Sunday, September 18, 2005

A time Wrap

i.e., Duliajan [my trip home]

Even when you are trying to sleep despite the continuous ringing of digital notes of your digital clock, pulling up the quilt comes to no rescue. A faint hustle-bustle of the delhi roads, with continous honking of cars and cars and cars do shake u up. But the distant callin doesn't still deter you from your late morning sleep. Frame this scene, and i am sure you can identify with me. But!!But!! a this faint hustle bustle soons transforms into a monster with continous honking of cars and cars when you go out into the middle to pick up your paras ka single toned milk packet.

This thing will never leave me even if I bade delhi goodbye. This time when I visited home, which is Good o'l state - Assam i.e., Duliajan. During peak office hours, bleak afternoon hours and alcoholic evenings, there is just no noise..just complete silence. Although, crass nth bonus issues given by OIL INDIA LTD have knocked off the lahe lahe spending habits of my town. But the amount to new cars and bikes still couldn't counter the nature's furious love with silence.

The town is still silent, perhaps the non-ending lines of trees that line up the oil colony, silences any invention of ford or faradey. I normally cycle around in my hero cycle, which takes me to this strange time-wrap, by which just visiting some corner of some dilapated wall of oil colony quarter, takes me back to my school days, when we and our friends use to freak out in the name of tuition for our matriculation exams.

The occasional smoking cigarrattes behind the helicopter ground and the gold course, or the long cycle track, which gives you excellent oppurtunity to talk to yourself to boredom. A perfect excape from our own self, this silence of dulijan town will provide you.

So, I went to this time wrap, and I swear even though it was so short. I loved it.
Next, I will upload some photographs of my silent time wrapped town - Duliajan


Sunday, June 5, 2005

Ellora - the swabhiman story

Get me the cookies

On my recent trip to Dehradun-Mussorie, there was one name that kept ringing intermittedly - ELLORA n ELLORA. I started wondering may it must be something like ellora, some elusive cave, where now you can even find Mcdonalds's outlet inside, littered like bisleri bottles like some very published tourist spots in mussourie. But I had, lots of surprises in store for me - my girlfriend later added on to my clarity of urgency when she asked me specifically for pista cookie from ELLORA. I would certainly research on to it more, once i put my hands on some. But as my girlfriend later told me, ELLORA is one of the oldest bakeries in dehradun, it was well written on the entrance sign boad - estd in 1953. But what even my girlfriend was not prepared for was that there were two ELLORA bakery shops, right next to each other.

Each one of them protraying to be established in 1953. Which should i go in for the cookies i been asked for?

So, I started playing up my mind with the infamous RELIANCE story, story of two brothers going sour over some million dollar property. so, what the catch for ELLORA story. When my two uncles and their patient wives fought over our ancestral home. A low cricket stump high wall was build over their balconies and two separate entries came upon our anscestral home. So, i presume something similar happenned to ELLORA. A 'swabhiman' shift - traditional joint family blues.

No matter, the cookies were great, i can't say from which one i got, but i hope i got the genuine one.

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