valley from the cliffs of the King's Highway were spectacular… In fact wherever we stopped during this 7 hour long journey… I couldn’t help gasping at the nature's beauty all around. It was worth every effort to see this spectacular royal road.

Further ahead, the road conditions improved dramatically…. Heralding the advent of Petra town.

Petra…. The place for which this entire journey was planned at the first place…

Reminiscence from the Levant: Part Fifteen – The magic of Madaba

Earlier in the day, I went to see the famous Madaba church… Madaba is a very gentle town… full of cresty-troughy roads and genuine warmth in the air… it strengthened my belief that if one has to come to Amman airport then Madaba should be the destination and not Amman.

Madaba has a vast history…. Starting, as Charles told me, from the Neolithic age. Though, today the town is famous for its Byzantine mosaics… and the famous Jerusalem Mosaic. The mosaic still lies on the floors of Saint George Church, the Greek Orthodox Church that holds a wonderful treasure of Madaba mosaics.

Pilgrims from all over the Levant used to throng at Madaba before going further towards the holy city of Jerusalem… to help them chart their journey… the Jerusalem mosaic was made in probably the 8-9th century, within the periphery of a grand Byzantine Church…. The mosaic represented the way to Jerusalem and the location of religious sites in the city of Jerusalem. But with the ravages of time… the Byzantine church perished… and gave way to ruins… long after that in the 19th century, the Greek Church was made at its place… and excavations revealed the Jerusalem mosaic again… the ancient art form was revived… and Madaba mosaics have achieved their rightful place in the world of arts.

The Madaba mosaic making technique uses a large variety of coloured pebbles to make beautiful portraits and maps and sceneries… it is different because of its riot of colours… and because of its religious significance. For instance, I had seen some mosaics in Alexandria (in the villa of birds) and also in Cyprus… but there the colour scheme was very limited and they were essentially used to decorate places, only.

The Madaba mosaics are to be seen to be believed… they are so beautiful so as to enliven the entire scenes of the life of Jesus… it is a beautiful experience to stand in the beautiful Saint George Church and look at the mosaics all around you.

Beyond the church, Madaba also has a nice museum… though I could not see it due to lack of time… but I had a nice walk around the town in the evening… t people are friendly…and warm… I met a group of children, who surrounded me and urged me to take their photographs… I obliged them… they were very happy to see themselves in my camera.

When I came back from the Dead Sea… Charles told me that my trip to Petra seems to be in jeopardy… the bus to Petra, through the King's Highway, operates only if there are three passengers for the trip and that the two who wanted to go with me… have backed out. He told me that in case the trip doesn’t materialize then I can go back to Jordan and proceed to Petra through the Desert Highway. I was shattered, for even though the route through the Desert highway was shorter, less time and money taking… yet it was bland and boring in comparison to the King's Highway…. That takes you through the picturesque valleys of the Jordan Rift Valley system… and only for this reason, I had booked the bus. Though I had one more thing troubling me.

Back in Damascus… at Hamiddiya Market- I purchased a lot of knick knacks… and it had made my backpack very heavy… I had devised a very good technique to counter this problem… I tend to carry a lot of old clothes that I keep on discarding on the way- this solves two purpose, one of course it unburdens you, two it gives me a mechanism to give my old clothes to needy people. This mechanism used to work flawlessly in India… and even in rural Egypt… but in Jordan, where the standard of living is very high… it was difficult to be implemented.

I, however, during the evening walk in the town cited a beggar (with difficulty, of course) and told him that I had some old clothes and that I would like to give it to them… he said that he will love to accept them… I rushed back to the hotel, to get all my old clothes- but by the time I went back to the place where he was sitting… he was gone. I was in a fix.

But on my way back to the hotel, I met another man in Galabiya (Arab gown often worn by the villagers and poor people), sitting along the road side… I asked him if he would like to accept the clothes… he nodded and I gave him the clothes… most of them were woolens (considering that Jordan has enough of winters… it was all the better for him)…. He was overwhelmed … and was confused when I thanked him for taking the clothes (for him it should have been the other way round, right.)…. Well!!! Funny are the ways of life.

When I came back to the hotel after the evening walk, Charles told me that I was lucky…. And four people have shown interest in the King's Highway tour for tomorrow… and that I was all set to proceed for the trip. I was much relieved.

The evening was spent in the swimming pool… it was very refreshing after last few days of wanderings… the swimming pool at Hotel Mariam was a small one, but very well lit and quite clean…. To get such a hotel for 30 odd US dollars in a country as expensive as Jordan was a luxury. According to my plans… the next few days… were going to be very basic for me… I anticipated roof-top sleeping in Petra… and dorms in Jerusalem if I go there, at all.

