Earlier this year, I was at a village called Sari, in Uttarakhand. This village is at the foothills of the Himalayas. I drank my morning tea and set out for a walk to explore the village and this is what I saw.
Children were on their way to school, the only school in the village. The school was built way back in 1947, the year India won independence.
It was such a welcome view to start the day with. Clouds shrouded the hills and dew drops glistened on leaves. Children giggled on their way to school. Cool winds whispered sounds of happiness in my ear.
How I wish I could wake up to this view and walk through lovely fields to work everyday!
It’s April 22, 2015. I have approximately 36 hours until my flight to New Delhi, the Capital City. I’ve been there once before, but that visit almost doesn’t count. I don’t know if this one does either, but I am spending around 24 hours there and meeting Sanjana and Priyam there. So maybe I’ll count this as my first visit to Delhi.
Just a poseur for now.
I’m quite apprehensive. I sat in front of my cupboard this morning hoping to pack my bags. Instead, I sat for a whole hour and bit my nails. After I had no more nails to bite, I left to work.
I’m going on my first high-altitude trek to Deoria Tal on April 25. It’s an easy trek, I’ve been told, just like a stroll in the Nilgiris or in the Western Ghats. But I’m still nervous and of course, excited. I’m going to be travelling alone all the way to Haridwar. I’m venturing into unknown territory. And I’m going to be trekking in snow for the first time in my life.
There’s one thing that’s been eating me up though. I haven’t been exercising. Sure, I do walk 2-3 km casually every day, either to buy ice cream or to shop for groceries, but I don’t exercise with an intention to exercise. I hope it isn’t going to come back and bite me on my bum.
What makes everything such a big deal is that I’m going on this trek from work. You see, I’m going to be assisting the trek leader, because I’m an employee at the company organising the trek. So, if someone falls down and the trek leader isn’t around, I’ll have to pick him up and help him snap out of it. It’s actually quite a big responsibility. I remember I had to do that at my previous trek. Some girl couldn’t walk any more, so I had to carry her bag the rest of the way, make Electral for her, hydrate her and assist her all the way to the destination. All this, when I had no prior trek experience.
This is how it’s going to be, hopefully.
It’s actually sort of gratifying. I guess the idea of me being responsible for others makes me automatically and instinctively responsible for myself. When I’m egging others on, I don’t even have to think about whether I’m alright or not. I’ll be naturally alright. It’s only when I pay excess attention to myself that the littlest problems in my body and mind seem to blow out of proportion.
Maybe this is just too much foresight. As always, it’s my mind that’s doing all the over-thinking. I will wait for the trek to start and then see how it goes.
I’ll go home and pack today.
I’ll unleash my excitement and throw my apprehension away.
I’ll sing like a lark and set my legs free on the wondrous mountain way.
Yayyy! Look at me belting out poetry n all! Haha! That’s a first.
Hopefully, I don’t come back with a load of nonsensical poetry and highly romanticised prose from the mountains.
Can’t tell you how that annoys me, mostly because I don’t understand poetry or highly romanticised prose.
It’s not easy. Staring at pictures of extraordinarily beautiful snow-capped peaks, lakes, hills and other such landscapes, while sitting in this mind-numbing urban setting in Bangalore, is not easy.
Most pictures I stare at everyday look like this.
But staring at these pictures is part of my job. For those of you who don’t know, I’m currently working at Indiahikes. Indiahikes organises treks (national and international) and documents obscure trails all over the country. I’m working as the editor here, and my job is to edit articles and write a few myself. I also get to travel and go trekking for free. Just saying.
So, over the weekend, I thought, “I’ve had enough of just staring at pictures. It’s high time I jump into one.” So I set off on a local trek to Ballalarayana Durga, which is near Kudremukh in Chickamagalur.
You must understand the implications of going as part of the organisation and not just as a participant. It was my first trek after close to six years, and yet, I was handed a lot of responsibility on the trek. We went with 45 college students and I was told to take care of them and encourage them to trek. If they were tired, I was told to ask them to not give up.
I was quite apprehensive about it. What will I do if I can’t go any further? What if I want to give up?
The last time I trekked before this was to Kumaraparvatha. I was a wreck during that trek. I threw up at the start. I almost passed out on the trail. All of us completed just half the trek. Although it was fun being with friends, from a trekking point of view, it was a failure.
