Deep in the valley, two men are digging the sand off the shore, on the brink of onset of a supposedly cold winter. One is in his early twenties, while other is barely fifty. He calls the older one, uncle (younger brother of his father). Both reign from Saharanpur district of Uttar Pradesh and have traveled […]Read more "Chasing Yamuna: A love story of our time"
Click here for Part I I fail to keep my feet warm. My toes are numb and temperature outside is still 20 degrees below freezing. As I lay in my sleeping bag, I’m thinking of time I spent in Vipassana Meditation where I’d stay in meditative state for 17 hours a day that lasted for 10 […]Read more "48 hours : A Quest For Life Amid Dead (Part II)"
“I do not want to read in tomorrow’s newspapers – an Indian found dead in hills of Bromont. Gaurav, trust me this doesn’t sound a good idea. I will say while reading, I warned this guy on Christmas eve but he didn’t listen.” Snow-clad streets of Montreal, 6 degrees below freezing, windy and my first […]Read more "48 hours : A Quest For Life Amid Dead (Part I)"
Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Flip, face up. Compress chest. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Check the breathing. Do you feel anything? Nothing. Check if anything is visible in mouth? Nothing. Check the heartbeat. It’s high. Do babies normally have high heart rate? I don’t know. Look up at his mother. How is she doing? She’s in […]Read more "Tiny Little Things In Delhi Metro"
Village Naya Khera. Udaipur. Rajasthan. India. It’s Monday late morning and I decide to climb Aranya, the closest major hill in India’s oldest Mountain Range – The Aravallis, 4000 ft high. Loose gravel, sand, soft rocks, freshly laid asphalt and dry soil. I cross all in a jiffy to find myself in a field of […]Read more "A Sincere Apology to 2017"
Quebec City – Montreal 375 km Celebrating 375 years of Montreal In beautiful town of Yamaska, hundred kilometers from Montreal towards Quebec, it’s raining sheets outside for past three days when I step in this café, order a regular Poutine and request to deliver on table as I hide myself in deepest corner. I do […]Read more "The Northern Transcendence 375"
The Barkley Fall Classic It’s around 2.15 pm of a much-awaited Saturday in woods of Tennessee. I’m bleeding from scratches on right leg, the toe in the right shoe is crushed, I barely have a few ounces of water left in my blue hydration pack. The last I saw any course marking was over an […]Read more "The Thousand Deaths on Rat Jaw"