कई चांद थे सरे-आस्मां (Kai Chaand Thhe Sare-Aasman)

अभी कुछ दिन हुये, शम्सुर्रहमान फ़ारूक़ी लिखित (और नरेश नदीम द्वारा अनुवादित) उपन्यास - "कई चांद थे सरे-आस्मां" में डूब कर निकला हूं|

डूबना यों कि आजकल जहां ज्यादातर हिंदी उपन्यास और कहानियों में कथानक और भाषा का एक अकाल सा है, वहां यह वृहद उपन्यास एक रसपूर्ण कथानक को अलंकृत भाषा के कलेवर में बहुत ख़ूबसूरती से समेटे हुये - जैसा कि ओरहान पामुक कहते हैं - एक 'अद्भुत' उपन्यास है| बहुत समय बाद किसी हिन्दी उपन्यास को पढ् कर यूं लगा मानो गहरे पानी में जा कर भाषा और भावनाओं के अनमोल मोती निकाल लाया हूं,  क्यूंकि फ़ारूक़ी साहब ने महीन बातों को, भावनाओं को ख़ूब पकड़ा है और शुष्क एतिहासिक तथ्यों को परिकल्पना और जानकारी के आधार पर पुष्ट ही नहीं, और अधिक जीवंत और स्पंदित कर दिया है|

७०० पृष्ठों का यह उपन्यास उन्नीसवीं सदी की दिल्ली की एक वास्तविक, एतिहासिक पात्र - वज़ीर ख़ानम - की कहानी है| वज़ीर कश्मीर से दिल्ली आ कर बसे एक परिवार की सबसे छोटी लाडली है जो एक तेज़ दिमाग़ रखती है और महत्वाकांक्षी है| वह कम उम्र में ही कुछ तो अपने हुस्न और नारी-शरीर की ताक़त का अहसास कर के और कुछ शायद लड़कपन की झोंक में यह कहने का दम रखती है कि "शाहजादा तक़दीर में लिखा होगा तो आयेगा ही| नहीं तो न सही| मुझे जो मर्द चाहेगा उसे चखूंगी, पसंद आयेगा तो रखूंगी| नहीं तो निकाल बाहर करूंगी|" पर सच ही, आगे उसकी ज़िंदगी में जो मर्द आते हैं, उसी की शर्तों पर - हां, यह बात ज़रूर है कि फिर वह उस से पूरा ईमानदार प्यार पाते हैं| (बताता चलूं कि यह वज़ीर ख़ानम मशहूर शायर नवाब मिर्ज़ा 'दाग़ देहलवी' की मां हैं, दाग़ के पिता लुहारू नवाब के ख़ानदान के थे)|

इस मुख्य कथानक के अलावा इस किताब की खासियत यह है कि फारूक़ी साहब ने कहानी कहते कहते अपना घोड़ा मर्ज़ी के मैदान में बेतहाशा दौड़ने दिया है| तो पाठक के लिये कहीं एक तरफ़ कश्मीर के कालीनों के रंग और धागे हैं तो दूसरी ओर दिल्ली के नामी शायरों के मतले और मक़्ते; एक और वज़ीर ख़ानम की दम रोक देने वाली ख़ूबसूरती है तो दूसरी ओर ठगों की जानलेवा हुश्यारियां; एक ओर राजपूताने की रेत का रंग हैं तो दूसरी ओर लाल क़िले के संगमरमर; एक ओर अंग्रेजी चालबाजियां हैं तो दूसरी ओर पुरानी दिल्लीवालों की दिलदारी....

ज्यादा नहीं कहूंगा - बहुत दिनों बाद कमाल की चीज़ आई है..पढ़िये!

आज़ादी - हफ़ीज़ जालंधरी

आज जब देश आज़ादी की सड़सठवीं सालगिरह मना रहा है, मैं फिर अपने अंदर आशा और निराशा का एक तराजू पकड़े हुए समय को तौलने की कोशिश कर रहा हूँ. मैं यह निश्चय नहीं कर पाता कि हमारी आज़ादी कितनी और किन मायनों में सफल साबित हो पाई है. 

