They told us stories from a bygone era and added layers of adventure, humour and emotions to them. These stories took us on a train, up the mountains, into valleys deep and to distant shores. We have been overwhelmed by the entries for the Tiny Travel Tale Contest and we finally chose the winning entries out of the lot. We loved them for their story telling, for their spirit of adventure and for sharing them with us.

There is always something about train journeys that bring out the child in us, that makes us curious and restless. The romance of a train journey lies in meeting strangers, in those fleeting moments when we look out of the window and see a montage of images rush past us. But there is also a sense of excitement and adventure in a train journey. Read our award winning tale, The Train by Helen D Silva that bags the first prize, where the writer beautifully describes a whimsical moment that makes her get off at a station at 3 am and she almost misses the train , but for a stranger’s hand that pulls her back on track.

A cocktail of people, a tryst with strangers, a journey on a rickety bus as it climbed up the Khyber pass – Unveiled by Shriparna Saha bags the second prize. The narrator takes us along with her on a trip when she hears stories of people fleeing Afghanisthan and she has a chance encounter with a Sharbhat , whom she believes is the famous Sharbhat Gula , whose photograph was splashed across magazines . In that moment when Sharbhat unveils herself to the author, a story unfolds here.

“My Tryst with Them” - the experience of a lost traveller starts off on a dramatic note. “I was slipping…” narrates the author Titus Kar who wins the third prize and takes us along with bhim as he encounters a group of tribals who include him in their group as he seems hopelessly lost from his trail .

“The impression we took away in ‘our inward eye’ was one of a serene untouched land, dotted with colourful prayer flags..” says Deepti Menon whose description on Tawang as “Heaven in a Wild Flower ” comes fourth . There is so much of poetry in nature as Deepti describes her journey in Arunachal Pradesh as she concludes “alls right with the world”

Our fifth winner takes you to a Tibetan settlement in Coorg where she explores the meaning of enlightenment . Indrakshi DCosta is “Mystified by Bylakuppe” a settlement in Coorg where she meets monks and discovers they are on a holiday. Her journey goes beyond the destination and ends in a rather profound way that we were rather mystified by it

The stories took us into realms of adventure as we encountered spirited travellers on a quest as they embarked on their journeys. And it reinforced a couple of things – that the journey is the destination and people do make places.

Our congratulations to all the winners and for the participants who opened their minds and took us along with them .

Tiny Travel Tale – by Titas Kar

Tiny Travel Tale – by Subhajit Saha

Tiny Travel Tale – by Helen Dsilva

It was the first night on our journey at around 3am when we stopped at the Hubli station. I glanced sleepily at my watch as I got down from the middle berth and scanned our compartment to see if any of the adults in our troupe were awake. My six year old body was in no mood of being dragged to the door of the bogie we were in thanks to the 4  1/2 hours journey from Kuwait I had made earlier. My parents had been planning this trip to Vailankanni for months and the train from Goa would take around three days to reach in time for the feast of Our lady of Vailankanni.

As I stared out into the darkness and it was raining heavily, I tried to remember how much time Mama had said the train would stop at Hubli for. My memory failing me, I got off the train quickly just to look around, even if only for a minute or two.

The silence of the night was suddenly broken with the arrival of another train. Hundreds of people scrambled on the pavement in chaos, trying hard in the downpour to get themselves out of the train as quick as possible. In the backdrop of the disarray I could make out the forms of the chaiwallas with their metal coffee and tea dispensers filled with this spicy smelling fluid that matched the lovely tan of their hands.

I was never in the habit of drinking either of the drinks they were selling but I decided to make an exception that night. I walked over to the nearest chaiwalla and using the little hindi I knew, asked him for some coffee. Handing him the change, I took the tiny cup from him and sat on the wooden bench nearby. The crowd was now far away, noisily trying to get out of the station and I was left alone once again.

I woke up suddenly to the sudden blaring of the horn our train leaving the station. It took me a second or two to remember where I was and realizing that I had dozed off, my heart pounded in my chest as I ran in the direction of our bogie. The train was slowly pacing up and my mind was struggling with the physics of the situation, trying to analyse if I could make the jump in the train or not. A hand motioned at me from a window and I could make out the face of the chaiwalla.”Get in little girl or miss the train!”. Without thinking I hauled myself into the train, grabbing his hand, making it just in time.

