A Farewell, A Funeral.

I never knew being in a peace station could be so hectic.

Yesterday i was in a farewell party in which a few men of our company were getting posted out and one of them was retiring. They were being given the complete treatment...... garlands, giftts, farewell speech with only good things being told about them, tears.... They were surely going to be missed for a long time to come.

I couldnt help to think (in the wierd mind that i have), it resembled that of a funeral. The garlands, the good things being told of the deceased, tears.....

Even they are missed for long.....

But in the end all are forgotten.

My sister - Rowena. She came to Secunderabad for the weekend to visit me. She works for Infosys in Bangalore. The tunic she is wearing is hand made and available chiefly in Jammu and Kashmir. Its about Rs 150/-. (P.S. -- Its about 800 bucks in Bangalore !)

The boat in which we went boating on Hussain Sagar lake 

There was even a dance show on the boat to entertain us..... 

The Budha Statue in Lake Hussain Sagar, Hyderabad. While they were installing it a couple of decades back, they dropped it into the water. They put deflated floats under the statue, underwater, and then inflated it..... Forcing the statue to finally float on water. The whole affair cost the government a few crores.

A Banyan tree decorated by the Hyderabadis for god knows what. This tree is near the Hussain Sagar lake in Hyderabad. Thats my sister - Rowena, me, Himanshu and Charu in the photo. 

New Base.

This is the longest I have been from a net connection in recent times. I now connect from a Hutch phone to the net. Finally the technology is in India and about time...

Now we are in a peace station. Secunderabad.

A far cry from the militant infested mountains of Jammu and Kashmir. It feels so odd to walk about without a weapon. You feel somethings missing when you go to the market or a movie. Yes the armed guards who always accompanied me everywhere no longer are with me. Now thats freedom. Four years in hell in the so called 'Jannat' has me really old and tired.

Gods own forsaken land. Where the people have a different idea of independence. People who value peace on their endless wait for the same. Sometimes it feels great to live so happily in a place like Bangalore where the people have no idea of whats going on in
J & K.

The mess of a place that it is, is compounded by the lack of any kind of industry that may sustain a common man. You either have a shop or you have a field. There is practically no public transport, atleast not something you can be proud of, no entertainment avenues and all the glitterati that a decent town or a city holds. Buying land is illegal. Renting is risky. The people survive with sheer hope and refuse to leave for much more peaceful parts of the country.

So why do i miss the place?

Guess its too beautiful.

Worth fighting for.

Worth dying for.....