राजनीति के दिन-ब-दिन बढ़ते घपले, कॉर्पोरेट जगत का अंधा बाजारवाद, खेल के मैदानों मे पैसे की मारा-मारी, एंटेरटेनमेन्ट के नये बनते मापदंड, शासकीय और राजकीय उपेक्षा झेलता आम आदमी - इस सब नाटक को देख कर कभी कभी ऐसा लगता है कि हिन्दुस्तान में कुछ बारह - पंद्रह हजार लोगों का ऐसा  एक गिरोह है जिसके लिये हम सब इनकी सुविधानुसार और समयानुसार कभी दर्शक हो जाते हैं, कभी वोटर, कभी नौकरी मांगने वाले, कभी कन्सयूमरिस्ट मिडल क्लास या कभी कुछ और. पर जो कुछ भी होते  हैं, जाने-अनजाने रहते इनके रहम-ओ-क़रम पर ही हैं.

इस सब के चलते मुझे हफीज़ जालंधरी साहब की मशहूर रचना - आज़ादी- याद हो आई जो, मुझे लगता है, हमारे इस वक़्त का सही आईना है. यह रचना बहुत से ब्लॉगस् पर है, पर अपने यहां साझा करने का लोभ-संवरण नहीं कर पाया . कविता पढ़िये. और हां, स्वतंत्रता दिवस की बधाई!  - 

शेरों को आज़ादी है आज़ादी के पाबंद रहें

जिसको चाहें चीरें फाड़ें खायें पियें आनंद रहें

शाहीं को आज़ादी है आज़ादी से परवाज़ करे
नन्‍ही मुन्‍नी चिडियों पर जब चाहे मश्‍क़े-नाज़ करे

सांपों को आज़ादी है हर बस्‍ते घर में बसने की
इनके सर में ज़हर भी है और आदत भी है डसने की  

पानी में आज़ादी है घड़ियालों और नहंगों को
जैसे चाहें पालें पोसें अपनी तुंद उमंगों को

इंसां ने भी शोखी सीखी वहशत के इन रंगों से
शेरों, संपों, शाहीनों, घड़ियालों और नहंगों से

इंसान भी कुछ शेर हैं बाक़ी भेड़ों की आबादी है
भेड़ें सब पाबंद हैं लेकिन शेरों को आज़ादी है  

शेर के आगे भेड़ें क्‍या हैं इक मनभाता खाजा है
बाक़ी सारी दुनिया परजा शेर अकेला राजा है

भेड़ें लातादाद हैं लेकिन सबको जान के लाले हैं
इनको यह तालीम मिली है भेड़िये ताक़त वाले हैं  

मास भी खायें खाल भी नोचें हरदम लागू जानों के
भेड़ें काटें दौरे-ग़ुलामी बल पर गल्‍लाबानों के  

भेडि़यों से गोया क़ायम अमन है इस आबादी का
भेड़ें जब तक शेर न बन लें नाम न लें आज़ादी का

इंसानों में सांप बहुत हैं क़ातिल भी ज़हरीले भी
इनसे बचना मुश्किल है, आज़ाद भी हैं फुर्तीले भी  

सांप तो बनना मुश्किल है इस ख़स्‍लत से माज़ूर हैं हम
मंतर जानने वालों की मुहताजी पर मजबूर हैं हम

शाहीं भी हैं चिड़ियाँ भी हैं इंसानों की बस्‍ती में
वह नाज़ा अपनी रिफ़अत पर यह नालां अपनी पस्‍ती में

शाहीं को तादीब करो या चिड़ियों को शाहीन करो
यूं इस बाग़े-आलम में आज़ादी की तलक़ीन करो  

बहरे-जहां में ज़ाहिर-ओ-पिनहां इंसानी घड़ियाल भी हैं
तालिबे-जानओजिस्‍म भी हैं शैदाए-जान-ओ-माल भी हैं  

यह इंसानी हस्‍ती को सोने की मछली जानते हैं
मछली में भी जान है लेकिन ज़ालिम कब गर्दानते हैं  

सरमाये का जि़क्र करो मज़दूरों की इनको फ़िक्र नहीं
मुख्‍तारी पर मरते हैं मजबूरों की इनको फ़िक्र नहीं

आज यह किसका मुंह है आये मुंह सरमायादारों के
इनके मुंह में दांत नहीं फल हैं ख़ूनी तलवारों के  

खा जाने का कौन सा गुर है जो इन सबको याद नहीं
जब तक इनको आज़ादी है कोई भी आज़ाद नहीं  

ज़र का बंदा अक़्ल-ओ-ख़िरद पर जितना चाहे नाज़ करे
ज़ैरे-ज़मीं धंस जाये या बालाए-फ़लक परवाज़ करे

इसकी आज़ादी की बातें सारी झूठी बातें हैं
मज़दूरों को मजबूरों को खा जाने की घातें हैं  

जब तक चोरों-राहज़नों का डर दुनिया पर ग़ालिब है  
पहले मुझसे बात करे जो आज़ादी का तालिब है.