Gasping, I thanked him a million times. He only laughed happily and handing me a cup of warm coffee told me never to go wandering alone again. On returning to our bogie, I looked at the smiling faces of my parents in their sleep and a sudden surge of warmth filled me. Not knowing whether it was the magic of the tea or the adrenalin rush, I tucked myself back to bed.

The train was now leaving Hubli and making way for the sunlight to stream into the city.

Tiny Travel Tale – by Aparna Parinam

Tiny Travel Tale – by Ashish Deokule

What would it be like seeping in the melody of mighty flowing waters crushing onto the taming rocks? How would you feel to be the chosen destination for the few droplets of water bumping off as the river traverses through the rocky terrain?  For the less adventurous, it also showcases another facet of itself; a true reflection of nature in the crystal clear but still waters of the great Cauvery.  And a must question for them: how would you feel to hear the murmurings of a few remote villagers sitting right next to the bank of the river?

Bheemeshwari, an attraction about 150 kms southwest of Bangalore, is located in the district of Mandya, off the Kanakapura-Kollegal Highway.

Bheemeshwari offers a whole range of activities from common-place boating to fishing, from adventurous river rafting and trekking to the observant star gazing and bird watching.  Unfortunately, I was flocked with less adventurous people and had to settle for not-so-adventurous activities.  Needless to say, Bheemeshwari will ensure you don’t have a dull day!

We started off our perfect sunny morning on the banks of the river observing the topsy-turvy curves of the same.  It was a perfect morning for some river rafting but alas, I was the lone volunteer.  Nevertheless, the cool breeze, bringing along the dew particles gingerly putting across our faces, was a tickle to be cherished.  And being in nature’s lap, it gives countless opportunities for the lens lovers to capture the panorama of the place.  Be it water gushing over the rocks or the vegetation careening along the breeze, every part of nature was asking us picture them!

Ok, so how about boating?  And it was a unanimous decision!  So we started off our short travel again to see the metamorphosis of Cauvery from a wild roaring beast to a gentle and timid pet.  The scene is inexpressible in words.  Birds chirping around, leaves smashing against one another and growls of some distant animals would keep you engrossed in the exotic nature.  And another delight for the shutterbugs!

After a short boat trip of 30 minutes, in a hemispherical vessel made up of buffalo hide, we reached to the other end of Cauvery.  A sand basin, which becomes non-existent in Monsoon owing to rising water levels during the reason.  This basin gives an opportunity to do any recreational activity that one can think of: playing cards, freeze-bee, Antakshari, Dumb Charades, a picnic place and even physical strenuous games like kabaddi, kho-kho, and lot many more.  A perfect base for a family trip!

As the dusk was settling in, we thought to pursue of journey back and another short 30 minute boat trip.  We tipped off the captain of the boat (that’s what we called him jokingly) to show some antics which he did with all his pleasure.

With that a beautiful day at Bheemeshwari came to an end. 

My definite next trip would involve night camping, river rafting and trekking. (Sorry! Cannot help you there.)

Adventure for the adventurous, tranquility personified for the inactive.  That’s Bheemeshwari for you!

Shimla is the ultimate hill station; I visited in September escaping the overwhelming heat of Summer for the pleasant and temperateHimalayan foothills like many have done before.  It is regal with it’s wide Ridge where everyone congregates for leisurely walks and people watching and surrounded by historic buildings that remind you of its British past such as the Viceregal Lodge, Town Hall and Christ Church. It is also peaceful and calm where you are left to enjoy the smell of pine cones and walk through the Mall without the sound of horns beeping and the bustle of cars, for in Shimla motor vehicles are banned.

   The town is watched over by the mighty Hanuman from the Jakhu Temple. Perched at the top of the highest peak  above The Ridge, the Jakhu Temple sits at 2,455m. One of the legends behind the temple is from the Ramayana where Hanuman was sent to the Himalayas to find a herb to cure Lord Rama’s brother Lakshmana who was injured during the battle with Ravana in Lanka.  Searching for the herb, Hanuman landed on this mountain flattening it to half its size with his weight. The temple is believed to have been built here to commemorate his visit and is a popular place for devotees to come and worship.