The next morning I had a sumptuous breakfast by the poolside… I tasted a local variety of honey… absolutely heavenly… I hadn’t tasted anything like that ever before…

A local Christian family had also come down to have breakfast… a little girl from the that family became very friendly to me… she started handing me over, everything her mother gave her to eat… It made me remember me of my son…

Madaba was one of the nicest places, I had visited…. It had to be forever etched in my mind….

Reminiscence from the Levant: Part Fourteen – Overlooking the Holy Land

By the time I reached Amman, it was one past midnight… my Iraqi driver helped me in searching my hotel… I had written an email to one Hotel Farah in Amman for booking a room for me… it was a backpacker's den… a few steps away from the Farah Hotel was a cinema theatre, whose walls were plastered with Indian movie posters… I found out that this cinema hall specialized in Mithun Chakraborty's and Amitabh Bachchan's film… and showed it once a week… the cinema theatre manager told me that Amman has a significant Pakistani diaspora that comes to see these films, once in a while. He told me that these movies used to be popular among Jordanians too; however the interest has since waned.

From the sixth floor of the hotel one gets wonderful views of the city of Amman… Amman is located on a uneven terrain… therefore the views of Amman city, especially in the night, when it is littered with lights… are beautiful. Though, as I realized in the morning… Amman is hardly a touristy city… there is absolutely nothing in Amman worth stopping for… there is an amphitheatre of Roman era… but it is too small and too insignificant, when compared with that of Palmyra, Jerash or Bosra.

Initially, I had planned going to Bosra and Jerash… but when I was in Palmyra… people told me to avoid Jerash altogether… as it was nothing but a pedestrianized version of Palmyra… that falls in Jordan and therefore promoted vigourously… People, however, told me different versions for Bosra- for some it is a place worth going… for its amphitheatre is not only grand but also made up of totally different type of stone; but for others Bosra was avoidable… they said that there is absolutely nothing but an amphitheatre in Bosra and as such Bosra falls so off the route that it takes an entire one day to see just Bosra…. I chose to stick to the second version.

When I started the journey- all I wanted to visit was Syria and Jordan…. But having deleted Bosra and Jerash from my itinerary, I was wondering if I can make it to Jerusalem… Well, going to Jerusalem was not easy… particularly because I had done absolutely no research about it… and my itinerary was such that I just couldn’t have avoided landing in Jerusalem on either Friday or Saturday, if I wanted to visit Jerusalem. The two worst days to visit the city.

The morning next, therefore, I pushed ahead to Madaba… Amman's twin town… in fact Madaba is closer to Amman airport than the Amman city… it has few very good hotels, and if one lands in Amman airport, it makes sense to proceed to Madaba instead of Amman. Madaba is a more convenient base to see Mount Nebo, Bethany or Dead Sea.

It is a small little town with a significant Christian population. Back in Amman, I saw that the Islamic veils are more common than they were in Syria… despite the image that Jordan is a liberal country and Syria a conservative (actually it is other way round). Somebody in Madaba told me that it is due to its proximity with Saudi… he told me that Saudi influence is getting stronger day by day in Jordan. The Jordanian society is becoming increasingly conservative with each passing day.

I checked into a beautiful hotel called Mariam- run by a local Christian family. It was the most comfortable place I stayed during my entire journey in the Levant. It had a wonderful swimming pool; well kept rooms… abundant sunlight… the atmosphere was very friendly and cheerful. And the person who managed it (one Charles) was one of the friendliest people, one may come across.

The moment I stepped in the Hotel, I switched on the Television… for the last few days- I had lost count of what was happening around the world- it was providential enough that the very first news that I saw on television was of Abdullah Gul coming to power in Turkey. The news was symbolic… I was in a region that was getting increasingly Islamized in a radical way…. The countries that once held a hope of a more liberal version of Islam are increasingly threatened- be it Egypt, be it Turkey, be it Syria, be it Lebanon, be it Jordan. Are we losing the battle?

I planned to visit Mount Nebo and Dead Sea, later in the day. Before that however I wanted to see the beautiful Greek Church of Madaba that is famous for its mosaics…. I booked a taxi for Mount Nebo and Dead Sea… I also booked a taxi for Petra through the King's Highway for the day next.

Mount Nebo is the final resting place of Prophet Moses… he was buried over here by God (according to the Jewish traditions). It was here he was shown the panorama of the "Promised Land" by God; he however could not reach the "Promised Land", himself… At the place a beautiful Byzantine church was constructed… much of it got destroyed… and is currently being excavated… the Church holds the oldest Madaba mosaics within its folds. It takes not more than half an hour to visit this place. The place is calm and serene and the church has a very calming influence… from the cliffs of Mount Nebo, one gets breath-taking views of the Promised Land, the Jordan River Valley…. The guide told me that on a clear night one can see the lights of Jerusalem city from the place. Just ahead of cliff is the Brazen Serpent monument; According to the Jewish tradition the Brazen Serpent was used by Prophet Moses for doing miracles to protect his followers.