Big Five and the Burj Khalifa - 3 - Dubai Diary

This is the 3rd and last part of the 3-part travel diary "Big Five and the Burj Khalifa", featuring Dubai. You can read Part-1 here and Part-2 here.


A Platter of Skyscrapers & Flowers in the Desert 
I am standing in  front of our hotel on  Sheikh Zayed Road. Fresh off the flight from Nairobi, the contrast is striking - in place of nature's bounty we left behind in Kenya, here in front of us is a modern, man-made marvel of a city.
There is a row of skyscrapers of various shapes and sizes gleaming in the morning sun,  reflecting a stream of shiny cars whizzing past. Later in the evening, when we are standing at the beach, the famed Dubai skyline is replete with all kinds of skyscrapers, the most famous among them being the Burj Khalifa. 

Dubai Skyline

Our hotel has 65 floors and while I look down from our 41st floor room, I think I might not recommend Dubai to someone suffering from acrophobia.   

Panel of elevator buttons in our hotel 

 Along the road runs an excellently maintained, elevated metro-rail. The flyovers are beautifully painted in golden yellow, unlike the shabby concrete colored ones back home. There are neat rows of flowers blooming and lush grass carpet at some traffic intersection beneath the metro. I am told that the shiploads of fertile subsoil needed for flowers is imported from Holland. 
Many times during the two days I am here, I get the feeling that I am in the midst of a shiny tourist brochure of some city in future.    

Dubai came in to prosperity in the early seventies when oil was discovered here but it is in the last two and a half decades that it has really blossomed as a business, tourism and shopping centre of the world. 
The reason for this is clear as we roam about the city - the rulers have a vision and the will and enterprise to implement it. It helps, of course, that this is a constitutional monarchy. And also, that there is a faceless army of expats who toil behind the general store counters, metro counters, in schools, behind taxi steering wheels, in construction fields, wherever.   

The miniskirt and the abaya 
We have just come out of the hotel for some morning coffee when we see a couple of young girls getting out of a car. The girls are both clad in miniskirts. Miniskirts? Out on the street in the United Arab Emirates? I am surprised.  
Moving inside the coffee shop, I find myself queuing up behind a young girl clad in the traditional  abaya - loose black robe from head to toe - with only her face visible.  
Which is the real Dubai, I ask myself. 
In the two days we are there, I see that Dubai, which has Islam as its official religion, has achieved a comfortable juxtaposition of the miniskirt and the abaya to become a true cosmopolitan city-country. People from all over the world come here as tourists and for work, and Dubai accommodates all religious and social identities with confidence and aplomb, worthy of a mature state. 

The world's shopping mall
That Dubai is a shopper's paradise was not unknown to me. What I never imagined was the sheer scale and magnificence at which Dubai shops. 
Wikipedia lists 69 shopping malls in Dubai, but the list does not tell the whole story. Each of the mall is an island of cornucopia with the best brands from around the world vying for the shoppers' attention.   
With only a day and a half on our hands, we get a chance to visit three - Dubai Mall, Mall of the Emirates and the Ibn Batuta Mall. 
Dubai Mall is the world's largest mall, with around 1200 stores, stretching along various levels and arms. It provides entrance to Burj Khalifa, and hosts magnificent Dubai Fountain.

Atrium in the Dubai Mall

Mall of the Emirates is the original shopping destination, and it seemed to me that it houses  exclusive brands. 

Mall of Emirates

Ibn Batuta Mall is a beautiful, themed shopping mall, based on the travels of famous Arab traveller Ibn Batuta. Ibn Batuta lived in the fourteenth century in Morocco and in the 30 years he travelled, he covered pretty much the whole world. 
This mall has different sections designed as the various places he visited. I wish we had more time to explore all the sections. 

Persia, in the Ibn Batuta Mall

At the top of the world..well almost.
Burj Khalifa strikingly demonstrates the power and beauty of superlatives in the modern world. It is a 163-floor building, the tallest in the world, and houses hotels, offices, residential apartments.      

