Land-ending of the Hot Air Balloon

So during my visit to Australia, my pre itinerary list included a breathtaking ride gushing through the clouds, engulfed in the exceptionally clear morning sky of the Victorian state- Melbourne. 

On the previous day itself, an unfateful hot air balloon had crashed in the Carterton region of New Zealand killing 11 passengers after getting stuck in the electric wires. It sounded creepy while it was airing on the BBC news but we did not want to dampen our spirits.

Global ballooning, one of the most trusted names for this sport became our escort for the day. We had been asked to reach the starting point at the Hilton hotels reception at 5:00 a.m . We quickly signed forms to take the entire responsibility of any mishappenings that might happen during the adventure. Soon after that we were made to jump in a mini van and taken to Kakarook Park for the take off. The park in itself was a delight to watch. A beautiful lake amidst the curvaceous roads, wooden bridges and chairs placed over the pitch green finely chopped grass to watch the ducks floating in the crystal water .

Global Ballooning car

The setup of the balloon takes close to 1 hour, and the staff seeks volunteering from the passengers for the same. As girls shirk from moving their butts so I rather preferred to capture some pictures around. Meanwhile the volunteers pulled the balloon out of the cars with the help of attached cables , opened it slowly by rolling it outwards spreading it on the ground like a cheese slice on the bread and attempted to heat the air inside the balloon to create buoyancy partially by ignition of burners and partially by blowing cold air into it with the help of air coolers. After filling the belly of the balloon for around 30 minuets the flimsy looking balloon turned into a gigantic flying machine. As per the instructions we jumped into the Gandola (the basket to carry passengers). One hard push by the staff and the balloon took a flight to conquer the territory of the sky fighting through the clouds just like warriors in the battleground. We were soon flying over the lake and there were several other multicolored balloons flying sky-high.

Volunteers pulling out the balloon

Heating the air inside the balloon

Flames by burners

The flight

The flight that we booked was for the Melbourne skyline route ( Colossal buildings in the Yarra river area) ,but the pilot informed us that the destiny of the ride is decided by the wind, which gave me the first jitter that the pilot was probably not the right choice. Surprisingly the wind traced a path upon the residential area. To gain altitude the ignition was started and to drop the altitude the ignition was stopped. While dropping we almost touched the heads of the wooden houses (which gave me a second jitter of suspicion for the pilot) and people on the ground waved at us in excitement. On the contrary immense height blurred the view to the city due to blindness caused by the clouds below. The whole excitement of surrendering to the sky with open arms sent shivery thrill to electrify my body. I took an aerial view of the entire city which included box like structures , toy cars, green sketches, well at least they appeared to be like one from the naked eye. The brisk air was very cold but was being nullified, time and again by the heat of the balloon.  

View blurred by clouds

Residential area

The shadow of balloon fell on the clouds and my eyes sparkled at the view. This journey was special for everyone. An Aussie man had gifted this to his wife to celebrate the 35 year old bond that they shared. A daughter surprised her mother with the big ride on her 60th birthday and my Jiju had surrendered to my unruly desire to get on the monster as a gift to save his marriage. 

Shadow of the balloon on the clouds

So after an hour of the flight, it was coming to a close and the pilot had informed the staff about the landing in an open golf ground. We were all asked to hold the Gandola firmly, facing opposite to the landing and crouch a bit. We followed the instructions and turned our faces which luckily kept us from the witnessing the collision that was about to happen. As the balloon descended the pilot lost the estimate of the drop. The landing missed by seconds and almost reached the boundaries of the ground. It bumped into a huge tree and collapsed just before landing. The Gandola tilted some 2 meters above the ground and like a ring a ring a roses rhyme we all fell down. My free fall rested on my back and sent a steep pain down my butt. All of us got up quickly and took a look at what had happened. The balloon was stuck in the tree and the Gandola had detached from it. Stunned by the sudden jerk, everyone other than the 60 year old lady who was surprisingly clicking her own pictures while lying down, went furious. To pacify the situation the old lady laughed out loudly which made me think that the jerk had affected her head. The others followed her in the laughter exercise to bring peace but I could not even spare a smile as I had clearly hurt my back.

60 Year old lady

My Jiju, questioned about the careless landing to the pilot but no explanation could have helped. I got up and waited for the entire process of packing up the balloon to complete so that I could go back home and narrate the whole story to my sister. Back home, my sister in a winning tone expressed that how she was right to caution us for the silly ride. She expressed her remorse for my pain and applied me a balm. The pain was severe that lasted for 3-4 days and costed me 30$ for the doctors fee, a 2 day bed rest and an extension of my trip in Australia by a week.

Nightmarish New Year

As a child,  I would look up into my fathers eyes and ask him...Dad when will I get to experience the New Year's Eve of Sydney. This was amongst the many other wishes that as a child I felt should essentially come true, like becoming an astronaut and eating uncle chips on the top of the moon, getting into CBI and solving some complicated murder mysteries or becoming an actress and making some really horrible faces as a vamp. My dad taking all my wishes quite seriously( god knows how ) would say, definitely all your wishes will come true. I am not sure about the others but New year's eve in Sydney definitely came true some 20 years later during my visit to Australia in the much hyped Mayans cataclysmic year 2012.