Yet, I made up my mind and went, determined to make the fit and unfit students trek to the destination. Along with me came Nisha, a colleague, who, I suppose, had the same thought running in her mind.
Nisha
I was surprised at my own capability. Knowing that my boss had told me to be the encourager and not the encouragee, I egged students on and didn’t sit down to rest at all. Believe it or not, I actually didn’t feel tired although I walked 16 km in a day, without prior daily-exercise. And 16 km in the mountains is a lot!
That’s when I realised that it’s all in the mind.
My colleague, Parth, who is a trek leader, said that our body is a machine – one of the most beautiful and efficient machines. It can go on forever, provided the main switch is on – the main switch being your mind. So while you’re trekking, if you think, “Oh God! What am I doing here when I can sit at home and chill watching TV,” you’re switching off your mind. No matter how much physical strength you have, you are not going to have the capacity to go on. (In my opinion, you’re being daft.) On the other hand, if you take time to open your eyes, look around you and appreciate nature, your body will automatically want to move on and see what is beyond the next hill.
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And when you’re walking, exhausted, trust me, every minuscule thing is a thing of beauty. Every shady tree, every blade of grass, every gust of wind is a thing of beauty. You will never thank God more for creating food and water and shelter. And don’t even get me started on the beauty of a good nap after a trek!
In fact, when we reached a waterfall and rested there, I dipped my feet in the water, lay down on my back facing the bright blue sky and closed my eyes. That half hour’s nap was the best nap I’ve experienced in my life. I didn’t have a care in the world. Not about people watching. Not about the hard rocks that made my bed. Not about the blazing sun in my face. It was the best nap I’ve ever had.
That power nap was all I needed to get back on my feet and trek 8 km again. Ushering the college students, Nisha and I trudged along the trail, through the meadows, the silent forests at night and back to the base.
Once we reached the end, we stretched and lay on our backs on the road. We stared at the stars and the waxing moon. We ate pulao to our heart’s content.
It was a blissful experience. I slept like a log on the bus back to Bangalore.
Doggies that lead the trail
The aftermath: You’d think that after walking 16 km uphill and downhill in a day, you wouldn’t ever want to walk again in life. But after I got back, I’ve only been more enthused about walking around and exercising. I probably seems silly, but for everything I do, be it climbing four flights of stairs to the terrace or carrying a 10-kilo puppy around the house, I think, “Gah! I climbed 20 km. There is nothing I can’t do. I’m invincible!”
I am, of course,aching all over, but this is a good kind of pain. It’s the pain that tells me that my muscles are becoming strong. They’re going to take good care of my bones if they get strong. Fitness is something that comes automatically with trekking. After you go once, you’re hooked to trekking and you want to get fitter everyday.
The best part of a trek is that you feel like you’ve earned everything you get- be it the scenery, a sip of water, the food, the fresh air… You earn every single bit of it. All you have to do is spend some calories.
On a holiday, though, you’re earning nothing. In fact, you’re burning a hole through your pocket to repeat something you do at home – sit in a hotel room, watch TV, use WiFi, order a regular/fancy breakfast.
Of course, I love holidaying too. Nobody can really have anything against holidaying, But somehow, after going on my first trek, I feel trekking adds so much more value to your trip, in terms of self-gratification. It’s something that adds more meaning to your life. It makes you stronger, harder and quicker. It removes the word lazy from your vocabulary. It teaches you how to live minimally. Luxury is something that is wiped off your desires, whether you’re on the trek or at home. It’s all about going back to the basics and you’ll be surprised how well your body and mind deal with that.
It’s hardly been four days since my trek and I can’t wait to go back to the mountains again.
FYI, Kuntea is my doggy, and she visits me every evening. When I come back from work everyday, she is waiting on the road in front of my house and greets me with mad wagging of her tail and excited whining. She can’t jump, however, because she’s limp. (Kuntea in Kannada means limp.) That doesn’t make much difference to her though. This road, this matriarchal road, is her Prideland.
But today, she’s bloody annoyed with me. Every time I go stand in front of her, she turns away. She’s enjoying my caressing no doubt, but she’s being very indifferent. She has caught the scent of another dog at my doorstep.