The walk starts just behind The Ridge with a short but steep incline, this is the most challenging part of the walk and it is quickly forgotten as you become immersed in this stunning forest. As with most Hanuman temples, there are many monkeys lining the forest leading to the temple and it is advisable to rent a stick before setting out on your journey to ward them off. The walk is a pleasant 30 minutes up-hill, the scent of pine fills the air and you are treated to beautiful trees and wildflowers of red and blue, there are plenty of places to just sit and enjoy the environment along the way.

Looking down through the verdant scenery you can see glimpses of The Ridge and for a moment I almost thought I was in the English country-side. There is the Church that dominates The Ridge and the village below looks small and peaceful. Dotted along the surrounding hillsides are cottages perched perched on the edge of hills reaching into the clouds and down into the valleys below. Then I see a cheeky monkey swing through the trees heading towards Hanuman and remember where I am and my mission for the day.

Turning back towards the path, I can see shards of bright orange peaking through the forest, a sneak glimpse of what awaits me at the peak. The statue of Hanuman is imposing in it classical rich orange hue you can feel it just touching the clouds. The temple is small and situated behind the giant statue and is surrounded by a pleasant garden where the monkeys play and enjoy treats from the visitors.  It is a calming and cool retreat from the summer heat, with a gentle breeze of fresh crisp mountain air. I sat and observed the sanctity of this beautiful retreat for a while before preparing myself for a gentle stroll back down the mountain towards the town. 

At the bottom of the hill there is a look-out where you can view The Ridge. It is late afternoon and people are wandering along the wide, unfettered road; it is clearly the place to see and be seen in Shimla.  With the view of the Himalayan foothills and valleys, I can think of no better place to relax and watch the world around you.

When travelling to this part of the country, do stay at Club Mahindra’s lovely resort in Mashobra , near Shimla..

Tiny Travel Tale – By Parthasarathi Chakrabarti

A cold January morning in Delhi, Thesis was looming and my mind was blank. I had a topic, but “the big idea” eluded me. That’s when I heard the 3rd year students are going for a study trip to Jodhpur. That night I was on the train with them.

With the others I visited Pinjore Gardens and the awe inspiring Mehrangarh fort. But I knew I couldn’t stay on with hardly any cash and very little time. I had to be back soon and wanted to see Jaisalmer. So, that night, I walked out of the hotel and thumbed an approaching car.

“Where do you want to go?”
“I need to catch a bus to Jaisalmer.”
“So why are you going that way? Come, I’ll drop you at the local travel agents’.”

Four o’ clock in Jaisalmer, dawn was yet to break. My heart beat faster with excitement. As I walked into the fort, I saw women washing the yellow stone inclined ramps. The palace was not open yet. So I went to see the Havelis.

At the Patwon-ki-Haveli the large, turbaned, big mustached door keeper was surprisingly elated at the sight of a lonely traveler with a backpack visiting his Haveli that early. He first took me for a foreigner, but when I told him I hail from Bengal, his elation was more than ever. He offered me chai and matthi (that took care of breakfast!) and conspiringly told me that the Palace-on-Wheels visitors are due that morning. Once they leave at one, the entire Haveli will be left open with no other tourists. He would let me take an unhindered tour at my own leisure before he locks it up again.

I went back to the fort. Every nook and corner of that golden stone clad centuries old living city stirred me.

I was hungry but was short on cash. The rupee each bananas saved me the day. At one I was back at the Haveli and had my own no-restrictions private visit.

Later I found a Hotel, who in their own jeep take their guests to Sam for sunset and gets them back. I chatted up the manager and earned a free trip to Sam. The dunes and the sunset beyond left me gasping. The same night I was on a bus to Jaipur.

Next morning in Jaipur, I was left with 75 rupees. The travel agent stared at me incredulously when I asked him to give me a ticket to Delhi for that much. “Bhai, the govt. rate is 80!” I stood ground and told him, I HAVE to get back to Delhi, and I do not have more cash. He relented, gave me a ticket for 70, paid a rickshaw to drop me to the bus, and after half an hour I was dozing off in a bus to Delhi.

That was when I saw in my dreams the building I wanted to and finally did design for my thesis.

Tiny Travel Tale – BySunita Vellapally

A recent visit to Hampi amazed me for several reasons. My search for all things old had taken me across the seas on many an occasion. However, as I discovered, sometimes there is more to be learnt in one’s own backyard (so to speak).