It was 31st Dec 2012, 2:00 p.m in the afternoon. We were well in time to occupy the best spot on the circular quay wharf no 6 which was one of the listed places to view the Darling harbour bridge on the maps. Darling harbour is the bridge where the grand show happens every year and this year it was exactly 10 hours away. We had occupied a small place and marked out territory with the help of a bed sheet. People were flowing in from every corner and the entry was allowed till 6:00 pm. As time passed a group of 6-7 Chinese girls and guys came in. They placed themselves besides our spot and very smartly kept dragging inch by inch in our LOC. My sister frowned at them to scare them away but all that while we had to protect our space from them as they were constantly on a hunt to snatch it. 

So after waiting for 10 hours where each passing hour seemed like a day, we were close to the clock striking 12:00. We had been madly waiting for this one moment of spectacular fireworks and were surviving on a single Nando's burger and lots of caffeine. Now was the moment that I had once wished 20 years back to come true and I could not wait for it any longer. 

Suddenly amidst all excitement I heard some fearful noises of people that broke the chord between my eyes and the darling harbour bridge. I turned to see what had happened and saw some flames rising which were bleakly visible with my naked eye. My sister sounded frightened too and I realised within seconds that a fire,  a genuine fire that was getting uncontrollable had broken a little farther from where we standing. My jiju zoomed in from his handycam to catch a clear glimpse of it and to our utter shock the fire had already caught hold of a huge tree and was advancing hastily towards the boundaries. My blood froze in my body and my life force got stuck somewhere in my throat. I totally panicked of a stampede like I had heard in stories of crowded places. I realised that I will have to get out of it before its too late.The only thought running in my mind was that I did not want to die in a foreign land and I shall not let the Mayans win. I gathered courage and gave an invitation to my sister and jiju to save their lives. My jiju was too engrossed in capturing the end of the world with his tiny handycam and my sister was not by any chance agreeing to surrender the territory to the blood thirsty Chinese troops. After-all she had been protecting our 2 by 2 square feet of area from the Chinese scavengers from past 10 hours. So without wasting any time I started running alone to save my life whereas people were shooting pictures of the fire and standing unhindered by the flames. My brain started working like shakuntala Devi. I applied all permutations and combinations to save myself and came up with two brilliant ideas for disaster management i.e. either to jump in the water and get hold  of the armour in the ship or climb up the terrace of the coffee shop which had earned a lot of dollars from us today.

For implementation of the first idea I had to convince the police who stood guards to the huge closed gates. I ran up to the man and narrated him that I had come from India and that he will have to let me get out of the gate. I was strongly pushing the gate back and forth to open it. The police guard with a blank face told me that the fire brigade was on the way and there was nothing to panic but I did not care to listen. I wanted to make a last minute calI to india and speak to my parents for one last time but the battery of the phone had died down. I quickly ran off to implement my second idea and that was to climb the coffee shop terrace. The climb did not seem to be an easy one but I buckled up my shoes and started to climb by placing my foot over the window. The IPad in my hand was becoming a roadblock but it was too precious to be abandoned even in a pressure situation like that one. All this while whenever I saw some 70,000 odd people, I was surprised to see them standstill. Why were they not running? how come they were clicking pictures? We're they out of their mind? 

Anyways fearing the IPads life, my jiju came running to save its  life and asked me to return the poor thing. He convinced me hard to come down the window and I came down some seconds later because the flight was getting impossible. After failing in all my attempts to get out of the closed boundaries and nowhere to go, I started running in circles in the closed area where we were locked, in a hope to bring my anxiety to rest.

An English guy who had become our neighbour for the day and was a silent spectator to the whole situation checked with my sister twice if that was some kind of dance Indians like to do before the celebration starts. My sister bewildered herself just nodded her head in agreement as she had not much to say for my behaviour. 

A few minutes later, living through a nightmarish near death experience, I heard a fire brigade roaring across the road.  The melodious sound of the machine allayed my fear and lightened a hope that this was not the end, I will witness the charismatic new year and share some mind blowing stories with my friends back home. An announcement was made soon after that the fire has been put off.

The phenomenal fireworks started exactly at 12:00 a.m.  to welcome the new year 2013 and also put an end to a traumatised yet the most unforgettable New Year's Eve of my life in the vivacious Sydney. 

To watch the video of fire at new years please click on the link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Opfkg35GKbs

Kashmir- the heavenly abode

A long awaited trip to the picturesque valley came to an end in April this year. Somehow the trip was getting delayed for a longtime, many a times due to my fear or due to some unrest in the city. I along with my family boarded a direct flight from Chandigarh to Srinagar, a 1 hour zip through the clouds.


The first cold breeze that caressed me stepping out of the airport brought a smile on my face and I came to realize that this trip is going to be something that I have never experienced before. A taxi had come to pick us from the airport and while driving to the hotel I had already started filling my memories with some of the most splendid views and an unseen city life.