Dubai markets all its attractions well. Burj Khalifa offers a chance to look out on the city from its 124th floor observation deck, and we realise this is probably the highest we would be able to get to on the Terra firma, bar the Everest. We decide to ride up and are able to get tickets for the 10pm slot.
We return in the night to join a queue, which passes through a succession of sleek galleries lined with attractive visuals about this modern architectural marvel to be finally let in to a plush elevator.
The adage of a journey being even more enjoyable than the destination is proved correct, as the elevator doors are shut. The walls are lined with moving visuals, emitting a bluish light within and soft music fills the cubicle. As the elevator starts its approx 1-minute journey upwards at a speed of 10mtrs per second and our ears start popping, the tempo of music slowly increases to match our rising excitement and reaches a crescendo, when the doors open to reveal a bejeweled Dubai glittering beneath our feet, beyond the glass walls of the observation desk.

From The Observation Deck

As we soak in the beauty of the scene below - streaks of lights of the traffic, gleaming rows of Dubai fountain, Burj Al Arab, our hotel, the Palm in the distance - we once again admire the bravado of the vision which has produced this feat - the Burj, and also this city called Dubai. 

And in the end - the wailing baby

It is the day we are flying out. Far behind us in the queue is a woman travelling with her baby. While she is trying to manage her luggage, her baby starts wailing uncontrollably.  When the wailing and her discomfort continues, the stern  official at the counter gets up to see what the commotion is about.

It seems to us that he is visibly irritated, as some of us are too. 

However, he calls out to someone and the mother and the baby are escorted to the counter, ahead of everybody else to be cleared on  priority. The queue resumes. 

We are back home the next day.

Big Five and the Burj Khalifa - 2 - Wildlife Diary

This is the 2nd part of the 3-part travel diary "Big Five and the Burj Khalifa", featuring the wildlife in Kenya. You can read Part-1 here and Part-3 here.

Tamed in the city
Nairobi has some wildlife parks right in the city, possibly to prepare the uninitiated for the wonders that lay beyond. One such is the Nairobi Safari Walk & Animal Orphanage, which we visit on the last evening of our stay.
The place is steeply priced for us foreigners. But the thought of exorbitant admission charges for the foreigners at Tajmahal serves as a sobering context.   
We are let in to an expansive, well-kept zoo, with winding wooden walkaways through the enclosures & cages.  

The Wooden Walkaway

Hyenas look at us across the fence with curiosity while the white rhino sleeps on, ignoring us completely.
    

The Curious Hyena

The Sleeping White Rhino

The albino zebras munch on nonchalantly, as do the giraffes.   

Albino Zebras

Giraffe, of course!

Lions talk to us through the glass partition, while the Colobus monkeys chatter incoherently.

Keshav & the Lioness in intense dialogue 

Colobus Monkey

The cheetah sleeps too far away in the bushes for us to see but there are gazelles, crocodiles, ostriches. wildebeests, birds. Many of these animals and birds are rescued from being orphaned, injured or extinct. 
Having primed thus, we can not wait to be in the wild.  

The Great Rift Valley & Nameless General Store  
As we leave Nairobi for Masai Mara, the road winds down the mountains and before hitting the planes, we oversee the Great Rift Valley - a vast expanse of green lined by mountains.

The Great Rift Valley

The Great Rift valley is the name given to a geographical trench stretching a mind-boggling 9600kms from Israel to Mozambique, as Coke dutifully informs us. Look closely at the map in the photograph below and you can see it dropping down from Ethiopia and sliding down over the horn to reach Kenya and then Mozambique.

As I resolve to look up the details on the Wikipedia, I realise how the vastness of nature humbles us. I also suddenly recall the National Geographic gene mapping project, which has established Africa as the place from where the human species originated. I have a strange feeling of having established a lost connection with our collective past, a sort of completing the circle of life.... Why am I getting these goose-pimples?  

When we hit the plains, the road is lined mostly with villages and some towns few and far in between. If the names are any indication, the villages are deeply religious - a large number of shops and small businesses along the highway are named after biblical virtues like Beauty, Grace, Joy, Honesty et al. I do actually see a lot of churches (and an odd temple too). 
There is one shop despairingly named as "Nameless General Store". What is this about, I wonder - atheism or plain laziness?  

