​Another monsoon Sunday! ITS TREKKING TIME! AND CYCLING TIME!
Delzad was out of town so this time I convinced Adi to join me for a trek.  He was excited and scared at the same time.
‘My back is paining bro’ he complained, but I convinced him to come along – we will do a simple trek.  I also wanted to do some good cycling, and after some research, decided on Kondana caves.  I saw it in Harish Kapadia, and then read Ashutosh Bijoor’s amazing blog on his cycling trip there.  As soon as I saw the photos I was hooked...what an amazing carved cave temple! I want to see this.
This would be the longest one way cycling trip yet – about 70 KM! Kondana was near Karjat.
I started at daybreak – about 6 AM  - and set out on the Bombay Pune road.  I had done Karnala earlier, and it was the same route till Panvel, where the highway split into the Bombay Goa road, and the Bombay Pune road. 
It took me about 5 hours, but luckily it was cloudy and slightly rainy, and that kept the temperature cool. Adi slept off in the morning, and set out late – but that turned out to be a good thing, as it took him only an hour to reach karjat and he caught up with me as I was having some wada pav for breakfast.
I loaded the cycle in the Scorpio and we went off to kondivade village. This is also the starting point of the trek to Rajmachi fort.

​I was a bit taken aback by the crowds on the trail – it was packed! As this is a pretty simple trek, and easily accessible by road – you get a lot of first level trekkers, and also since packaged treks by companies are becoming a big thing, you get a lot of organised groups as well. There was a group of children and another couple of groups of adults there, and also a lot of family groups and local people as well, and Indian crowds being what they are, there was a lot of noise and the inevitable litter and garbage.
But on the other hand, it is a good thing that these people are stepping out of home and malls and seeing the hills and valleys and ancient culture of our country. Maybe they will develop a love of trekking and become mountain  and history lovers. So good for them.
We found a villager who volunteered to show us the way to the caves, and that was lucky for us as he showed us a fairly unused and virgin way to the caves and avoided most of the crowds.  It was doubly lucky for me, as I dropped my  cap on the way and it was still there when we came back down. 

​The kondane caves are amazing! What carvings! What artwork! What a location!
They are 2000 years old, and still look regal and outstanding. The main Chaitya hall has a intricately carved entrance, and the wall carvings are superb. 

​Kondhane caves were first discovered by Vishnu Shastri in 1850. Kondhane, Bhaja and Karla are caves that are located around Lonavale. In fact, Dr. D. J Wilson in his writings mentions that the name Lonavala may be corruption of Lenavali – or the grove of caves
The stupa is in a damaged condition, and one can see large rock pieces on the floor that could have been part of the roof. A large part of this damage is presumably due to severe earthquakes in the Pune region that occurred between 1752 to 1812 
The whole portico-area is carved to imitate a multi storeyed building with balconies and windows and sculptured men and women who observed the scene below. This created the appearance of an ancient Indian mansion. The carvings are truly exquisite, with clearly visible features such as the garments, weapons and ornaments they wore, as well as peaceful happy expressions on their faces.

​Its simply amazing – I was very impressed.
We soaked in the place for a while, and then made our way down. It would be really nice to come here on a weekday, when there would be less crowds.
It was a pretty small trek, but then it was a longer ride so it was a Sunday well spent. 

​After the trek to Visapur, Delzad was very enthu about doing more trekking.  I was also enthu about doing some long cycling, and so I thought of Karnala fort. Its close to the highway, so easily accessible on cycle – and it was quite a nice trek – not too easy, not too difficult.
We decided to go on a Friday, so as to avoid the crowds. I would leave early on cycle, and Delzad would follow later in the Scorpio and we would meet at Karnala.
Home to Karnala was about 45 KM, which was not too bad but definitely not a pushover either. It would be important to focus on proper nutrition to prevent cramping. I carbed up in dinner, and carried some electrolytes and a couple of chapattis.
It took about 3 hours, and the only unpleasant part was the disgusting state of the Bombay Goa road – more holes than road.  It was a nice climb up the Karnala ghat at the end of the ride and the Police guy at the gate was very impressed when he learnt that I had cycled all the way from Mumbai.
Delzad timed the driver perfectly and rolled up a few minutes after  me, and we loaded the cycle into the Scorpio and locked it. 

