Ghumakkar's Diary

Finally inspired by a friend blogger Ritu KT , I could able to gather some courage to participate in this Camp NaNoWriMoJuly 2013 . I have had already planned for the 50,000 words challenge scheduled for November, so for the camp I kept the target at 20,000 and language opted is Hindi. Reasons are simple , first to be in rather achievable limits (targeting galactically high not always helps), second Hindi would for sure help me to convert the flow of thoughts in to words easily and efficiently, and third it may let me back achieving the interest and competence in my mother tongue again :) ( yes, I actually feel so lost and fragile in Hindi these days ). Camp NaNoWriMo A marathon event PADE is already going on, July Camp will only put pressure on me that too in a month which I am already seeing fully packed up and heavily planned. What I need is determination ( now, I don’t believe in wishes and luck ), let’s see how it turned out to be. I will try to update the status of m...

‘ कुछ लोग अईसे ही भीगे रहते हैं कशमकश में, दुविधा में’ ‘पर, अम्मा कुछ लोग तो बड़े आराम से फैसले कर लेते और खुश भी रहते हैं.’ ‘हाँ, हाँ, कुछ लोग सूखे माने दुविधा-मुक्त भी रहते हैं’ चौबाइन चाची ने हमेशा की तरह सिक्के के दोनों पहलुओं को सामने रखते हुए कहा. चौबाइन चाची का एक अपना तरीका था मिसाल दे के बात समझाने का. अठन्नी के सिंघाड़ा से डेढ़-सौ रुपया की साईकिल और पांच पैसा के टाफी से ले पांच रुपया के सरफ तक कुछ भी, चाची बड़ी आराम से प्रयोग कर लेती थीं मिसाल देने में. ये कहानी तब की जब गए रात कोई पौने आठ बजे ननकू भैया आफिस से घर आये. गांव-देहात में सात-आठ बजे ही रात कहला जाती. तो, कहानी कुछ ऐसी है की उस दिन जब ननकू भैया पौने-आत्ब बजे लौटे, तो बड़े ही अनमने-अटपटे से थे. ऐसे ननकू भैया बड़े ही मस्त मिजाज के प्राणी हैं, हमेश खिलखिल करते रहते नहीं तो बकर-बकर करते रहना तो उनकी आदत में ही है. पर, वो रात कुछ अलग थी. सीधे-सादे ननकू भैया बड़े ही शांत और खोये-खोये थे. चाची हमारी बड़ी ही समझदार हैं, वैसे तो खोद-खाद के किस्सा तुरंत जान लेती हिनहिन, पर कब चुपचाप रहना चाहिए ये कोई उनसे सीखे...

‘ Sir, wake up, it’s Victoria ’ some sort of voice-management, of course with due courtesy, and it banged on my ears again ‘ Sir? It’s Victoria, didn’t you want to get down here… ’ Fighting the universal conspiracy, I tried opening my eyes and listening to the conductor simultaneously,   yeaah multi-tasking ! ‘ Oh, yeah, thank you! Thanks !’ a formal smile, rubbed shoulders (it wasn’t crowded, I was yet sleepy) rubbing my eyes I stepped down of the tram. “ Wooo….Man! Where I am? This is not Kolakata, forget it, this is not even India !” I stepped down apparently from Kolkata Tramway at   Maidan   near Victoria Memorial, but it wasn’t the same. There was no   maidan , no typical Kolkata traffic, no Victoria Memorial and it was something else. Fishy! No it wasn’t fishy. I looked back at Tram, it wasn’t like Tram either. Highway 31 Bikers' Restaurant ‘ Have I had grass? No, neva! So, how did I disembark a metro when I picked up a tram an...

Have been on road since, aah…. I don’t remember , how many days. Rode past through thousands of villages, many a towns, and don’t know how many states. When I found myself at the end of my earlier life, I kicked the lever and came onto the tar. Like they do ideally or in the movies, I didn’t throw my cards, wallet or mobile. Money was at least that I needed to reach the point where I may have to finally decide, whether to go back to civilization or just move ahead wandering! I put those earthly things somewhere in my satchel, sort of dumped, and switched off. Whether to go back to civilization or just move ahead wandering Every end finally disappears into a new start. That I have learnt a zillionth times in my life. Probably, am the man who learns by experiencing; certainly, otherwise I would have been Chanakya , who once said, life is too small to learn from our own mistakes, so I read from others . Am just a commoner, with my share of sins and other, to say, moral activities. ...

  Date: May 8, 2212 “ Armour? ” Done! “ Goggles? ” Done! “ Helmet? ” Here it’s! “ Alarm? ” Set! “ Sleep? ”, I beg, someone please hunt down some sleep for me.” LNSD or Last Night Sleep Deficiency is not new for the riders. From the accounts of my great grandfather, who rode the old iconic Bullet in India, I know riders who rode more than two centuries ago, have also had problems in sleeping on the night before the ride. Medicos call it LNSD, we call it – no we don’t call it anything, we have just got habituated to it. This is sort of anxiety, anxiety to witness the thrill of Life that is about to be offered in a few hours, when I would ride my latest M-ron 1800 on its maiden ride to Moon ! Yes to moon! After Neil Armstrong ’s first Step on moon, M-ron became the first 2-wheeler capable to ride in no-gravity to sub-gravity atmosphere . To earn an M-ron, I spent my whole life, well not whole life, just the time between my first dreams of moon the day I could save...

When I died some 20years ago, I didn’t realize would ever be worshipped for something I could have actually tried to avoid. I tried to re-write it, tried to erase the mistake I did; but, it’s not always the way one wishes! I am Om Singh; they fondly call me Om Bana or more lovingly Bullet Baba. Chotila is the village where I was born and brought up into a Bulleteer. It was 1991, month I don’t remember – for it never mattered to me; it was just another pleasant night in the hot sands of Rajasthan when I died. Time stopped that day, at least for me! Om Bana's Bullet - Riding towards Sunshine, Riding towards Sanity Like any other young youth of there times, I too had an ambitious heart raving high on his Bullet through the yet-to-be metalled roads of Rajasthan. I brought up in a family, affluent to most of the resources, if not like rajahs. Chotila was my kingdom, friends my life and Bullet – the mighty machine I ride. Alcohol was another special friend, who dragged me to ...