Friday, December 12, 2025

Assam – Meghalaya – Nagaland Group Trip

 🌸 Assam – Meghalaya – Nagaland Group Trip.

🪶 Hornbill Festival Special


📅 Nov 29 – Dec 6, 2025

⏱️ 8 Days / 7 Nights


✨ Highlights:

🌺 Kamakhya Temple 







🐘 Kaziranga National Park







🎉 Hornbill Festival, Nagaland






With Lata Mam


Cherry blossom here too... here n there



























Maha Mritunjay temple Nagaon The Temple Inauguration was done by Pran Pratishta Mahotsav, worship (Puja) was stated on 22 Feb and ended on 25 Feb 2021. This Temple is special in its architectural sense as it is built in a form a Shivling. It is the World's largest Shivalinga, at the height of 126 foot.

🌦️ Shillong

💦 Cherrapunji

🌳 Mawlynnong Village

🌊 Dawki River

🇧🇩 Bangladesh Border View

🌿 Living Root Bridge


💰 Trip Cost: Rs. 36,000/- per person

(Stay, Food, Entry Fees, Transport & Guide all included)




📞 Contact Now to Reserve Your Seat:

📱 Latha – 9895900125 (Call)

💬 6382872903 (WhatsApp)


🏕️ Glance of India Tours & Travels, Ernakulam

Flash by David Szalay (60 of 25)

 



Flash by David Szalay,  published in 2025, is David Szalay's sixth novel and winner of the Booker Prize. The story centers on István, a young man whose life is marked by a series of tumultuous events that shape his identity and relationships.  Struggling with social isolation, he becomes involved in a complex and inappropriate relationship with a married woman, which sets off a chain of events that lead to his emotional and psychological turmoil. 


As István navigates his teenage years, he experiences a sexual awakening that leads to juvenile detention after a violent incident involving the woman's husband. Following his release, he serves in the military and later finds himself in various menial jobs. Eventually, he rises to become a wealthy socialite in London, living among the elite. However, despite his financial success, István's personality remains largely unchanged, leading to conflicts within his new family and a sense of disconnection from those around him. 

The novel delves into profound questions about identity, masculinity, and the impact of unresolved trauma. Szalay employs a minimalist writing style, characterized by sparse dialogue and a detached narrative voice that mirrors István's emotional state. Critics have noted that this approach effectively immerses readers in the protagonist's alienation and internal struggles. 

"Flesh" has received mixed reviews, with some praising its lean prose and compelling storytelling, while others criticize the omission of significant life events from István's narrative. The novel's unique narrative style invites readers to engage deeply with the character's experiences, making it a thought-provoking exploration of modern masculinity and the complexities of human relationships. 

In summary, "Flesh" is a powerful exploration of a man's life shaped by trauma and the search for connection, set against the backdrop of contemporary society. Szalay's work challenges readers to reflect on the nature of existence and the forces that drive human behavior.

The style is sparse and austere, yet dramatic. More than what is said is what is unsaid. If you think of it, it is a very clever and very difficult way to write and to convey the story with all its nuances. 

Quiet, taciturn, his life is unravelled, through good and bad phases by events beyond his control. The apathy of modernity and the futility of the war on terror are brilliantly displayed, in minimalistic style. The good phase even includes a spell in the uber elite space of London.

It is quite unlike any other book I have read. A profound novel that follows the life of István, a Hungarian man, from adolescence to middle age, exploring themes of trauma, masculinity, and alienation.


Monday, December 08, 2025

The Elsewhereans ~ Jeet Thayil 59 of 25


 As I started reading 




Elsewherians by Jeet thayil   it reminded me of Moor's last sigh because of the journey  from Kerala to Bombay, but on to the second chapter, realised that the similarity ended there. The book had much more to it.