​Other people also seemed to have had the same idea as we did, of coming on a Friday to beat the crowd, and they created a crowd of their own.
There was a corporate group which was assembling there, so we decided to leave fast and go ahead of them. But after a bit of a climb, we ran into a group of school children.
‘How many children are there?’ I asked an organiser
‘120 children...and 45 parents too’ he answered glumly.
Shit! No way I am going to get stuck being 165 chattering children! I engaged turbo mode and climbed like a demon and zoomed up the trail – and overtook all 165 of them! Simply left them behind in my dust!
And once I was ahead of all of them, it was so incredibly quiet and pleasant. It was like being in heaven! 

​The Karnala fort has the most incredible setting – it sits right on top of the spire of the hill and looks like a fairy fort. Its an ancient fort – built about 1200- 1400 AD, and commanded the hill passes of Raigad district.  It was built probably by the Devagiri Yadavas in the 1200s and further fortified by tughlaq rulers in the 1300s – which makes it really old – pre mughal. As the area was ruled by various dynasties, it was controlled by Gujarat sultans, then Nizam shah of Ahmednagar, then the Portuguese (who were really powerful back in the day), then the Marathas under Shivaji, then Mughals under Aurangzeb, then back to the Peshwas, until the British borg assimilated everyone.
Now  the time of forts has passed, and the remains sleep. The hill has been declared a bird sanctuary, and there is only peace and quiet.  The fort commands an awesome view all over the surrounding area, and you can see all the way to the sea. In fact you can see the forts of  Prabalgad, Manikgad, Haji Malang, Chanderi fort, Matheran, Sankshi fort,Dronagiri fort, and Rajmachi from the top – which is pretty awesome.
There is a magnificent stone pillar right at the top – a natural basalt formation, its the remains of the lava flow from when it was a volcano. And magically, there are huge natural water tanks right at the base of the basalt pillar. Brave people do rock climbing on it, I believe – but obviously that is not possible in the rains. 

​The fort was incredible, and I climbed right to the top to avoid the crowds which would follow, and enjoyed almost half an hour of peace before the sweaty and reproachful face of Delzad appeared at the base of the fort.  He had tried to engage turbo mode as well, but ran out of gas and was forced to march right in the middle of the gang of children.  Poor fellow, he was completely fagged out and went to sleep at the top for a bit. 

​We decided to climb down before the kids did, and enjoyed a quiet and peaceful walk down and had an excellent lunch in a nearby hotel and then drove back home in the Scorpio. This ‘bike up, trek and drive back’ is an excellent idea. 

​This Sunday I decided to avoid the cycle ride and do a trek instead. This was because Bawa -  the actual owner of the cycle, from whom I have ‘borrowed’ it (wink wink)-  requested me to go for a trek with him. As both of us could not fit on one cycle, we decided to drop the cycle and do only the trek.
‘But where shall we go?’ he asked.
‘Don’t worry re.’ I replied ‘I shall consider and decide on the day’  and spent Saturday evening watching ‘Deadpool’ and drinking a lot of Single malt whisky.
On Sunday morning we met up at Vashi, and had an excellent breakfast at a roadside idli wada stall along the highway. After reading ‘Trek the Sahyadris’ and consulting with SHE-WHO-MUST-BE-OBEYED I decided on Visapur fort.
Visapur fort had many things going for it – it was easily approachable by the expressway and NH4,  we could bypass Lonavla city and avoid the crowds, I knew the way as it was close to Lohagad where I had been several times, it was a fort I had been wanting to visit for a long time, it would be much less crowded than the nearby Lohagad, and we could visit Sheetal da dhaba for an excellent lunch after the trek!
The easily findable part of it was crucial – as we were two navigation challenged people, who had managed to get lost and take the wrong turn on a single lane highway in Ladakh, and had reached all the way to Tanglangla pass before we realised that we were going the wrong way.
And sure enough, here also I managed to miss the turn to Malavali station inspite of having been there umpteen times, and had to take a U turn to get back on the right track. We drove past Bhaje caves and up the ghat and found the turnoff to Visapur. We parked the car there, and started walking. 

​Visapur and Lohagad are twin forts which guard the Mandavi river and the approach to Pune. Out of the two, Lohagad is much older, being in existence since the time of the Satavhanas – which would make it about 2000 years old.
Visapur  was built much later – in 1713 – in the reign of Balaji Vishwanath, the first Peshwa.  Unfortunately, the Maratha empire did not last very long after that, and the British conquered the fort in 1818, using 380 european and 800 native soldiers  and a battering train summoned from konkan, artillery from Chakan and 2 british battalions.  On 4th march 1818 Visapur was occupied, and the British bombarded Lohagad fort from there and took over that as well.
After that, they blew up the whole fort with artillery and dynamited the entrances so that it would be unusable to the Marathas ever again. So there is nothing remaining in the fort but some walls and few ruined buildings.
Now, two and a half centuries after that day, the fort is so forgotten that even finding a path to the fort is difficult. If not for directions by the villagers and the arrows painted by trekking groups, you cannot even find the way up. We walked right past the turn and went on for quite some time before the villagers turned us back. 