Dead Sea is magical… for all these years, I had heard that Dead Sea is like this and Dead Sea is like that…. But one look at Dead Sea and you know it is a special place. The backdrop of Dead Sea… is one of the most beautiful scenes one may come across. Dead Sea has a calming effect… the entire ambience of the place is soothing… a water body located amidst one of the driest terrains in the world.

Dead Sea is hyper saline… this means that its water has an oily feel…. It is so salty that if you taste it, you do not feel any taste at all… just dryness in your throat… it is so salty that if you splash it in your eyes, you are blinded for almost ten minutes. The famous mud pack of Dead Sea is over-rated, but leaves you with a nice feeling on your skin.

I stayed back to see the sunset in the Dead Sea. It was ethereal.

Somebody told me that Dead Sea is shrinking rapidly… in last four years… the banks of the Dead Sea have shrunk by almost 10 meters.

Thoughts on leaving Cairo- Part One

A Part of me left this beautiful country…. The departure was painful not for the part that left Cairo, but for the part that is left back in Cairo…

My two year old son would not even realize that something is amiss… he will actually be happier… courted by his grandparents, doted by his cousins and loved by his uncles and aunts…. He will be happier for he will not encounter a father who is deluged by work and study… who is too stressed to regularly take him for an evening walk that he loved so much and waited with baited breath… he will be away from the multi-storeyed life of a megalopolis… that never gave him enough space to move around…. He will feel the magic of an open courtyard… the way I felt during my childhood, he will feel the magic of rains… of the pitter patter, of a chilly morning, of an abundant sun… of chirping birds on the guava tree that adorns my lawn… and yet I will miss this beautiful country for him.

I will miss him walking on the pavements of Zamalek… I will miss him seeing Spacetoon, I will miss him smiling at the sight of Mahmood my bawab who used to hug him as lovingly as he would have his son, I will miss him in the arms of Amit my colleague, who loved him as much as I did. I will miss his happy self, soaked by the fountains of Al Azhar garden…

My flat will feel something amiss, for it would be lifeless from now on… it wouldn’t understand why he is so well-managed, clean… it wouldn’t feel small footsteps that brought life to it.

Everybody would miss him… but he, for he is blissfully unaware… but still I know sometimes his ever-rushing steps will slow down to wonder… why my baba is not around.

Two wonderful books

Almost accidentally, I purchased these two books at Dubai International Airport…. To save myself from the boredom of waiting for my 7-hours delayed flight….

I had no inkling of what I was buying… or as to why I was spending almost 50 USD to buy these two books… the only thing bothering me was how to spend these hours of waiting… I hadn’t heard of them before this… hadn’t therefore, naturally, read any review about them… and still I bought them

As I have always said… serendipity is not all that serendipitous, it favours the brave… the two books turned out to be most gripping books I had ever read. I am still reading them, a few chapters many times over…. And will soon try a book review for them (my first, actually)

Just wanted to share this information, with whoever bothers to read my blog

1. Fergus Fleming's Cassel's Tales of Endurance- A delightful descriptions of path breaking voyages undertaken by the most prominent names in the realms of Traveling… from Marco Polo and Ibn Batuta and Christopher Columbus and Vasco Da Gama to David Livingstone and Robert Scott to Pandit Nain Singh (I can't help but feel amazed by my father's repertoire of information, he was the person who introduced me to the exploits of Nain Singh when I was barely in my teens…).

For those who are interested in the book, here is its link from Amazon

Cassel's Tales of Endurance

2. Martin Meredith's The State of Africa- A wonderful insight into the last fifty years of so of the political development in Africa… it is sad how little we know of Africa… to us Ghana is just a small country and not the cradle of Africa's political renaissance… it is sad that we often label Europe as a civilized continent… and turn a blind eye towards French cruelty in Algeria, British cruelty in East Africa and Belgian machinations in Congo… Only after reading this book did I realize how great a leader was Gamal Abdul Nasser… often ridiculed by western media for imposing a disastrous battle against Israel… and how great a leader was Ghana's Nkrumah (He, at least, deserved a Nobel Prize for his efforts towards African Political Renaissance, but strange are the ways of the world… Gandhiji was rejected many a times for this award… that has been pedestrianized in last few years…. Guess what!!! One of these days we may hear Kim Il Jong receiving this award for saving this world from a nuclear holocaust)

This book is the starting point for anybody who wants to learn more about Africa and its polity… and Africa is worth reading, for I most certainly believe that today's Africa is where Asia was in 1960s, and they are bound to rise if one engages them meaningfully (and not with the carrot and stick of client-state politics- I for instance rate Ethiopia, Angola, Libya and Ghana as potential model states besides Egypt, South Africa, Algeria and Nigeria). I still remember that Tony Blair once said that Africa was an scar on the conscience of the world.... we as a civilized world need to remove this scar

For those who are interested in this book, here is the link of its review from The Age

Review of The State of Africa

So happy reading…..