Rambo, being a lazy bum
A couple of weeks ago, my dad and mom showed me a new puppy in the area. A tiny and hyper white puppy with big black spots. I’ve named her Puppy. She’s a bomb of energy when she sees people, jumping as high as he can, sometimes lifting all her paws off the ground. But when there are no people around, she’s a sloth. Sleeping all the time. I invited her last Tuesday to sleep on my doorstep. So she comes and goes as she likes, sleeping on the gunny bag or the door mat that has been kept for dogs that like to rest or those that like some shelter from the rain.
So Kuntea has caught her scent, because Puppy has been increasingly resting at my door. I don’t know how to handle the situation. I love them both equally. And they’re the only dogs that I love so much, I mean it. I don’t know how to make Kuntea believe that. Puppy, I’m sure, doesn’t care. She’s an excited little puppy and if she sees Kuntea at my door, she’ll go and bounce happily around her, smelling her and ready to play with her. That’s what she does with my other dog, Piccolo.
Piccolo
So Piccolo is a dog that sleeps ten steps away from my house. Puppy is a big fan of him. She’s always following him around and copying his style. Piccolo is her role model. Piccolo is a handsome, muscular, well-poised two-year-old. He’s completely black, with a large white patch on his chest. He doesn’t care much about anybody. He sleeps around all day, eats the leftovers from the Momo and Omlette stalls around the corner, and perhaps some from the chaat shop close by. He’s a calm and composed guy, who’ll perhaps flick his tail lazily if you speak to him. I love him also, despite his indifference towards me. Anyway, he isn’t the only black dog around. There’s Chinnu, Munnu and Blacky of course.
These three dogs, two Newfoundlands (Freddie Ljungberg has one of these btw) and a Great Dane, Blacky, live just 20 steps from my house. They are big, handsome dogs. Blacky is still a few months old. Before him, there was Danny, a grand old Great Dane, whom they have donated to someone else because he didn’t get along with Chinnu and Munnu. All these live in the same fancy house, where the owners couldn’t care less about their pets. (I do NOT like such people.) The watchman takes care of them however, although I don’t really like how short their leashes are, which would be around one metre. But the dogs are the most “awwwwww” inducing dogs. They get so excited when they see me, they pee all over themselves. They jump on me and they’re huge, so I fall down. I stop my bike to greet them everyday, before coming home after work. This isn’t the only threesome around though.
Munnu, the peaceful one
Eeky dog love
Chinnu, the restless one
On the other side of my house, there are three new labradors – Dhrona, Rani and something else. Didn’t quite catch the third name when the owner told me it, because I was still digesting the name Dhrona. These three curious fellows jump and peep from their compound wall every time I go past their house. It’s the most adorable thing. Then I put my hand through the gate, pass their trust test and pet them for a while.
If you continue to stick your head out of the gate, Dhrona, someday you’ll be stuck there forever
Peeking at me over the compound wall
That’s around 10 dogs eh? No wonder Kuntea won’t talk to me. Damn!
I used to have two other dogs, that lived inside my house, unlike all the others. One of them died and the other was stolen. Both were adopted. Simba was the one who got stolen. He was a beautiful golden dog with a pink nose and charged up eyes. Gunda, the cutie who died, was a docile fellow, caring and loving. He also had a pink nose. It’s a pity we had to lose him. : (
Isn’t he a darling?
This is Gunner, an absolute sweetheart!
I had to get onto Orkut to get pictures of Simba. We had him in 2008.
My blue-eyed boy, Simbla.
But that’s all I got in Malleswaram. This is a form of therapy for me when I’m pissed about something. Nothing can match the selfless, honest and blatant love that doggies have for you. I fall to pieces every time I look at them all, but I love Kuntea and Puppy the most. Then, of course, I have dogs in different areas. In JP Nagar, on Brigade road, in Koramangala, in Chennai, everywhere. Hehe… In Guttahalli, there is this furry dog that I’m a huge fan of. He doesn’t even know I exist. He’s a stray, but he’s beautiful, with flowy and surprisingly clean brown fur. I give him my positive vibes everytime I ride on that road.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of him. But I have pictures of so many other dogs and I have a thing or two to say about each one of them. Here are their pictures, along with captions.