The book is filled with poetic language,  intersting new words, places, people and food. Jeet traces his families journey from Kerala to Bombay, Bihar, Vietnam, Hong Kong, New York and back to Mumbai, Bangalore and Kerala. So the title. Beginning with how his father T.J.S George proposed Ammu, wrote letters from US which she preserved, he wanting a marriage outside church but heeds to the family request, his journey towards becoming the top journalist & first one to be arrested in independent India for criticising government in Bihar. Along with Mike they start Asiaweek, which  is sold to Times who dissolve it and start Time Asia. Most of what his father did in public is known.  He does mention about how he was as a person at home and as father and husband. 

Behind the successful man was his mother buying and building home, managing relationships with heart rooted to her 'home', being all the places she had lived in.

Few other interesting points to ponder in the book were:

1.Writer means you are poor and you are 'thief'.

2.Where we are really from is where we are going now.

3. To know history,  is to know loss and the displaced knows it the best.

4. On why poetry? It shows me there is a world beyond our poor village. ..Knowing it is there will make me a better man.

5. Among crowds of people of every race and religion,  she knows internationalisam as the true nationalism and freedom as the only patriotism. 

6. To wait is to give up. Better to risk everything,  than do nothing. 

7. Movement. Movement is God's message. ~ Migration of Mary, Joseph,  Jesus.

8. You're born, you're young and you marry. Make your own family.  Then everything goes one by one. Your health goes. Everyone you love dies. What kind of bargain is that?

There is narrations and chapters dedicated to other members of the family as well. Touching ones being that of aphorisms, 'No one is to be blamed', lockdown, Corona, flood, failed Marriages and uncles love and French connection. 


Having just re-read Em and the big Hoom and this years book by Arundhati Roy Mother Mary this too is about the author writing about his parents and calling the book a fiction. While Em and the big Hoom went in a story like flow and was confined  to parents,  Mother Mary had lot of Arundhati's own story and personal ventures and this is a different kind of narration all together. As the author writes in a chapter about Earth/life, this book too is like the Suez Canal, this is a mental waterbody, more than a physical one. Connecting. The common factor in these three books is the mother child relation/bond written after the loss of mother and each father being different. 

Here the story begins and ends with the river 'Muvattupuzha'. The river that becomes the sea, the ocean, that will forever remind him of her.


‐-------


Nandakishore Sir's review 


The Elsewhereans: a Documentary Novel


by Jeet Thayil


    //I hear a question these days, people asking: Where are you from? The reply is always one or two words, always inaccurate. Nobody is from one place.//


We are all migrants.


Humanity migrated out of Africa in prehistoric times and spread throughout the world. In those days, there were no fictitious entities like nation states, borders, passports or visas. The earth, all of it, belonged to all living beings equally. Nobody came from 'elsewhere'.


It changed, of course. As we grew 'civilised', we divided up the earth and erected boundaries. And parcelled off small bits of land for ourselves. The people who crossed the border legally were 'expatriates': those who did so illegally were 'encroachers' or 'invaders'.


The creation of 'elsewhere' was complete.


***


We Malayalis (natives of the state of Kerala in Southern India) are known for our globe-trotting habits. "There is a Malayali in every corner of the world" is a popular saying in India. There is a famous joke that when Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon, he found a Malayali selling tea and snacks there.


Jeet Thayyil's parents, the famous journalist T. J. S. George and his wife Ammu, are already migrants (first within India, and then outside it) even before the travel bug has really bitten the Keralite. They settle in Bombay (now Mumbai) as outsiders; when they return to Kerala, they are still outsiders.


    //There is no sense of belonging or welcome. They’ve lived Elsewhere too long: they’ve become Elsewhereans.//


This book is a collection of the disjointed reminiscences of the author, as well as the fictionalised reminiscences of his parents and relatives. The one common theme binding them as they flit across time and space, is migration. Whether it be the journalist settling abroad as part of his profession or the gardener walking across a Covid-struck India to his faraway homeland or the penniless refugee grubbing in the dirt to make a living, they share something common - the great Elsewhere.