Lions and Warriors 
Masai Mara, the world famous game reserve, home to the Big Five, carries its world-wide reputation lightly. 
As we turn south-west from the town of Narok after around 3 hours drive from Nairobi, the road turns to gravel, and then disappears altogether. After a while, we are driving through a jungle of mostly grass, short trees, intercepted by small streams and brooks. It is slightly hot (the vehicles have no air-conditioning) and in between the trees, we catch a flash of red, which turns out to be a cowherd draped in a bright red chequered shawl. 

The Masai Cowherd in Signature Red of the Masai  Tribe

Slowly, the big trees give way to a land clearing leading to a big gate. At one side is a group of  women draped in bright colours, who run towards us with their wares. Beyond the gate we get a glimpse of a zebra, which is grazing next to buffalo skulls lined up like trophies. We have arrived at Masai  Mara Game Reserve.

Masai Mara takes its name from "Masai" - the ancient hunter tribe which inhabits this area. They are fierce, nomadic warriors and it is said that lions do not attack Masai people.
"Mara" means "mottled" or "spotted" and refers to vegetation pattern of the area. 
Big Five is part of an hunters' lexicon of the yore, referring to the five most fierce and dangerous animals to hunt - the Lion, African Elephant, Buffalo, Rhinoceros and Leopard.

The game reserve itself is a vast undulating grassland - an expanse of green merging in the horizon with the azure blue of the skies or the dark green of the mountains. 

Perched inside our safari vehicles, it seems we are in the midst of an animation movie, with all the animals lined up on a single wide canvas. 
There is a herd of wildebeests munching on one side. 

On the other side are zebras, with their stripes looking almost hand-painted, with a backdrop of gazelles.

We stop to let a tower (yes, that's what a group is called) of giraffes pass; watching giraffes walk is a surreal sight, like these tall animals are moonwalking.

Buffaloes hold their famous "whatsup" stare with us, while elephants are not concerned.

We furiously click our cameras, wishing to capture the spirit of what our naked eyes see and our hearts feel, unsuccessfully. In the two safaris we take while in Masai Mara, there are a lot of animals and birds we get a chance to watch in their natural habitat.  

But the stars of the show are indisputably the lions. The moment the wireless radios crackle with the news of a lion sighting, all other animals are promptly forgotten and all vehicles converge upon the spot to make the most of the moment. 

  
A lion truly is a magnificent animal and as we watch, holding our breath, we come to realise what does it mean being in a royal attendance.

His Highness

  In our safari the next morning, we meet the family.

The Morning Scent

 

In the night, at our lodge in the midst of the jungle, we are invited to watch the feeding of wild animals. As the attendant puts raw meat in the centre of the clearing, we see a hyena, a jackal and cats standing, poised to fight each other for the biggest share. As he withdraws, the matter is sorted out in minutes, and there remains an eerie silence on the scene.

Masai Mara is nature at its serene best, largely unsullied by us human beings. Animals proudly and justifiably own the space, graciously allowing us to have a peep in to their world. As we leave, we carry a lot of memories of this world in photographs, and a lot more in our minds. 

Next - Dubai  
Previous - Nairobi

Big Five and the Burj Khalifa - 1 - Nairobi Diary

Last month I visited Kenya and Dubai on an official trip. This is a 3-part diary, containing some experiences and observations.

Zero Degree

As we get off the plane at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, Nairobi, I realize with a surprise how green it is - green and pleasant. 

For some inexplicable reason, I have been imagining the whole of Africa to be hot and harsh. After all, it lies bang on the equator. Nairobi is just 1 degree south of equator. But the temperature in Nairobi is a wonderful 25 to 30 degree Celsius almost all the year round. It is at a slightly high altitude but as we are told, rest of Kenya is also equally pleasant.    

The British Connection

Kenya was liberated from the British in 1963. I am not a sociologist but seems the British effect has not entirely worn off.

Downtown Nairobi & the buildings are beautifully styled in European manner, people on the streets from all walks of life wear suits regularly and I suspect English is spoken and understood more than Swahili -the official language. Of course, that might also be because there are 43 different tribes in Kenya, all having their different languages and English makes a useful bridge. 

Downtown Nairobi

The soccer craze  also seems an important remnant. The day we check in to the hotel,  fans of two rival teams are out on the roads. Groups of blue and green clad young men and women are singing and dancing, chanting their team cries and stamping their feet. They are  cheering their home teams and mocking the opposite team - one young man holds a clucking and flapping hen, presumably a revered bird to the rivals. The revelry ends with the police being called and the fans dispersing. 