The brown fellow here is Mr.Johnson, our dog at ACJ. He was a stupid dog, all over the place, getting chased away constantly by the hostel warden. We loved him. The girl he’s sparring with is probably his girlfriend.This handsome German Shepherd is Mamba, my atthei‘s doggie in Koramangala. He might look ferocious but he’s like a little puppy. He’s harmless! That thing around his neck is a rakhi that his sister sent for him from California.This is Drago, a Golden Retriever from the next road. I was devastated to learn that someone stole him. I used to go and meet him everytime I was sad. He’d just rest his head on his paws and listen to my woes.I don’t have a name for this guy, but he stuck around my area for a few weeks. He was sooo loyal, that one day, when I went to the beauty parlour, he followed me all the way and entered the parlour also, until the ladies inside started screeching! When they shooed him out, he waited at the entrance, until I got done. I think he sleeps near Malleswaram railway station now.This little puppy here, who looks much like my Rambo, is Paco. She is a resident stray at Swarnabhoomi Academy of Music, in Chennai. I made quick friends with her. I loved her for her tireless nature, despite the unforgiving sunThis, as all Mount Carmel Girls will know, is Gloria. She rules the roost at MCC. She would normally sit around the cafeteria, hoping someone wastes a chicken leg or something. She was a lazy, fat one, but a loving one.This beautifully furry doggy made friends with me outside Egg Factory on St. Marks Road. He was sitting by my bike at the parking lot and was too cute to ignore. He had a rich, golden maneDoesn’t he look like he has all the worries in the world? We found this puppy near Muttukadu beach house in Chennai. He was tied up outside a restaurant, and his friend, another puppy, was also tied close to him, but just out of his reach. He strained and pulled at his leash, but was still a foot away from his friend. He was so sad. : (This was the friend of the puppy I just wrote about. He was really handsome, in a very English way.
Scratch my belly, please!
Someone’s been naughtily getting their hands dirty
This is perhaps the happiest dog in the world. They all live on the beach in Besant Nagar, and feed on fish, chundal, corn and anything they can get their paws on
Fishy trying to tame the over-excited doggy
This guy was so hyper that I couldn’t get a non-shaky picture of him. This is the third house from mine, and he almost jumped over and out of the compound wall. I don’t think he lives there anymore. He grew out of the place.
I found these puppies in Pavagada, when I went to cover deprivation from college. I held the entire team up for at least ten minutes because my heart melted looking at them. I just couldn’t let them go
Sniff sniff
This puppy was a shy one that I found at NITK, Suratkal. He was hungry and haggard, and scared of everyone. Look at those sad, watchful eyesMy dad found this puppy lost on the streets and told me about it. I immediately brought it home. This picture was taken before leaving to CUPA that same evening. I left him there. I hope someone adopted him. He was dazed, confused and disoriented all the time. Strange fellow!This dog made a one-day cameo and disappeared to God knows where! He was the most humble dog, who came up to my door step, ate Parle G and went away. Look at how those ears have gone back. So heartening!I don’t know this dog, but I was fascinated with him. He sat calm and majestic, feeling the wind in his hair as his masters rode on the road to Auroville, Pondicherry. Seriously, it happens only in India.
This is a puppy that I found in the backyard of one of my aunt’s houses. I didn’t bring it home because it was still with its mum. I don’t like separating them when they’re together
That’s that. These are just doggies, whose pictures I have. There are more of course, like the one at SN on JP Nagar, and others, whose pictures I haven’t been able to click. The entire species itself has had a huge role to play in my life and affected my general outlook behaviour, and the way I think. I take inspiration from these dogs.
I just want to thank God for making these four-legged creatures that are way way WAY better than human beings. I hope that someday, I can be as loyal, selfless, caring, protective and loving as a dog.
Puppy
Of course, I’d also give anything to just laze around all day like them, wake up to a beautiful sunny day on the road, and sleep under any sort of shelter, anywhere.
My friend Aditya (Ok fine, best friend) has gone to Saudi Arabia from work. He’s talking to me from there now. You know what it’s like to be in a different city/country on work. You have a fancy hotel room, an hour of work in 24 hours, you have free weekends in an unknown city, and the best part – you’re all alone.
Yeah. I said best part. It was only after talking to him that I realised I miss Macau. I miss the luxuriously spacey room, the massive double bed on which I could roll around and not fall off, the carpeted floors, the lamp shades at the bed post, the TV i could watch as I lay down on the bed, the breath-taking view of hills and port-side from my grill-less window, the well thought-out colours of the walls and the furniture, the massive-yet-inconspicuous painting hanging above the bed, the table and chair with a pen stand holding a bunch of pens and pencils for my work, and an open suitcase lying in the corner of the room.