    //In the pageantry of the island, unfolding district by district, Ammu experiences Elsewhere as a spiritual calling. Among crowds of people of every race and religion, she knows internationalism as the true nationalism and freedom as the only patriotism.// 


Jeet's family, including himself, comes across as pretty dysfunctional, comprising brilliant but troubled people. Of course, the author warns us in the beginning that the story is only partially true; but that is the case with all biographies. They are part truth, part false memory, part lies. But whatever be the veracity, the story is compelling. And the language is poetic.


Towards the end of the book, Ammu has an epiphany:


    //Now it seems to Ammu she has no home, for home is no longer a city or a country and the people in them, but the rooms of the houses in which she’s lived. The big bedroom she shared with her sisters at Anniethottam. The teacher’s quarters, two cots to a room, in Alwaye. The small front room in Mahim that served as both living and dining room, the city outside, just steps away from the floor she shared with her new husband. The balcony that ran the length of the apartment by the Arabian Sea on Cadell Road. The front room of the apartment at Pataliputra Housing Colony that became a meeting place for students. She’d taken care of the children there while George was in jail. The small living room of the apartment in Shirin Building, near Navy Nagar in Colaba. The bedroom of their first apartment in Hong Kong, at Arts Mansion. The kitchen of the second on McDonnell Road, where she thought of tearing into a hundred pieces the picture of the Vietnamese woman. The view from the apartment in New York, twelve floors up, of the canyons of Seventy-Ninth and York. Sirens at any hour of the night. The large front room of the first apartment she bought in Bombay. A six-inch view of the sea. Palm trees outside the fourth-floor window. The sunken living room of the first house they owned in Bangalore. The sunlit bedroom and garden of the second. The jackfruit tree and the butter fruit.


    The remembered rooms unfold in her mind like pictures from an album with sheets of tissue between the pages. They bring vivid sensations that leave her grateful and surprised. She traces herself through the rooms of her life, opening seamlessly one into another, forward and back. So, on a rainy day in Mamalassery, when she steps indoors from the porch, it is to the cold muted light of a northern country. It seems correct then that these memories have lost their sting and can no longer cause hurt or happiness. They are only receptacles to return to her the past.//


We are our memories - 'true' and 'false' have no meaning. Neither has space and time. It's one continuous experience, the transitory soul, the anatman, changing from moment to moment. A human being is not an entity but a process which unfolds in time. And 'Elsewhere' is an illusion.

Saturday, December 06, 2025

Nafisa Ali


 NAFISA ALI(WISHING HER SPEEDY RECOVERY) 


Nafisa Ali has gone through so many phases in her life that it almost feels like she has lived three different stories. When she was young, she had this natural brightness — winning Miss India in 1976, doing a few films, and becoming a familiar face without even trying too hard. She wasn’t the typical “doing everything for fame” kind of actress. She came across simple, confident, and honestly quite real for that time.


As years passed, she didn’t stick to only movies. She tried a bit of everything — sports, family life, social work, even politics for a while. In her middle years she looked peaceful, settled, and more focused on things outside the industry. People liked her because she never pretended to be something she wasn’t.


Now, seeing her as a cancer fighter… it hits differently. She posts pictures with her shaved head and that soft smile, and somewhere you can feel both strength and tiredness in her face. It doesn’t look like she’s trying to impress anyone — just sharing her truth. And that honesty makes her journey even more powerful.


From a young beauty queen to a respected actress and now a brave survivor, Nafisa Ali’s life has been full of ups and downs, but she’s still standing, still fighting, and still inspiring people without making any noise about it.

It Didn't Go...Indigo story


 

I’ve spent years flying, and the sky has quietly taught me more about life and work than I ever expected.  There’s something about being 3,000 ft above the noise that makes the important things obvious 🛩️

1. Small inputs change everything.


A few millimetres on the controls can shift your entire direction.
In life too, small, steady adjustments beat dramatic moves.

2. Trust the instruments.


When things get shaky, emotion is the worst advisor. Pilots rely on their instruments; founders should rely on data.

3. Turbulence isn’t danger.


It’s uncomfortable, not catastrophic.
Most problems feel bigger than they are because we overreact.