Reminiscence from the Levant: Part Thirteen – Crossing the border to reach Jordan

There is little public transport between Maloola and Sadanaya… sometimes on Sunday a few buses run from Maloola to Sadanaya… otherwise one has to book an entire bus for going to Sadanaya.

For any Christian family… going to either Sadanaya or Maloola is a family picnic too… so I saw that many families had booked an entire bus for a day trip to Maloola and then to Sadanaya… and then back to Damascus. I could have hitched on to one of these, if I had tried hard… but didn’t feel like being a gate-crasher… instead I decided to go back to Damascus… outside the church I entered a trinket shop and purchased some beautiful mementos.

By the time I got back to Damascus, it was three in the afternoon… during the ride I had almost decided that I will proceed to Amman and stay there for the night, before moving to Madaba. But upon reaching Devesh's house…. I started having two thoughts… I wondered why to leave this creature comfort and reach Amman in the morning, rather stay here at night and reach Amman in morning and then proceed to Madaba. In the hindsight… it would not have made much of a difference… though crossing the border in the dead of the night is a surreal experience.

There are two options of crossing over… either by a taxi or by a bus… bus even though cheaper is very slow… compared to the taxi… prefer a shared taxi. The taxi that I boarded was amusing… it was driven by an Iraqi driver. The four passengers were from four different nationalities- A middle aged Syrian, a young Yemeni who was visiting Damascus on a business trip, a Malaysian student who studied in Irbid… and then me- an Indian traveler. Five people, five nationalities… it doesn’t get better than this. You realize that Iraqis are light hearted guys who love to joke, Yemeni are often joked upon by others and yet they are the most sporting guys, Syrians are the very generous by nature and the Malaysians are very serious and no-nonsense guys but very concerned about others. I may be generalizing, but that is how they all behaved. It was a great observational exercise.

Crossing the border by land is an interesting exercise… in other modes of country-hopping the exit from country of departure and entry into the country of arrival, is often separated by a time gap… in land crossing it is not the case… you see a lot of interesting things… how trucks are lined up, how there is a no-man's zone, how things happen… how people carry so much stuff and how it is often pain in the neck for customs people to clear all of them. And experience it all.

Back in Palmyra, in the night when I was asleep in the hotel… I felt thirsty… and I did something ridiculous- drinking water directly from the tap… this folly started showing its effect while I was going towards Amman. I had a terrible stomach upset… so much so that the driver and the Syrian gentleman offered me to take to a doctor in Irbid and then proceed towards Amman.

Well those are two references of Irbid, now. Irbid is a border town in Jordan, famous for its educational institutions and a wonderful museum. It also serves as a base to explore the ruins of Pella and cross over to Israel from the Jordan River crossing. It is said that the nicest view of Jordan River is through this border crossing. Upstream the river is in the disputed areas of Golan Heights, and therefore out of bounds… and downstream it is sapped of its splendour- when successive dams take away most of its water for irrigation and other activities…. It is said that the future Palestinian state in West Bank will have only this river as a source of water… and because most of its water is taken away before it enters the Palestinian Territories, the fate of Jordan River is also a matter of dispute between Israel and Arabs. It is said that the only source of fresh water inlet to Dead Sea is this river (I believed so, but I discovered something else on my way to Petra through the King's Highway)… And because this stream has reduced to a trickle, Dead Sea is dying very fast. How fast is something I realized only when I reached the Dead Sea.

My wife had kept a few medicines for me in my bag… luckily I was able to locate them and took a medicine for stomach upset… it took me two full days to fight it out… I had often read travel guides advising that one should stick to bottled water, while traveling… but only now did I realize that it can get really bad if one does not follow the advice. Anyway, luckily this stomach upset hardly upsetted any of my plans… just that, I needed to be extra-cautious, going to lavatory just before venturing out of the hotel.

It was a strange feeling when I was leaving Syria… I had spent few of the best days of my life in this country… and perhaps I would not ever come back to Syria… but that is life… travelers should not get attached to a place, but aren’t travelers humans too. I wonder what it would feel like when I will leave Egypt, forever.