Soccer Banter

We are like that only

I am pleasantly surprised to see very orderly traffic on Nairobi roads, even on the highway. My "pucca" Indian (read feudal) instinct always told me that good manners were the prerogatives of rich countries, which Kenya is not.
But people are well-behaved on the roads, far better than what we see here in India. We traveled 700 kms on the road and I do not find a single instance where the pedestrian and cycling lane (yes they have them on the highways too, adjoining the villages and towns) being  intruded upon, not even when a long line of cars is waiting to approach the airport. All through the journey, our driver keeps to his speed-limit, so obviously frustrating to us 'Dilliwalas'. Our growing economy and development notwithstanding, I wonder when we will be able to sort out our horrible traffic mess.
While on the traffic, I do not find many new cars - either in downtown or on the highway. There are lots of motorcycle taxis though lined up at the village squares. The drivers all wear fluorescent jackets, and lounge around on their vehicles waiting for the customers, which could be some old lady carrying a pail of potatoes or a young man fiddling with a mobile phone.

Indians in Nairobi

There are a lot of Indians in Nairobi, some of them here for three generations, their ancestors brought here in the British Raj to work for the Railways and the plantations two centuries ago.  Today, Indians seem to be well settled and respected in Kenya as shrewd businessmen, who provide employment and pay reasonably well. 
Moving in to the city from the airport, we are greeted with large signboards of Indian companies – Tata, Ashok Leyland, software companies. Later in the day, when we shop in the largest Kenyan superstore, Nakumatt, I find the owner’s photograph displayed there and am told he is originally an Indian. So is another famous resort chain - Sopa Lodges. Nakumatt and other stores stock many Indian products. Airtel is omnipresent with their phone services and their mobile microfinance service called m-Pesa.
People are aware about India and ask about various things. I did not know Air India was earlier operating to Nairobi till the time various people, including an airport official, asked me why has Air India stopped Kenya flights and when would it restart?
As an aside, there is some scorn reserved for our Chinese bretheren, who are there working on different infrastructure projects. People complain they are stingy, do not mix with people and do not give work opportunity to the locals in their projects.  A telling comment came from our electrician friend Tony who states matter-of-factly that the Chinese “impregnate our daughters and then do not care.”

Indian Food and Kenyan Coffee

And where there are so many Indians, can Daal and Dosa and mukhwaas be far behind? Nairobi boasts of not only some very good authentic Indian restaurants but a true-blue Paan shop too! I was treated to a tasty paan by a Kenyan behind the counter, who insisted on putting it in my mouth, all the while singing “Khaike Paan Banaras Waala”. 

Khaike Pan Banaraswala, 

We also partake the famous Kenyan coffee, which some say is the best Arabic coffee in the world. 

Coffee House

Greedy Pigs, Hustlers and 80km walks  

On the second day of our stay, the newspapers splash pictures of pigs eating & wallowing in gore in front of the national assembly of Kenya, not very far from our hotel. It turns out that this is a part of a people's protest against the "greedy" Kenyan MPs demanding a wage hike. Sounds familiar?
Tony, about whom I talked earlier too, is a young man with a genial smile and honest eyes. He has come to fix the electrical connection at the convention we are participating in. When we ask him about the greedy pigs story, he smiles sadly and tells us about the poverty in Kenya and about lost opportunities. He is a hustler, he says, which means that he does not have a regular job like many more people. He is out on the streets in the morning, seeking work - any work - for the day, hoping that in a month he would be able to save enough to visit his family in the village. He tells us there are a lot of people like him.
Paul is our regular taxi driver for the four days we are there. He is a talkative and jovial man, who complains that people have become much too accustomed to a cozy modern life. His father  thought nothing of walking down to his village home-town, a distance of 80kms. Eighty kilometers??, I ask in amazement. Yes, he says, we lazy people seldom walk more than fifteen in a day! Huh?      

The story of the missing luggage  

Before we leave for Masai Mara, the world famous wildlife reserve, I finally receive my missing suitcase from Delhi via Mumbai. When we took off from Delhi, the pretty girl at the airline counter forgot to tag the case and I landed at Nairobi without any clothes, except the ones I was wearing. 

While I shop for the essentials and make the airport rounds to enquire about its arrival, my family in India is coaxing the airlines people to get it to me pronto. In this case, pronto turns out to be 4 days, during which time I lose much sleep and poise. The twin airline response to my justifiable claim is still awaited, as I post this. 

Next - The Wildlife in Nairobi