4. Crosswinds happen.


You don’t fight them, you correct gently and keep moving.
Most of life is controlled drift with good decisions at the right moments.

5. The runway is longer than you think.


It always feels like you’re running out of room.
But there’s usually more margin than your mind believes.

6. Altitude fixes perspective.


What feels massive on the ground shrinks once you climb. Zooming out can change your perspective.

When an Airline Forgets to Fly Right

The IndiGo fiasco was not an accident. When a player becomes dominant—almost monopolistic—an invisible arrogance enters the system. It shows up first in tone, then in culture, then in operations, and finally in public humiliation. IndiGo went through all those phases, and everyone saw it coming except—ironically—IndiGo itself.

For years, the airline was trained to be arrogant.  You could see it at the airport counters, where ground staff spoke to passengers as though they were doing them a favour by checking them in. You could feel it when a traveller asked about a delay and received a cold, templated response. You could sense it when announcements of delays were mumbled into the microphone as though communication was optional.

India Standard Time (IST) became IndiGo Standard Time.

Passengers who arrived three minutes late to the gate were denied boarding—but passengers waited three hours for late aircraft with no apology. Policy was a sword when passengers erred; efficiency was an excuse when the airline failed.

That asymmetry tells the story.

A part of this comes from being stretched thin—staffing to the minimum, pushing schedules harder, asking more from pilots and crew than an institution should. A part of it also came from squeezing the orange too hard. IndiGo had one objective inflight: profits, quarter after quarter, route dominance year after year. Nothing wrong with profits—until the system begins running on fumes.

Culture communicates in whispers before it explodes in headlines.

There was another factor that many industry watchers quietly observed: IndiGo seemed to master the press narrative. When Air India had a delay, it would become a high-decibel event. When IndiGo did, it often disappeared after a headline or two. Somewhere, the playing field did not feel symmetrical.

But you cannot play perception forever. Pilots are human. Crew fatigue is real.  When pilot work-life balance becomes secondary, when regulators stretch relaxations to accommodate operations, when efficiency is repeatedly bought at the cost of well-being, something must break.

And it broke earlier than most expected.

There is a lesson beyond aviation here.

A system that squeezes its orange too hard extracts juice faster—but dries the fruit sooner. IndiGo  believed the orange was infinite.

The lesson is simple: Efficiency cannot replace empathy.Domination cannot substitute dignity.
And profits cannot outrun fatigue.

Today’s fiasco is not just an airline story.

It is a reminder that in any organisation—when people become resources, when time becomes a weapon, and when success becomes entitlement—the fall is only a matter of when, not whether.

IndiGo will recover. It will fly again and perhaps regain punctuality. But if it does not fix the culture that created this moment, it will carry turbulence long after the skies clear.

When Regulators Wink… 


In the first part, we saw how IndiGo is a cautious tale of ‘how not to operate’. An airline that flew on arrogance, structure without soul, and operational discipline minus sensitivity. Today, we look at how there were others—more powerful, more responsible, and far more accountable—who took us all for a ride. 


Like where was DGCA in all this?


The regulator is not there to mail circulars, but must enforce them. Were the signs of the impending collapse not visible in the weeks running up to the catastrophe? Did the regulator follow up on implementing new guidelines? If other airlines could fall in line, and Indigo did not, wasn’t DGCA to have stepped in? And now comes the special exemption? For what reason? The DGCA has to be a watchdog of the citizens, not a stenographer to the industry, or in this case to a company. 


Regulation is a duty. Passengers do not read compliance reports. They live through the outcomes: delayed flights, mismanaged crew, chaotic airports, and helpless, albeit, ground staff. Was it not DGCA’s mandate to track fleet induction timelines, staffing patterns, and capacity-to-demand ratios? Was it not their responsibility to ask hard questions when an airline was clearly playing rogue. In this case, silence is complicity.