​The stairway to the fort has been completely destroyed, and it becomes a waterfall in the rains. It was great fun to climb up that. 

​We reached the top and we were the only people there. It was an amazing feeling to wander around the deserted and desolate top of the fort. It was green and rainy and foggy – an absolute paradise. 

​After exploring the top for some time, we made our way down the waterfall again, and due to the rains the water flow was much more. It was great fun to make our way down that way. 

​We were completely soaked when we got down, and it was great to change out of wet clothes and get into the car. And ho – now for Sheetal dhaba and amazing food!
Bawa was so tired that he fell asleep in the car immediately in the return journey and snored all the way back to Vashi. 

​It’s a Sunday – Let’s ride! Its the monsoon – Lets trek! 
Lets do both- Bike and hike!
I tried to get She-who-must-be-obeyed to come for a trek, but she was still traumatised by the huge crowds at Tikona last Sunday and refused to come.
‘It’s a Sunday, and I am going to sleep!’ she announced. ‘I have to get up everyday at 6 to send your kid to school, and I need a break once a week!’
‘My kid?’ I said ‘I thought it was your kid...’  I broke off as a dangerous light came into her eyes.
‘If your stupid alarm goes off at 5.30 in the morning and wakes me up...I will find you...and I will kill you...after I finish cutting you!’
So I decided to go for a ride instead, and went through Ashutosh Bijoor’s blog for places to go to. I saw this post about his ride to Uran fort, and I was fascinated. I knew nothing about Uran except that it houses the new (well, not so new now) dockyard of Mumbai – the Jawaharlal Nehru Port trust – and is the place where millions and millions of trucks go to.
The idea of it being a historical place, with an ancient fort, fascinated me. I had to see this.
On Sunday I woke up bright and early (with a silent vibrating alarm, to save my life) and set out for Uran – about 45 KM away, via Vashi and Palm beach road.
I had attempted to go to Vashi earlier once, but I had been really scared by the very fast heavy traffic. It had been early in the year, so it was quite dark in the morning so visibility was an issue. But now I learnt that the trick is to avoid using the flyover, so that you can stick safely to the side of the road and out of harm’s way. 
I crossed Vashi bridge for the first time on cycle, and was very amused to see the many people fishing from the bridge.  They were very poor people and it was really basic fishing – they didn’t have a fancy pole or anything – just a plastic string and a hook. And there were so many of them! I wondered if they actually caught anything or this was just a way to get out of the house and away from the wife.
I turned on to Palm beach road, and really enjoyed that part of the ride. Nice wide roads, green and scenic, not much traffic – it was fun to ride on. I passed the huge Seawoods lake, and was amused to see a replica of Rodin’s ‘Thinker’ out there. I had passed by this place a million times, but had never noticed it before. 

​I turned off the Palm beach road on to the Uran Panvel road, and the road quality went down sharply. The heavy truck traffic and dirty potholed road made riding a bit of a challenge, and I had to be extra careful on waterlogged roads. You never knew how deep the hole would be, and going into a deep hole at high speed was just asking for a toss.
But it was not unbearably bad, and I got through it and entered Uran. I asked a policeman where Dronagiri fort was, and he gave me a contemptuous look.
‘There is no fort here – there is only a hill called Dronagiri’
I shrugged it off – I knew from experience that people didn’t know about the riches in their backyard.  
I followed the cop’s and Google maps directions and made my way to the hill, and found myself looking at quite a big hill. Hoo boy – trekking was going to happen here!
I had forgotten my bike lock at home, and so I asked a local if I could park my bike at his house, and he graciously agreed. He asked me where I had come from, and was flabbergasted when I told him that I had come from Mumbai. 
How long did it take me?
 Three hours – I replied, and he was even more shocked.
It takes 2 hours by ST bus!
That’s because ST bus makes many stops – I tried to soothe him by my explanation – I came non stop.
How long would it take me to climb to the fort? I asked.  45 min to an hour, he replied.
Hmm. That’s a proper trek.
I set up through the village and they pointed me on to the right path. It was small and nondescript, and certainly did not look like it was heading anywhere. I would have missed it if not for their help.
As soon as I cleared the village settlements, I entered into the magical world of the mountain. It was green, and verdant and calm and quiet and simply amazing.
And in sharp contra-distinction to last week’s crowd fest, I was the only person on this mountain.
The voluntary trekkers groups do a lot of good work in the hills, and a group had posted a sign board on the trail giving information about this fort. 