My pretty room
Don’t even get me started on the bathroom and the bath tub in it.
I had one hell of a time in Macau, despite arriving in Bangalore ceaselessly complaining about the luxury and the waste of precious resources there. I was just trying to be a smart ass. I realised it’s alright for them to have luxury because the island city doesn’t have 99% of the population suffering in poverty. They all have enough to live a comfortable life, unlike in India, and they have every right to that luxury.
I lived at Holiday Inn Macao Cotai Central, which belongs to a luxury chain of hotels called Sands Macao. And when I say luxury, I mean it. It’s the kind of place a really wealthy person would go for a honeymoon at, with outrageous room tariffs ($2,000 HK). Or like something you’d see in a depiction of a fancy room in Vegas in a Hollywood movie.
This is me effortlessly taming Toothless, from How to Train Your Dragon. I must be the next Dragon King or whatever
When Alex wanted to crush me with his mighty paws
My hotel had everything I needed could dream of – a lovely room on the 20th floor just for me, a magnificent foyer with a few too many chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling, a courtyard where Dreamworks characters danced around, a choice of around 20 restaurants to eat from, a gym, three pools, a jacuzzi and even a casino to pass you time! I had time to explore all of this, and all by myself, when I wasn’t with the other Indians I went with.
View from my window
You see, it was a media junket (google it if you’re not familiar with it). I went to the two-time IIFA-host city with 15 others from India, and we all got rooms to ourselves. I had never travelled alone before, with just strangers. I have always had my family or friends with me and this was a refreshing experience! I had the freedom to not compromise on what I wanted to do, where I wanted to be, and how I wanted to spend time. When I’m with others, I usually let them decide what to do because I don’t like to be guilty if they don’t really enjoy the thing I decide to do. I don’t like that liability. So I usually compromise and it was awesome to not have to do so here.
I realised only after speaking to Aadi that it is such a pleasure to travel alone. When you’ve lived with your family all your life, this gives you a sense of freedom like none other. Note that I’m not complaining about being with my family. It’s just a nice change. I’m sure my dad feels it too when he travels to Delhi every now and then and lives on his own terms without my mum and me nagging him. But I’m sure he’s equally happy to be back to us. It was the same case with me.
Every morning I’d wake up (I was there for only four days) from the deepest slumber, get out of the warm, clean, blanket, waddle out of the five pillows on the bed (believe it or not, the pillows were labelled ‘soft’ and ‘sturdy’), admire myself in the huge mirror in the bathroom, sit at the window sill, watch the clouds move and make space for a clear view of the sea as I brushed my teeth, pour water into a kettle to make black tea for myself and get dressed and go down for breakfast. On days that I came back to the room early, I’d put on my swimming costume, go to the fourth floor, sit in the jacuzzi for a while, swim in one of the three pools, come back to my room and get ready for a nice dip in the bath tub.
I carried my portable JBL speakers with me. So one day, I played piano music, took a Wodehouse book, sat in the tub and read for an hour. As I type, I feel it sounds like I’m just typing a ideal moment in my life, something that cannot be achieved. But this is how it actually was. It was so quiet and peaceful.
But I’m not saying you can have nice alone-travel only if you have luxury. I could be in the most local hotel room in some hill station and still enjoy it, because of its simplicity. Even in my house, I find peace in the middle of chaos. All I have to do is put on my noise cancellation ear plugs.
Even while walking around in the local market in Macau, I disintegrated from the group and roamed around by myself, staring at the strange things people ate. It gave me time to think and form my thoughts about everything I was seeing. Most of the times, when we travel with others, we’re always fed preconceived thoughts and opinions and have to think hard to form our own opinions. It might not be like that with you, but it is with me. I’m easily influenced. So this time, I had the freedom of thinking whatever I want.
It’s seriously amazing to travel alone and you don’t have to be a loner to do it. You could be the most social person, and you may still love travelling alone. You’ll never know until you give it a shot. My cousin Hrishi, travelled all around the world (literally – he went from UK, to Japan, to New Zealand, to US, and other places I can’t even remember) and he did it alone. My sister asked him why he was going, and he said, “To think.” Haha! My sister responded saying, “Oh! I just do my thinking in the bathroom.” Who knew thinking could come at a hole-in-the-pocket cost eh?