And what about the Civil Aviation Ministry? This government is quick to claim airports built by private firms as its trophies. But governance is not about photo-op inaugurations; governance is about vigilance. Why didn’t the ministry could have intervened, demanded transparency and ensured accountability? A government that claims administrative sophistication cannot fail at basic oversight.


Airlines is not a sector one can casually overlook. India today is flying on the back of a newly mobile middle class. For millions, air travel is not luxury—it is employment, healthcare, emergency travel, and family responsibility. This makes aviation a lifeline. Which brings us to the deeper question no one is formally asking: What exactly is happening inside IndiGo?


Is this only operational strain—or is there a deeper internal fracture? Are large players positioning themselves for advantage? Indigo must be careful lest it go up for grabs, citing ‘national interest.’


When the dominant airline in a country shakes the consequences are serious. Customer sentiment destabilizes.  India needs airlines that perform, regulators who supervise, and ministries that govern—not cheerlead. This is not about punishing companies; it is about preventing crisis. Accountability is not vengeance; it is insurance.


The Indian flyer deserves better. And the first step toward better is acknowledging that while IndiGo stumbled, those meant to ensure its steadiness were busy looking elsewhere.

A regulator that reacts is not a regulator. A ministry that pats itself for success but fails to notice fire signals is not a steward. India’s aviation needs institutions that fly higher than the aircraft they oversee.


<Concluded> ~Pattabhiram  Sir

The Indigo mess has exposed something ugly — not just in the system, but in us.

1. We are brave only at home. If this crisis had unfolded at Heathrow or JFK, every stranded Indian would have quietly queued up, swallowed the pain, and behaved. But here, we suddenly discover courage in mobs. We are bullies.

2. Our outrage is selective. If Indian Railways cancelled hundreds of trains, it wouldn’t trend for 48 hours. Media doesn’t travel by sleeper class anymore. The railway passenger is reduced to the ‘cattle class’ stereotype. Empathy ends where discomfort begins for elites.

3. Those who failed in Indigo, DGCA, and the government remain unnamed. But the staff at the counters suffer public humiliation. These frontline workers didn’t design the system, didn’t cause the crisis, don’t have real answers nor in control of the situation nor have the solution. Yet they absorb every insult from entitled passengers. They deserve applause, not abuse.

4. Look at airfares during the chaos — Bengaluru return tickets crossed ₹1 lakh. That wasn’t pricing. It was profiteering. When systems collapse, the market becomes a vulture.

5. Before we crucify airlines, can we calculate how much money the government extracts through GST, fuel taxes, airport charges, and regulatory fees — versus what airlines actually retain? If someone did that arithmetic, the narrative would be very different.

This crisis didn’t just show operational failure — it showed who we really are as a society: entitled indoors, submissive abroad, apathetic to the invisible traveller, and blind to structural greed. The only people who walked out with dignity were the lowest-paid employees - the ones we shouted at.

~ Peri Maheshwar


Monopolies crumble when accountability is absent. The current aviation chaos is a wake-up call: Price caps must be enforced, guidelines must be respected, and the Indian passenger deserves the same protection as their global counterparts. Public interest must always supersede profit.

~ Shashi Tharoor

Friday, December 05, 2025

The School of Life ~ Dr.K Vasuki, IAS 58 of 25


 

The School of Life by Dr.K Vasuki, IAS is a 440-page memoir/Self Help book published by DC Books. It covers four decades of her personal and professional experiences, philosophically exploring the challenges and realisations that have shaped her life and career. She take readers on an introspective journey with her narration.  The book reflects on universal questions such as the purpose of life, the pursuit of happiness and the pressures of modern consumerist living. It urges a shift towards holistic health and sustainable well-being.


The book talks about happiness,  ambition,  greed, ego, human mind, ego, climate change, nature, health and much more. In a nutshell everything that affects life and living so the title. 

Book asks us to break the cycle, bubble, addiction. Invest in real relations. To take care of our body by bringing order in our life and vice versa. To bring self awareness and understanding that the penultimate origin of every problem in this world is the human ego. The egoic mind.