From Bangalore, Hampi is a five and half-hour drive by road. I arrived at the ruins of the Vijayanagara Empire in the late afternoon and headed straight for the Virupaksha Temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva, which dominates the skyline. The temple is a place of pilgrimage for Shaivites, as according to mythology, the nearby Hemakuta Hill was the place where Lord Shiva, who was performing penance before marrying the River Goddess Pampa, opened his third eye and razed Kama, the God of Love.

The gopura of the temple is stunning with its beautiful carvings. From atop the nearby Hemakuta hill, where most tourists head before sunset, the temple in the foreground with the Tungabhadra River separating the stark rocky hills on the opposite bank is a spectacular sight. 

The next morning, we saw more of the ancient Kingdom, this time accompanied by a guide for gaining a better understanding of the region’s culture and history. The first stop was the Vijaya Vittala Temple (a Krishna temple that is no longer active), famous for its stone chariot, which was used to carry the deities on procession during festivals.     

A unique aspect of the main temple is its musical pillars (though one can no longer test the sound as it is a protected national monument), which were incorporated into the design by King Krishnadevaraya, for his first queen, Chinna Devi – a dancer and musician. Outside the temple, stone pillars stretch to the horizon, hinting at the spectacle that might have existed in this international horse trading market in the empire’s heydays. 

The next stop was the royal enclosure, where the zenana and the nearby elephant stables take the centre stage. The Lotus Mahal, with its unique roof design that resembles the lotus, is the only surviving structure among the summer palaces of the three queens, as it was made from brick and mortar instead of wood.

The rest of our morning tour took us to the important sights, Ugra Narasimha, the monolith of the half-man half-lion avatar of Lord Vishnu, and back to the Hemakuta hill to visit the two Ganesha temples – one for the Royals and the other for the commoners. 

There were many more sights to be seen, but like Rome, Vijayanagara wasn’t built in a day. The Kingdom and its temples and palaces had grown over two centuries (1336-1565) under the patronage of four dynasties. Tragically, it took a mere six months for Muslim Kings to plunder and destroy it.  

In Hampi, lies the story of art, craftsmanship, romance and prosperity, but along with it comes the reminder of human destruction. The stone edifices around Hampi stand testimony to both the good and bad that humankind is capable of.

Tiny Travel Tale – By Sriparna Saha

Kabul, at the first glance, exudes the impression of being a city inhabited by a singular gender. It is males, males and only males everywhere.

Men, tall and tough-looking, crammed into Taliban-era Toyota pick-up trucks, recklessly race through the streets still nursing their war wounds. The ever-blowing dust has significantly dulled the carrier’s bloody red colour and the passengers’ claw-like hands too are no longer showing off their favorite toys- the Kalashnikovs. But old habits die hard, for their hawkish eyes still harden and jaws tighten at the sight of beardless men in western attire, confirmed offenders during the Taliban rule whom they would have the pleasure of picking up and whipping.

The rigidity in the appearance and attitude of the men folk is aptly complemented by the ruggedness of the landscape. A view from an elevated point opens up an endless a vista of buildings- scarred by bombs and bullet-marks, with insides exposed like that of a severely injured man whose wounds have been left unattended.

The eye slowly shifts beyond the city limits, where fields lie barren, filled with mounds of rubble amidst which shark-like, lurk landmines. It is spring time, most of the snows on the brows of the brown mountains ringing the city have melted, but a speck of green, the visible sign of new life is hard to spot, like the women of the land.

But are they really not there? I look all around me and am finally able to locate them, behind me, beside me, in front of me. Presence visible, but identity strictly under wraps, they are just a wide variety of forms in blue- scurrying blues, static blues, squatting blues, stooping blues. Different women with diverse expectations, expressions and emotions! But the burqa devours everything and relegates them to just a mass of moving blue, barricading them from the world which they are forced to view through the wire mesh, like the inmates of a prison van.

The blue burqa near me with a frail outstretched arm was once a highly-popular teacher in the country’s most prestigious school for girls. Now, the only identity that she desperately clings to is that of a war-widow, one amongst the faceless two millions. She supplements the measly alms given by government by begging near the busy tri-junction.

To me, someone from the outside world, the burqua strictly symbolizes bondage. But to this woman and many like her; it is looked upon as a blessing for it allows them to conceal their scars, fears, whipping marks and disfigured limbs. It offers dignity and a strange sense of shelter. Under it she feels liberated, for she can curse the world of men to her heart’s content and regain her sanity as she struggles for survival like the battered buildings in the background.