​It explained that this area and port – now called Uran – was known in ancient times as Dronagiri. In those days the village of Uran was enclosed in fort walls for protection, and some of these walls are still visible today. The name ‘Mora’ is mentioned in the records of the Satvahana kings, and there are records that the Chalukyan king, Pulakeshin had annexed this village and its capital of Gharapuri. Its possible that this fort was built around that time – which would make it about 2000 years old!
The Portuguese conquered this fort in 1530 (500 years ago!) and a padre called Antonio de Porto built a church here in 1565. It was conquered by Adilshahi forces in the 16th century and then later by the British as it was strategically important for them to have this fort and dock so close to Bombay.  The Marathas under Manaji Angre conquered the fort in 1739.
Because this hill oversees strategic locations like the ONGC terminal and JNPT, this hill is technically a restricted area and there is a nice yellow sign for you. 

​I started the climb, and followed the arrows put there by the trekker groups. Good thing they were there, as there were a lot of confusing little paths everywhere. Combine that with my world famous sense of direction and I would probably be there still if not for those arrows.

​It was a beautiful route, punctuated by streams and and hill turmeric flowers, and soon I was at the entrance of the fort – the rear entrance presumably – as it was a small stone archway rather than imposing battlements. 

There was a CISF hut there and I went there and tapped on the window, startling the two guards who were relaxing in their banyans. I explained that I was checking out the fort and just wanted to keep them informed of my presence. They invited me in and offered me a seat and some water, and we had a pleasant chat  where they presumably checked me out and were assured that I was harmless. Seeing a trekker in cycling shorts and helmet is pretty weird, so I explained to them that I had biked from Mumbai and hiked up the hill and they were suitably impressed. Though of course, they were army people, so this would be probably just a light warm up for them.
And like most people, they were curious why I would come so far and spend so much energy to see ruined buildings.
Just beyond the watchpost were the ruins of  the Portuguese church - the Chapel of Our Lady of Penha of Karanja. It was a very evocative ruin, and enjoyed soaking in the poignancy of the place, standing there in the light rain, all alone – looking at the ruins of the faith of foreign people from far away lands. I wonder if there is any memory in Portugal at all about these lands which their forefathers fought so hard for, and made so much money from, and affected so deeply in their quest to spread their faith. 

​There was a group of dogs chilling out at the guard post, and they decided that I was their new best best friend and they decided to join me for the walk. 

​I saw some ancient fort walls, and a little way away saw the ruins of the main doorway. Not much was left of it, but someone had rescued the Ganesha from the arch and covered it with the holy ochre ‘shendoor’.  

​I followed the arrows up the hill and found a Vetal temple – I love these temples, they are protoplasmic faith points. There is no idol, no carving, no temple – just a rock which has power because it is covered in ochre. Awesome! 

​Followed more arrows, and found myself at an ancient water tank. 

​The arrows ended out here, but I followed a small path and came out at the top of the hill. There would have been an awesome sea view from here, but ONGC people planted trees out here and they have blocked out all the view.
I met a farmer family up there, who were rather startled to see me, but immediately relaxed when I waved at them, and spoke to them in Marathi. They shared their chakli and coconut with me, and told me that they had come to leave their bulls here.
‘Leave bulls?’ I asked
Yes – the ploughing was done, and now there was no need for the bulls. The bulls can have a nice holiday up here as there was plenty of grass and water, and the farmer also has no hassle of taking care of them. They would come down on their own in a couple of months. 

This looks like a Bear's paw print!!!

