Posted in Photography, Travel

on unhurried ravines…

Sing of my deeds
Tell of my combats
How I fought the treacherous demons
Forgive my failings
And bestow on me peace

Phoolan Devi

Banks of Chambal River, Uttar Pradesh, India

It would be rather difficult for Chambal to lose its instinctive affiliation with dacoity as one glances over the endless maze of ravines, mulling over these unique erosions — be it the landscape or the social fabric that made the go site baaghi can i buy gabapentin over the counter in spain a quintessential Indian antihero…

But that was the past, when the country was emerging from the throes of colonial ramblings and establishing its own brand of malfeasance… a globalised world put an end to all that with a uniform code for institutional corruption, and the gun-toting revolutionary gave way to the basement hacker…

All of this narrative, however, would not be possible without the river that lends its name to the region… Chambal River is delightfully unique; for one, it remains one of the cleanest in an age where water bodies have decided to spew fire in retort… one has to maybe thank the dacoits for that to some extent… arising in a rather middle of nowhere in the Vindhyas, flows through some of the most arid regions with a swagger… the kind that comes naturally when you have muggars and gharials lining up your banks…

Banks of Chambal River, Uttar Pradesh, India

The surrounds though, are somehow still caked in the dust that is the past, a crumbling Ater Fort can barley whimper of its lost grandeur, the blood stained doors or the opulent chambers voraciously dug up by the locals in search of non-existent treasures… and the people are nonchalantly bewildered by the evolving ways of urbanity; but time, even if it trudges on a camelback, moves forth on one side, as the river tries to subjugate it on the other, through veils, guns or caste…

Banks of Chambal River, Uttar Pradesh, India

buy Gabapentin 100mg Musings on the riverine, the banks of Chambal River, Uttar Pradesh

Parth Joshi

Allured by the outdoors, the author is made up in parts of that quintessential lost soul wreathing under the pangs of biophilia in a desk job, a wannabe elegist mostly ending up in dungeons of poetasters and an optimist waiting for the senility of the modern world to fade away while sampling shoots and leaves.

In saner times, he has a keen interest in areas pertaining to tourism, history, agriculture and climate change, especially with respect to historical interpretations, emerging technologies and future livelihoods.

An avid trekker, runner, cyclist, birder and photographer, he is more often than not found gloating over anything hinterland, on foot or over computer monitors, and fantasizing solutions that can foster ‘inclusive’ growth and sustainable livelihoods for communities at the grassroots.

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