Luckily the hotel we had chosen for our stay was just opposite to the most famous landmark of Srinagar, a standstill yet a lively Dal Lake. There were loads of houseboats placed aisle to aisle in the clear water each carrying a different name like New Melbourne, Honeymoon special and I clearly got an idea that they were not meant for me as I am still single.


To re-energize ourselves for exploration, we decided to grab some food quickly. We went to a small vendor who had all sorts of pakodas and while having them with a cup of tea we stroke a conversation with the kashmiri people around. I have always felt a strong connection with the place , one because J&K is my birth place and second because I lived with a Kashmiri family when I was a child.I couldn't understand their language but Kashmiri came as a music of the past.


We visited some famous gardens of Srinagar that day including Shalimar Bhag, Chasme Shahi, Pari mahal. These gardens were made at the time of Mughal rule which was clearly visible from the architecture of the place. We were lucky to have seen Tulip gardens as it was closing down for a year. The gardens were in full spring, wherever the eyes could reach there were flowers everywhere. The air was fresh and I could see a group of around 50-60 school girls all dressed in a black robe covered tip to toe and heads neatly done with a white dupatta. Though they were so many in no. but still there was not much of a difference in their appearance. I wondered were they being allowed to blossom or their wings being cut forcing them into a deep sleep. Curiously I requested a picture with them and they were all extremely happy to pose. My eyes were looking at their innocence which is rare to find in metro life and theirs were anxious to seethe freedom I was enjoying. On the contrary, men were wearing a robe with hanging arms as their hands were holding on to kangdi (a traditional hand heater) beneath their robe. They generally do this to beat the cold. Both men and women had one thing in common, their impeccable skin.

In the evening we went for a walk along the Dal lake. The glimmering lights from the houseboats were dancing on the water. The clear reflections were so colorful that they seemed to be a painter’s imagination. That night floated with thoughts of colors that so distinctly characterized the different phases of my life.
The second day started with breakfast in a Punjabi dhaba ( After-all Punjabis will remain Punjabis wherever they go) and soonafter, we headed towards Pahalgam. The drive across Lal chowk and various suburbs had repeated sights of the military men standing every 100 meters as if we were inspecting a border post and swept a feeling of some disturbance and unrest in the air. Heading closer to Pahalgam the views charismatically changed from city life to hastily flowing rivers amidst the tree stacked mountains. The blanket of the blue sky protected the beautiful landscapes. For a while we stopped the car and enjoyed by the riverside.To visit Betaab valley and Aru we had to board a local taxi. On the way the roads were quite narrow and time and again sent shivers down the spine. The magical rivers and the greenery were uninterrupted.Both the destinations have been sights for Bollywood shoots long time before. Nonetheless they reminded me of old Hindi songs, the actress wearing colorful saris, dancing excitedly either to celebrate or to scare the new found love. The journey back was quite a long one and culminated into a big fat dinner and then a deep sleep. 


The next day soon after stuffing our bellies we were off to Gulmarg. On the way we passed through many less traversed villages of old Kashmir. The driver kept telling stories about incidences that happened over the past few weeks including Afzal guru assassination which brought their business to a standstill, a compulsory dress code inflicted over the females and an unexpected militant attack in the local school cricket ground. We debated a lot over how Kashmir was robbed of cinema, entertainment and freedom but nothing could get us to a logical end. 


Gulmarg as I can recall had vast green uneven fields and huge snow clad mountains standing upright. Local men were trying hard to convince tourists for a horse ride to the chair car ride. The place was extremely crowded and as the queue for the car ride was a km long we dropped the idea to wait so long to reach the top. We just marched down the green fields and that in itself was something that could make one run all around and shout to the world that if heaven exists, its here, here and only here. Late in the evening while coming back from Gulmarg, we decided to take a ride over the shikara. After short negotiations we jumped into one and sooner than we could think of we were in the middle of the lake. The quietness of the lake was disturbed by the humming sound of the oars that brushed inside the water. The shikaras threw their reflection in the vast expanse of the water creating a mirage and made me wonder that illusions are so deceiving and in life innumerable times I have believed them to be real.



Time and again vendors in the boat would come along and sell traditional stuff. Driving hastily as the time was short we reached the floating market. The whole hustle and bustle of negotiations between the customers and shopkeepers had created a marketplace over the water.As the night approached and we prepared for sleep, the mosques were in no mood for rest. The soft music echoed in the air and stirred up the deepest emotions of hope and desire. Since I was a child I have been fond of Namaaz and could not resist myself from hearing it until I was enveloped by fatigue into a deep sleep as if a lullaby had poured from the heavens and I was in the laps of Allah.


The next day which was indeed the last day we were quickly packing our stuff and were out on the streets for last minute shopping.After-all women are meant to shop even if their closets are stacked to suffocation. We bought hand embroided suits, hand woven baskets and traditional jewellery. Our driver signaled us to bring an end to our cravings or else we will miss our flights. We rushed to the airport and after two rounds of security check we were all set to board the flight back to the city beautiful.We left the valley with some beautiful memories and a strong desire to be back to the heaven where nature awaits with arms wide open.