The Syrian border authorities were very nice this time… one of the officers asked me if I had a nice stay in Syria… I smiled and nodded. The border post had a huge poster of Bashar Al Asad, the Syrian President waving us good bye. (Syria is replete with his posters… big and larger than life… but every time I saw any of his posters, I thought –this man needs a better image manager… all his posters represent him in very animated and artificial poses… he is always alone and forlorn… adding to his dictatorial image… contrast him with Jordanian King who had carefully carved out a different image for himself… he is always seen in the posters with his family… thus adding to his benevolent image. Personally whenever I saw the face of Bashar Al Asad, he came across as a nice human being with a degree of innocence and benevolence…. Who would have loved to rule benevolently but for the historical baggage he inherited.)

A little ahead was a duty free shop, my driver bought two cartons of Benson and Hedges and hid it in every place possible… giving us two-three pack each to carry as personal wares… it seems that cigarettes are expensive in Jordan.A little ahead Jordan begun… the road got slightly better, street lights definitely better and then came a huge poster of King Abdullah II with his family… and his wife Queen Rania.

I was approaching the land of Queen Rania… whom I consider the epitome of feminine grace and strength… a very beautiful lady, Lady Diana of the Middle East. She also studied in American University in Cairo… so we share the Universities too. Over here people respect her; girls cite her name as a role model. So here I was in her land.

India trip report (12 October to 15 October)

Is this my own country?

My friends who hop around the world always warned me of this…. When you reach IGIA after a long haul abroad and after seeing the best in the world… the difference is stark and killing… and no amount of patriotic fervor is able to bridge that up…. You inevitably ask… why we can't be there, among the US, the Europe… why immigration treats you like shit, why everything needs to be this shabby…. Why, why and more whys

I couldn’t have helped myself… I asked the same questions… despite the fact that I was coming from Cairo, not Frankfurt or Heathrow… despite the fact, I was given special treatment at the immigration…

The moment I stepped out, I was greeted by a huge huge crowd of people waiting for their near and dear ones to arrive…. Some years back, I was one among them… now I am on the other side… but even then I used to wonder, why we have to come in hordes to bid adieu or receive anybody… be it railway station or the airport. The answer lied perhaps in our mentality that told us…if we are not there then may be we are sending the wrong message.

Waiting for the taxi despite having booked it, driving through the roads that never seem to get better… just worsen… filth all around… slums, shanties…it was enough to depress me. I had heard for last one and a half years, India is booming, infrastructure is changing, and Delhi is preparing itself for the Commonwealth games in 2010. I had something else in mind when I heard it all. It was not to be.

Stayed in Delhi for a day, same struggle to survive… things have worsened… prices have almost doubled, despite the fact that the inflation rate is under 10 percent. Did I learn mathematics or the Government has unlearnt it? The auto-rickshaw driver refusing to ply with the meter on, charging almost 1.5 times of the official rates… take it or go to hell…. I had heard the news of Blue Line crushing people to death…. But could sniff it, when I saw the bus coming to screeching halt near a pack of people, almost menacingly.

For my son, it was all amusing… he intently watch everything… everything was new for him…. From the rickety taxis and chauffeur driven Mercedes in Cairo to the golf cart running all over the Dubai airport to the green yellow auto, things were changing at a furious pace around him. And he was absorbing them all.

It was my son's birthday; we went to a temple in Malaviya nagar… a middle class locality in south Delhi. I was seeing Lord Shiva after 1.5 years…. It made me numb and happy. Later we went to a nearby Sagar Ratna restaurant, for a dinner. For exorbitant prices, the restaurant offered shabby service, poor food and still hordes of people were just streaming into the place…. Perhaps that’s the only way to spend their new found riches and perhaps they have resigned to this kind of product and service. We grumblingly ate everything from a hard idlis to the Punjabi version of Sambhar to the oil soaked Dosas. I hope no one new is subjected to this introduction to South Indian food.

I reached station just in time to catch my over night train for Allahabad. It was a train called Rewa express. The compartments and the seats of the train were all wet; disinterestedly cleaned by some cleaner without using a bit of common sense. In other countries, it would have raised hues and cries… stalling of the train and even compensation, but here from every passenger's bag, almost magically, came out a old newspaper that was used to clean the seats… they are all used to it.

Allahabad has definitely improved. Is it the new government, with Law and order high on agenda…? (The sitting MP and high profile criminal of Allahabad Ateeq Ahmad is on the run, ever since the new government has come to power). Or is it the Shock absorber effect of Delhi.

My elder brother told me that Allahabad University has changed into a central University…. This has reduced the number of students… and now only cream is able to find admission in the University… this has purged a lot of non-serious students that used to hang around the University as if they were born to just hang around over there…

Result is Allahabad is a quieter town, a mellower town…resonating the same vibes that it used to give during my early childhood. Hope it remains that way.

I came back to Delhi the same day, after meeting with Papa, Ma, Nani and other family members… seeing them after a long time was a beautiful experience… Allahabad will always remain my hometown.