Anyway, Macau, as I see it today, was an eye-opener. Although it didn’t open my eyes back in May when I went, it did today. And I’m glad I went and enjoyed however I wanted to. I found peace even in the noisy, half-constructed, casino-infested city.
You should try it too.
Just remember, don’t let strangers into your room. Stay safe.
Until next time.
Cheerios!
Selfie time : P
Fine wine and dine
The sky here is fake, and artificially lit. There’s no night here!
So I was ironing my dad’s uniform the other day and suddenly it struck me that he has been wearing the same clothes every single day for 34 years! I thought twelve years of having to wear uniform to school was too much. And here we have my dad, who, save Sundays, has been wearing a grey shirt with grey trousers and maybe five different pairs of shoes over those 34 years. The only change he has had is being shifted from inspecting the quality of porcelain to the quality of panel boards, and of course, a whole bunch of promotions. (After reading this, he is going to email me about his exact position at work, with a bunch of corrections of the technicalities.)
Random picture alert
Now come to think of it, my mum has also been in service for the past 34 years, at AG’s office, sitting at a desk, signing here and there, cross checking pensioner’s names and addresses, having lunch with her friends and coffee in the canteen at 3 o’ clock. She has a few more years to go until she retires.
My sister just joined work a couple of months ago. She has worked at three different companies. Right now, I mean, as I’m writing this blogpost, she is sitting in Kerala, at a beach house, playing Scrabble with her husband. Last weekend, she was at Kodachadri, trekking to a peak with an insanely beautiful view.
And here I am, with six months of job experience, planning my next career-move, despite having a kickass job. I write about what I want, I’m given crazy freedom. I write about music, travel, fashion, food, art, dance, culture and lifestyle. It’s an 11 to 5 job. Could I want anything else? Yupp, I can! I think it’s a law of life to never be satisfied with what you have, to always want more. Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m a restless person, who can’t stick to a particular thing for long. Or maybe I just want a break. It’s no mean feat to go to work six months, with no weekends and take just four days off over the period of time. Right now, I’m craving for a holiday. A beach, a hammock, a book, a beer, some pleasant music, just a simple break. Like this.
I want to relive this trip so bad that I have even chopped my hair off, ready to go!
But of course, everyone I know is busy. A friend of mine, Sudarshan, is travelling around every weekend, to anywhere he likes. Just deciding the previous day and backpacking. One of my editors just returned from Goa. Another one is leaving to Istanbul as I type. Ugh. I’m not happy for any of these people. I’m plain jealous. I wanna go on a holiday!
Keeping such cravings in mind, I have an ideal plan for my next career-move, my next job. I’m going to start an online travel show. (Don’t steal my idea you!) A lot of people will know that my dream was to be at Travel and Living/Animal Planet/ESPN. (The last one is headed in the opposite direction, I know, but if that’s a possibility, then why not? I love football, I love writing, I love being on camera. A Mayanti Langer-like job would be ideal. Might seem to far fetched, but what the hell! It’s nice to have a dream.) Anyway, like I said, I’d like to start an online travel show, discovering unseen places. Right now, it’s just a dot of a thought. Like an amoeba. It hardly exists but it does. Over 2014, I’ll build on this thought and come up with something legit, hopefully.
Although I do feel so vain sometimes, writing only about fashion, travel and such luxuries when I live in a third world country, where millions live without a concrete roof over their heads, there’s only so much I can do for them. When I’m equipped enough to help them, I will. Until then, I’ll continue to work on the features desk. Like my friend Aadi says, there is only negativity in the media today. Bad news everywhere. So let the main desk handle all the bad news, I’ll write features and spread happiness and optimism all over the place!
But I still want that holiday. And of course, my parents deserve a break, from their jobs. Maybe they don’t want it though. My dad has to retire in eight months and I’m sure he doesn’t want to. BHEL has been his life. That grey uniform has been his skin. But all good things come to an end and new good things rise out of the ashes.
So here’s to a LONG but seemingly short and eventful 2013!
(I’m not done for the year yet, in terms of this blog.)
Swat of All Trades 