​ I chilled out on the top for a few minutes, and then turned back. I crossed the vetal temple, main door and church and said goodbye to the CISF people. Bye bye – they said – be careful going down – it’s raining.
And by Jove it was – I loved it! It had apparently been raining dogs and cats in Mumbai, and now the cloud front had reached Uran.  It poured down, and it felt amazing! Sahyadri rains are the best.  
As I neared the village, I met some people coming up – there were four of them and a goat. We looked at each other in puzzlement.  ‘Anybody else up there?’ they asked, and I  said no.
I was wondering why people would take goats up here, when I saw another 3 people – slightly older. They suddenly sat down and said ‘Man, I need a drink!’ and pulled out a bottle of whisky and opened it.
Eh?
Then I saw a whole line of villagers trudging up the path. Some were carrying large cooking vessels, some were carrying live chickens, some were carrying sacks of cooking material.
‘Whats this?’ I asked. ‘A party for Gatari?’ We were about to enter the chaturmaas – the holy four months where Hindus don’t eat non-veg or drink alcohol – particularly in the month of Shravan. So, on the day before shravan, people have a massive blowout party where they freak out on booze and flesh.
‘Its our village tradition’ he replied ‘We have a goddess temple up the hill, and we will have a celebration there.’
Oh wow. Sounds like fun. Party!
I came down and  collected my bike, which was still safe (!) and decided to check if the ferry was operational. After 45 KM ride and hike up the mountain, I was not in the mood to cycle 45 km back.
I cycled down to Mora jetty and YES!! The ferry was working! I was worried that it might be closed due to the rain. 

​They charged me Rs 66 for the ticket and Rs 10 for the cycle and in an hour we were at Bhaucha dhakka, and it was the home stretch.  They are smartening up Bhaucha dhakka now, with new tiles and glass and a new touch. Lets hope that they develop the coastal ferry network a lot more. Ideally whole of Bombay and surrounding areas should be connected by ferry. 

​It was about a 20 KM ride back, and home sweet home.
That was a good day – Bike and Hike! 

​She-who-must-be-obeyed stood up and struck a dramatic pose, waggling her finger at me.
‘Today we shall go for a trek!’
I raised my eyebrows, and she immediately took that as an insult and scowled at me, and I rapidly lowered them.
‘I WANT COFF COFF...’ I waited for her to complete the sentence, but she only made a sound like a truck grinding its gears.  After a second she continued. ‘I W ANT COFF COFF’ and again stopped.
‘Coffee?’ You want coffee?’
She just glared at me. ‘I WANT to go on a trek...coff coff. Cough cough’  Oh, she was coughing, and that frightening sound was her clearing her clogged throat.
‘Dude...you are not well...you are sounding like Ajit instead of Mona darling, and coughing away like a machine gun.’
‘So?’
‘Er...I mean...do you think that its a good idea to go for trek in the rain when you are down with a cold?’
‘tchah.’ She said. ‘Watch this.’ And she took a big breath, and growled ‘OK, all you germs...GET OUT!!!!’
And I swear, I could almost see all the germs, viruses and microbes rushing out of her body in sheer terror.
‘OK, let’s go.’

‘!@$#%@%%#(@ You STUPID SON OF A BLIND BAT!  STAY IN YOUR LANE!!! @$$%&& GET OUT OF MY LANE YOU SLOWCOACH!!! #%$%*@#@ BLOODY ROAD HOG...WHO GAVE YOU A LICENSE???  #&*#!#^@@ TURN OFF YOUR BLINKERS YOU FOOL....’
This was me cursing at the traffic on the Expressway, because all the other drivers seemed to have taken an advanced degree in moronry with an additional elective of idiocy.
‘Dude...dont get so upset.’ SHE said to me. ‘You should be calm like me.’
‘Eh? Calm like who?’
‘Like me. Unflappable. Ice cold. In control of your self.’
‘Eh? Yesterday when the birds came and chirped at the window you cursed and threw things at them.  One bird had a heart attack and died of fear when you glared at it. The dhobi still quivers and pees in his pants because you shouted at him for bringing the clothes late...and...’
‘Oh shut up. Be calm like me. See, once we get on the trek how calm and energised I will be. Everyone should trek in the Sahyadris in the rains. Everyone.’
 

‘@##@*@$T#@# THESE STUPID MORONS. #@$#@&~ HOW DID THEY DARE TO COME ON THE SAME MOUNTAINSIDE AS ME?’
Unfortunately for She-who-must-be-obeyed, it seemed that the whole of Mumbai and Pune had listened to her and decided to go trekking. SHE had chosen Tikona fort as our first trek destination this year because it was easy to reach and an easy climb, but it seemed that so had everyone else.  There were vehicles lined up all over that narrow road, and huge crowds of first time trekkers  caused traffic jams up the fort, and were making noise and generally disturbing the peace. It was like being at Dadar station in the rain. I was astounded, I had not seen crowds like this here ever. 
‘@$^7#@ STUPID MANNERLESS BUMPKINS...MORONS...JAYWALKERS...HAYSEEDS....’ she was mumbling away.
‘Hey ...what about being unflappable and ice cold?’ I reminded her, but she only glared at me.
The weather was nice, it rained and soaked us, the mountain was green and the Pawna lake below looked wonderful.  Tikona is a lovely little fort, with a lot of nice little sites – the entry gateway, the maruti bas relief, the water tanks, the Vitandeshwar temple on top, etc.  It is part of the chain of fort in the Maval area – Tung, Lohgad, Visapur, etc. Its a very ancient fort – with traces before 07 AD – which makes it more than 2000 years old. It has changed hands many times over the centuries – the Nizamshah, Shivaji, mughals, Marathas, and then British. But by the end, warfare itself had changed, and Pax Brittanica made warfare obsolete and so all the forts became relegated to relic level. During the rains, it is a lovely place. 