The next one and a half day was spent in Delhi; doing various chores… buying things for people back in Cairo, meeting a few good friends of mine over here… it was all a nice experience. I went to Sarojini Nagar market… and was almost crushed by the huge crowds… one motorcyclist with his pillion associate drove into the one way… almost crashing with into a car… the Car man objected, only to be subjected by a barrage of foul language and threats by the two motorcyclists… nobody came to the rescue of the car man… it was not their matter. Nothing is anybody's matter in India… almost nothing, till it affects you

On 15^th, my flight was at 9 in the evening… I left the place at 5, anticipating a traffic jam… My son somehow sensed that I am going away, he was inconsolable…. And not ready to leave me.

My wife somehow held him while I rode the Auto Rickshaw…. While I was going away, I saw my son crying…. It was very painful for me.

Drops of tears rolled down my eyes… I searched for a handkerchief, but as I am, it was not in my pocket…. I started wiping my tears with my sleeves. When the Bihari migrant auto driver spoke.

"Saheb ee to Zindagi ba, Hamka dekhai… apna dui saal ka bachha aur mehraru ko chhod ke unki khatir yahan kaam kar rahe hain… ka karenge, jeena to hai hi (Sir, this is life… look at me. I have left my two year old son and wife back home and working over here, what to do-this is life)"

I looked at him and smiled… he smiled too… he was my brother, my companion and yes

This was my very own country, of which I am proud. Home is where the heart is

Reminiscence from the Levant: Part Twelve – Reaching Maloola.

Damascus is full of beautiful faces… many of them, without the head wears that are ubiquitous in Cairo. Damascene girls are not only fairer compared to those in Cairo… they are slimmer, more attuned to the Western fashion sense and are more graceful, in comparison.

Later in the night, I met another acquaintance of mine, named Karthikeyan… Finding his house was a nice experience… I was helped by an old woman to be dropped near to Karthikeyan's house… then by an old man, who strived to find the exact place of his residence for more than an hour (During the house hunting, I met a Sri Lankan girl… though she could not be of much help, but we both felt nice to see each other… and felt as if we were from the same country; A lot of Sri Lankan girls work as housemaids in Lebanon and Syria)

Karthikeyan played a wonderful host, his wife prepared a tasty South Indian dinner for me… and only when I ate a small portion of it… did I realize, how very much I was craving for a morsel of Indian food…. For last few days, I was surviving on Felafel.

After the dinner, Karthikeyan dropped me back to Devesh's place…. I tried sleeping but could not and kept on wondering what to do next as I had no plans in place for the next day… May be another day of site-seeing in Damascus, or perhaps pushing to Bosra or Amman… I was just weighing my options, when I stumbled upon a piece of paper… which mentioned a place called Maloola…

Maloola is a very special place… being the only place in the world where Aramaic is still spoken in daily life… Aramaic is a very special language… it was the language of Jesus; Contrary to the popular belief that it was either Greek or Latin. In recent years, only the movie "Passion of the Christ" referred to the real language of Christ. Otherwise all the imagery of Christ are either in Greek or in Latin.

Maloola is an important centre for Syrian Orthodox Church. Maloola and another nearby town of Sadanaya house the entire top clergy of Syrian Orthodoxy… the patriarch of Syrian Orthodox Church is based in Sadanaya. (An interesting piece of information- more than half of the adherents of this church are actually in India, in the state of Kerala, therefore an Indian coming to either Maloola or Sadanaya is not surprising for these places)

In Maloola one can see a beautiful Church of Byzantine origin and a beautiful monastery(Byzantine was a great Greco-Roman empire established in 300 AD and dominated the entire region for almost 1000 years. In its heydays it extended from Europe to North Africa to Turkey and Levant…- much of what Christianity is today, especially the Roman Catholicism is due to this empire and its greatest ruler the Constantine- from whose name the earlier name of Istanbul i.e.Constantinople derived itself). The atmosphere in Maloola is very relaxed and friendly.

I started for Maloola, very early in the morning… with a plan to cover both Maloola and Sadanaya in one day… return back and then proceed to either Amman or Bosra.

However as I had said earlier… sometimes staying far off from the tourist jamboree is not a good idea… it took me almost 2 hours to search for the bus stand from where I could fetch bus to Maloola… In these two hours, I must have traveled the entire Damascus city. In a sense… these two hours were not a waste of time, it was a sort of whirlwind tour of the entire city- from the wealthy suburbs to slums… from Spartan areas to the walled city…

The bus ride to Maloola takes one and a half hour… Maloola is located in the desolate hilly areas… The terrain in Maloola and nearby area is arid, harsh and a far cry from the green areas just 40 kilometers away in Damascus… Seeing Maloola, I was reminded of Wadi Natrun, a Coptic monastery in Egypt. Christians in these predominantly Muslim countries have sought refuge in these harsh areas to sustain and survive from Muslim assault… they cound refuge in the harsh deserts of Egypt, in the arid highlands of Syria and in the unearthly terrains of Cappadocia in Turkey. Making these terrains inhabitable was the key to their survival in hostile political clime.

