The Zen master is the master of good times. Whenever he takes us students out he makes sure we have the time of our lives. The car trips are full of laughter and the destinations are larger than life. Everything is more animated and more exciting than what we imagine before we begin. That's the way it has always been. Ans so it was this night.
We are in Kasol, a hill station which is yet to be discovered by the regular tourist. A small cluster of shops and a few hotels sandwiched between 2 mountains. It is a lovely place. And it was a lovely night. The Zen master and I had been living here for the last few days and we were just joined by a new friend. We wanted to work and he wanted to party. So we decided to break the regular affair of cost cutting and splurge. Mind you, by splurge we still meant only to spend as much as a 3 days budget could be on a 12 day tour.
The dinner was marvelous. We has just had some apple caramble (one slice divided among us three) and then went on to order a parmeson cheese Rissotto, a veg biryani, a veg chowmein and a fruit salad. The bill came for Rs 230 but the experience was priceless. The table we were eating on was under a tree, lit with a dim light. The river was breaking through the rocks on the right side of us and a dog lay on the left with his legs up in the air. You cannot buy a better ambiance. Our new friend wanted to drink wine and the Zen master encouraged it so we went and bought a bottle of Indian wine. It was a celebration. And then he started about his love....
It was the Zen master who instigated it. He pushed and cajoled till our new friend opened up about it. Knowing the way everyone, myself included, shares all their problems with the Zen master, our new friend must have spoken of it before but he started from the very beginning so that I too could know it all. They met in a company trip. They spoke. She was bold, uncharacteristic of her, and he was flirtatious, characteristic of him. They became good friends and at some point he fell in love. But as the Gods of Cinema would have it, he is a Hindu and she is a Muslim. The families came in between and the fated lovers were destined to curb their feelings. She is to be married soon and as I write this post, our new friend speaks with her, long distance -Kasol to Chennai, in the balcony, drunk as much as half a bottle of wine can.
These are the stories cinema is made of ....
I too have a few, but then those are for another day...
later
We are in Kasol, a hill station which is yet to be discovered by the regular tourist. A small cluster of shops and a few hotels sandwiched between 2 mountains. It is a lovely place. And it was a lovely night. The Zen master and I had been living here for the last few days and we were just joined by a new friend. We wanted to work and he wanted to party. So we decided to break the regular affair of cost cutting and splurge. Mind you, by splurge we still meant only to spend as much as a 3 days budget could be on a 12 day tour.
The dinner was marvelous. We has just had some apple caramble (one slice divided among us three) and then went on to order a parmeson cheese Rissotto, a veg biryani, a veg chowmein and a fruit salad. The bill came for Rs 230 but the experience was priceless. The table we were eating on was under a tree, lit with a dim light. The river was breaking through the rocks on the right side of us and a dog lay on the left with his legs up in the air. You cannot buy a better ambiance. Our new friend wanted to drink wine and the Zen master encouraged it so we went and bought a bottle of Indian wine. It was a celebration. And then he started about his love....
It was the Zen master who instigated it. He pushed and cajoled till our new friend opened up about it. Knowing the way everyone, myself included, shares all their problems with the Zen master, our new friend must have spoken of it before but he started from the very beginning so that I too could know it all. They met in a company trip. They spoke. She was bold, uncharacteristic of her, and he was flirtatious, characteristic of him. They became good friends and at some point he fell in love. But as the Gods of Cinema would have it, he is a Hindu and she is a Muslim. The families came in between and the fated lovers were destined to curb their feelings. She is to be married soon and as I write this post, our new friend speaks with her, long distance -Kasol to Chennai, in the balcony, drunk as much as half a bottle of wine can.
These are the stories cinema is made of ....
I too have a few, but then those are for another day...
later