​The only problem was the hordes of people. As the poet Heber puts it
‘Though every prospect pleases/ and only man is vile’ 

​

​Oh well – what are you  gonna do? We finished the trek in record time and came down off the mountain and sat in the mighty muscular Scorpio and roared confidently for about a minute when we were flagged down by a biker.
No go, he said – a bus has managed to get itself bogged in the mud and is completely blocking the road. Nobody is going anywhere until that bus moves.
Eh?
I went to see, and sure enough – this idiot of a buswala had managed to get completely stuck and block the road so totally and even a two wheeler couldnt pass.  The whole population of the bus had got behind it and was pushing and the bus engine was making groaning noises as it tried to climb out. 

​Oh  well, they will get it out, I thought and we went off to have a bhutta till then.  We got the bhutta, and went back to the car to eat it. We chatted and finished the bhutta and chatted some more. And then I suddenly noticed the silence.  No shouts, no screams, no groaning of the engine, no car horns or engine noises.
What was going on?
I  got out of the car and went to the bus, and it was just sitting there glumly. No driver, no pushers, no gawking crowds. What happened? Everyone seemed to have lost their mojo. I noticed a tractor stuck in the mud next to the bus.
‘what happened?’
‘Oh we couldn’t push the bus out.’
‘Then?’
‘So we called a tractor to pull the bus’
‘Then?’
‘Then the tractor also got stuck in the mud.’
‘Eh? What kind of tractor gets stuck in mud? Who’s this incompetent tractor operator?’
That guy got a bit stung. ‘I am the tractor operator. I can’t get the tractor out because there is a car blocking my path.’
‘So push the car away’
‘No...it’s locked, put in reverse gear and locked with hand brake.’
‘Oh...’ We all looked at the car.  One another guy got all agitated. ‘Let’s pick up the car and move it!’ he said. He was a bit drunk.
‘Pick it up? How?’
‘Arre...there are so many people here...just pick it up.’ He went to the car and pushed with all his might. He went purple, but the c ar obviously wouldn’t move.
‘Dude...you can’t pick up a car. If you try it, the bumpers will break off.’
‘Who cares man...it’s not our car! Who told that stupid prick to park it like that?’  and soon there was an animated discussion on whether it was possible or not.  Finally it was decided that it was not possible.
‘Then let us break the windows!’ the fellow said in frustration. ‘Someone give me a stone!’ he held out his hand dramatically. No one gave him anything. He just stood there with his hand out for a bit and then put it down embarrassed.
Everyone was just milling around doing nothing. I looked at the sky – luckily it wasn’t raining, and it was still daylight. I wouldn’t  want to be here and in this situation in pouring rain and in darkness. Both could happen soon. And definitely not with such a huge crowd of kids and girls – asking for trouble.
I caught hold of the tractor man. ‘Let’s pull out your tractor by hand.’
‘But how...’ he said  
‘You have a cable attached. We will pull that, and some guys will push from behind. Your engine is very powerful, and just needs a little bit of help.’
We got a group of people together who pushed and pulled, and the tractor guy revved away and revved away and BOOM – he back on the road! Everyone cheered! YAYYYYYYYY

Then he attached a steel rope to the bus and revved and revved. The rope promptly broke! Shit !
​
But the bus had moved a bit, and we were all heartened. The bus driver got in and started the bus engine, the tractor guy re-tied the rope, a couple of friends came to help him, and the drunk guy got a bunch of people to help push the bus.
VROOOOM VROOOM.....DUM LAGAAKE HAISHAAAAA.....VROOOOOM VROOOOM......DUM LAGAKE HAAAAAISHAAAAAA.......VROOOOOOOOOOOM VROOOOOOOM

The smell of exhaust, and burnt clutch plates filled the air and PAAACHHAAAAAK the bus moved and surged and broke free of its muddy prison!!! YAYYYYYYYYY. Every one screamed in joy and excitement and high fived.