Today's Maloola is a gentle town… quite like a hill station with gentle slopes. A lot of local Christian families come to Maloola to visit the church and the monastery… so the church itself is very crowded…

There is a beautiful chapel where I was reintroduced to the Madaba mosaics… a few steps up there is a place, much revered by the Christians… where everybody went only after removing their shoes… I joined them; a priest tied a white thread around my wrist and blessed me.

On the back side of the church is a small but dramatic canyon like place called Tekla Gap… It was used by the residents of the place to escape the wrath of approaching armies. The gap also leads you to the Monastery…. If one comes to Maloola, walking in the Tekla Gap is a must… the temperature of the Gap is at least 5-10 degree centigrade less than the ambience around.

I saw the monastery and wondered in I can proceed to Sadanaya from this place. And entered a shop, where an old man was speaking to his beautiful daughter in a language that was certainly not Arabic. I checked… he was speaking in Aramaic, the language of Christ.

Reminiscence from the Levant: Part Eleven – Sleepless in Damascus.

While coming from Palmyra to Damascus, one comes across a place called Baghdad Café… buses stop here for twenty odd minutes to let passengers stretch and de-stress themselves with a cup of hot Turkish coffee… When I was barely five year old… my father used to narrate me the stories of Sindabad the sailor… and how he conquered the seven seas. Seas have thereafter always fascinated me… and he was my hero… who was able to challenge the unchallengeable.

Baghdad and Iraq are not very far away from Palmyra… it takes about nine hours by bus to go to Baghdad… less than it takes to reach Allahabad, my home town, from Delhi…. But nobody goes there… an entire nation has perished… but its not only about a nation… its about an entire civilization, of Euphrates and Tigris, that got wiped from the surface of earth in last few years… it’s a poignant feeling, something same that I felt when the Buddhist monument was destroyed by Taliban in Afghanistan… history can not be reclaimed…

I reached the Hamiddiya Souq when it was getting dark… about six in the evening… I could see at a distance the statue of Saladdin, the mighty Muslim warrior – who single handedly changed the tide of the crusades and perhaps the history. He sat on a galloping horse, with Crusader kings sitting vanquished below the hoofs of his horse. A beautiful statue, however, a bit parochial. In the backdrop is the famous Damascus citadel… though it is closed for common public… people told me that there is hardly anything worthwhile to be seen within the precincts of the citadel.

Hamiddiya souq is magical… straight out of Arabian Nights… a vaulted souq at its best…. Compared to Aleppo's souq, this is definitely bigger, and more lively … with people chasing you around… offering a better bargain et al. The main thoroughfare is almost a kilometer long… with supporting alleys and by-alleys. Shops, workshops, cafes, and the most magical of them all…Hammams… the Turkish baths

I stepped in one such Hammam and took a look at the interiors of Hammam… earlier, I was made to believe that a Hammam is a steamy place, a bit ill kept and often a meeting point for Homosexuals… but the reality is far from it…. Hammams have separate hours for males and females and are often integral part of the Arab and Turk society…. And very well kept, neat and clean.

At the end of the souq, stands the grand Umayyad mosque… so beautiful that it will sure stop you to gasp for breath.

Umayyad is one of those mosques that welcome non-Muslims with an open heart. The only care one needs to take is to keep his shoes away before entering the mosque. And that there are some special enclosures for Women (even if you do enter them, you will be politely told to turn away….the mosque management is extremely friendly). One practical advice is to avoid the prayer hours in the mosque, when it gets very crowdy.

Umayyad is a good example of the period when Islam and Christianity were in perfect harmony. It is said that initially this was a Church that housed the tomb of John the Baptist. John the Baptist was one of the first saints of Christianity… he was a maternal cousin of Jesus, son of Zachariah and Elizabeth and performed the religious ceremony of baptism for Jesus… he however is well regarded by Islam also…therefore since the advent of Islam in Damascus, the Christians and Muslims started praying in this church… for about 700 years… however upon skirmishes on how to pray and who would lead the prayer, this 700 years old tradition gave way to a covenant by which Christians were given three churches outside Damascus in place of this Church.