​WOOO HOOOO!!!!

​Quickly the bus moved out of the way and we moved out of there and didn’t stop till we hit the expressway!
‘So aren’t you happy?’ I asked She-who-must-be-obeyed. ‘the trek was a bummer, but at least you got a bit of excitement at the end.’
‘Oh shut up and drive.’ 

​It’s another Sunday, and it’s time for another Sunday morning ride!

Today I was off to Jogeshwari, as I had been extremely intrigued by Ashutosh Bijoors blog about his visit to Jogeshwari caves.

Just imagine! A 2000 year old rock cut cave in the middle of Mumbai’s suburban area, and no one seems to have heard about it! I had to check this out. It was just under 50 KM round trip, and would be a nice ride in the rains. 

I hit the road by 6 AM, and cycled across the Eastern express highway and then hit the Jogeshwari Vikhroli link road, and then asked my way to the caves.
And when I found the caves, my jaw really dropped!

What an awesome cave temple complex! It was huge – one large central hall, where there is a temple of Jogeshwari devi, one large outside chamber where there are some excellent friezes of Shiva Parvati, and several interconnected passages where there are temples of Ganesha, Maruti etc.
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The ASI has done an excellent job of cleaning up the place and removing encroachments – as can be testified by the broken remains of the illegal buildings around it. Its a nice clean and safe place to go to, and since it is a live temple, there are always people around. 

​As per the ASI board outside, the caves were excavated in 6th century AD, when the Hindus started imitating the Buddhist practice of excavating rock cut caves and making Hindu temples and viharas, rather than Buddhist ones.  Other famous temples of this type are the Elephanta caves, and the Ellora rock cut temple, and also the Ajanta caves – which are even more awesome, as they are better preserved.
 It is very close to the other rock cut temple complexes of Mumbai -  Mahakali caves and Kanheri caves – though these are Buddhist caves and probably older. 

​Just think about it – a 2000 year old rock cut temple right at the junction of JVLR and Western Express Highway!  Right in the middle of suburbia! 

At both the entrances you can see remains of what must have been a richly carved maha dwaar – with large dwarpalas on both sides and sculptures of Shiva on top. At the entrance to the main temple, there are friezes in better condition than the others – imposing large dwarpalas on both sides and panels on top – showing Shiva’s marriage, Shiva being worshipped by Ascetics and Shiva and Parvati in family life.
The pillars and layout of the caves are amazing, and really awe you with their majesty. In their heyday, it must have been an amazing site. 

​Do check out Ashutosh Bijoor’s blog for more details

Rather than reiterate what he has presented, I would like the highlight an important point.  

We have been always taught that Bombay did not exist before the British – that they were the creators of Bombay. The lands were pointless and undeveloped before they came, and the only thing they liked about it was that it was a safe harbour. Even the name 'Bombay' comes from  ‘Bom bahia’  - which is Portuguese for ‘good harbour’.  And then they developed this worthless land, filled in the creeks and reclaimed the land, etc and created a city.

But that is completely false, as we can see from these amazing relics of the past.

  Mahakali caves, Jogeshwari caves, Kanheri caves, Elephanta caves -  these are all giant projects which would have required huge investment, huge sophistication and a rich civilisation. We have Mahim fort – which is more than a thousand years old – but is completely encroached upon.

There was a rich and awesome civilisation here since millennia, and we should be proud of it, celebrate it and protect it. 

​But we don't. 
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In any other city in the world, this would be one of the great treasures of the city – but here in Mumbai, it is just a sleepy little forgotten place. 

But things are getting better - this temple is no longer dirty and encroached upon.  The ASI has done a great job of cleaning it up, and the locals have kept it clean after that. 

Reflecting on this, I donned my helmet again and set out for the return ride. It rained, and I was a happy man! Singing in the rain. 

​Continuing my Mumbai exploration and Sunday morning ride, I was on my way to my longest ride yet – Ghodbunder fort – on the outskirts of Mumbai. It was about 85 Km return trip and would be the longest ride so far.

Ghodbunder fort was fascinating to me, because it is such an important fort – controlling the Vasai creek, and overlooking one of the oldest harbours in the Mumbai area – and is reasonably close to the city...but no one seems to know about it. People who have lived in Thane or Borivili their whole lives, spitting distance away from the fort, have no idea that such a thing exists.