The Christian features are very palpable in the mosque… a minaret is shaped like a bell tower, there is a baptism well… a treasury that is definitely a church feature… the interesting thing, however, is that thousands of Muslims come to this mosque to pay their reverence to John the Baptist (referred as Yahya)

In this mosque, while talking to an Australian national over a cup of coffee in a nearby café… I come to know about a small religion called Mandaeism… We generally believe that there are only three religions emanating from the region of Levant… Islam, Christianity and Judaism… however this world view is often governed by the Islamic world view that considered only these three religions as true religions. But there were few other religions that emanated from the same legacy… like the Mandaeism that considers Adam to be their first Prophet and John the Baptist as the last and the most important prophet. Even Bahaism is a part of the same family of religion… that reveres all the prophets of the three religions but argues that their last Prophet was Bahaullah. There is yet another religion of Durzes, that exists... more about it later. Today there are about 50000 to 60000 Mandaeists in the entire world- sizeable among them are in Australia… the man who told me this said he was a Christian… but I have a nagging feeling that he was actually a Mandaeist.

I roamed the old city to reach a place called Hejaz railway station… that runs a narrow gauge train to Jordan and other places in Syria… however the service to Jordan has stopped for last four years… it was a small, unassuming building…. In front of the building was a small railway engine for display.

The buildings in Damascus are a mix of old and new… but a yearn for designing something unique is visible in every building… I just walked around the place and saw them all…

It was 10 in the night and I was far from asleep… I was sleepless in Damascus.

History from the eyes of a pondering vagabond

Some time ago, I struck upon an idea to write the entire history of India… as I see it. I however dithered… yet another History book… I said!!!!

History is one of the most dynamic social sciences… one need to visit historical facts again and again to understand them… in light of newer sociological, anthropological, geographical, philosophical, political and scientific developments. But that is best left to the experts… the more important thing for me is how you and I perceive the history… After all… the stories that my Papa told me in the childhood still reverberate in my mind whereas all the history lessons learnt in the School and thereafter, have considerably faded.

I will, therefore, like to write about the Indian history from the commoners' point of view… from my point of view… though, of course I realize that it would have little pedagogical value. But still...

But more importantly, I would like to do one more thing… I would like to write about the history of India enmeshed with a travelogue… that is, I will pick up a town as a vantage for the entire era or age and write about the age and also about the city/town/village that I have picked up as a vantage point. There after I will travel in a linear fashion to the place selected for the next era and write about my travel experience and the era… in a continuum….

This is a very time taking and difficult task…. Yet I will do it some day… wish me luck… that I may do it one day.

Here is the draft list of the selected places, and era that would be covered from the place... it may be seen that all efforts have been taken to enlist all the regions of India

Your suggestions are solicited

State	Place	Agenda of the Chapter	Title of the Chapter
Madhya Pradesh	Bhimbetka	Prehistoric India	Writings on the wall
Rajasthan	Kalibangan	Indus Valley Civilization	The Civilization begins
Uttaranchal	Kotdwar	Early Vedic Period	And those who came thereafter
Orissa	Puri	Later Vedic Period	The New order
Bihar	Bodhgaya	Buddhism and Jainism	And the two who defied it
Uttar Pradesh	Kanauj	Till about Harshavardhan	The Golden Age
Haryana	Panipat	Advent of Islam	And then the fragmented
Tamilnadu	Thanjavur	Early South Indian kingdoms	Around the same time in South
Andhra Pradesh	Warangal	Later South Indian kingdoms	And there after
Uttar Pradesh	Kara	Early Delhi Sultanate	Sultans of Delhi
Delhi	Tughlakabad	Later Delhi Sultanate	The turmoil that followed
Bihar	Sahsaram	Early Mughals	Mughals at the horizon
Punjab	Gurdaspur	The Mughal consolidation	The nation builders
Maharashtra	Nanded	Decay of Mughal empire	The nation crumbles
Karnataka	Hampi	Vijaynagar and Bahmanis	Tale of two cities
Rajasthan	Ajmer	Bhakti and Sufism	The Tolerant traditions
Maharashtra	Shivneri	Maratha empire	The Great Marathas
Kerala	Kozhikode	Arrivals of the European	Vini
West Bengal	Murshidabad	Opportunities for the Britishers	Vidi
Himachal Pradesh	Shimla	The Consolidation by the Britishers	Vici
Karnataka	Mysore	Tipu and Ranjit	The few road blocks
Jharkhand	Ranchi	1857 and few other revolts	The early defiance
West Bengal	Belur	Indian Renaissance	The Renaissance
Gujarat	Rajkot	Early National movement	Waiting for the Mahatma
Gujarat	Dandi	The National movement	The rise of the Mahatma
Uttar Pradesh	Kakori	The other paths	And those who differed
Jammu and Kashmir	Srinagar	Independence and the partition	The Nation Victorious
Chattisgarh	Bhilai	The Nehruvian period	The nation dreams
Tamilnadu	Perumbudur	Indira and Rajiv period	The nation setbacked
Assam	Guwahati	Post Rajiv period	The nation resurgent