​I myself had no idea either – and I am a history and travel buff – until I read about it on Ashutosh Bijoor’s blog when I was searching for forts and historical places around Mumbai.
I had the runs all day on Friday and Saturday, probably Mohammed Ali’s revenge from eating the iftaar street food, and was thinking sadly that this puts paid to my Sunday morning ride. I actually settled down to watch the Euro cup match on Saturday night, when I suddenly realised that I had not been to the pot pilgrimage for some time now! Maybe I would be Ok for the ride. So I put the alarm on for 5 AM and went to sleep.
The wife cursed at me when the alarm went off in the darkness, and would probably have strangled me there and then if I had not smartly jumped out of bed and muted the alarm. Shaking at my near escape, I fumbled for my clothes in the dark, as I did not dare to put on the light.

​All geared up, I hit the road at first light and started on the journey. I normally like to listen to podcasts when I ride, but in the pouring rain it was obviously not possible, so I did the ride in silence with only the voices in my head for company.  The Eastern express freeway is a pretty good place to ride your cycle – the roads are broad, and mostly in good condition, there is a service road where the slow vehicles can go, and on the actual highway there is enough room for the fast vehicles to give you a wide berth. You can maintain a good cadence and speed without having to jam on the brakes all the time.
Good speed is a relative concept of course – I was swiftly overtaken by multiple cyclists  - but I did not try to race or catch up. It was a long journey and it was important to pace myself.
I passed the Airoli bridge turnoff, where I had gone to see the wetlands around the pumping station, and then was very happy to reach my first waypoint – the Thane toll naka! It was the first time I would be going out of Mumbai, and it was a sort of halfway point for the ride. 

​I continued on to Ghodbunder road, and after about 15 KM, hit another waypoint – my first ghat! The Gaimukh hill ghat on the road might not seem much on a motorbike, but you can certainly feel it it on a cycle. I shifted to first gear and toiled up the slope and was very happy that I managed to cross it without stopping or dismounting anywhere.  Soon I was crossing Fountain hotel at the NH8 junction, and followed a much smaller road to Ghodbunder village and asked my way to the fort. The last guy pointed me up a steep slope and I huffed my way up it, hoping that it was not just a sadistic joke – but no, at the top of the slope was the fort!
And what a lovely fort! I was pleasantly surprised! It commanded a nice view of the Vasai creek, and was clearly the boss of the area. Anyone with a cannon force here definitely was the controller of the waters. And it was a big fort too. Most of the forts in Mumbai area are pretty small as forts go – Worli, Bandra, Sion, Sewri, etc. Mahim is a big fort – but you can’t enter it, because it is full of squatters. 

​This was a pretty big fort – comparable to most Maratha forts. But this was not Maratha built, but Portuguese built. The Portuguese came to the area in 1530, probably guided by the arab sailors who used the monsoon winds to come to India. The very word ‘monsoon’ comes from the word ‘mausam’ which means season.  And this was the very port preferred by the arabs to land the horses they had brought to sell – that’s why it’s called Ghod – bunder  (horse port).
The Portuguese immediately saw the value of such a good port and started making a foothold in the area. They started fortifying the hills, and completed this fort and called it Cacabe de Tanna.  They had powerful enemies in the form of the Marathas and the British – and both were not happy about the Portuguese having so many powerful forts close to each other – Ghodbunder, Vasai, Virar, Arnala etc – and kept attacking them. They resisted several Maratha attacks – notably a powerful one by Shivaji in 1672, but were finally defeated by Maratha forces under Chimnaji appa in 1737. The Marathas themselves were conquered by the British, and the brits took over the fort in 1818 and made it the district headquarters of Thane.
But all that is history now – and the place is in ruins. The ASI has made some efforts to preserve it, and the ruins are picturesque and atmospheric.  As it is in the midst of the village, there were some locals playing cricket in the ruins. Normally I would think that this a desecration, but somehow this was not.  I found it quite charming actually – that Indian villagers were playing a British sport in a Portuguese fort. 

​There were beautiful views of the Ulhas river and Vasai creek, and the feeling of being in a ruined fort in the monsoons is simply amazing. 

​A little bit away from the main fort was an intriguing structure – first I thought it’s a mosque.
But when I went there, I found out that it was a church, which had been repurposed to be a hotel, but now was abandoned and in complete squalor. The whole place was broken up, and monkeys were taking refuge from the rains, and children were engrossed in a game of marbles. After the majestic ruins of the fort, seeing the more modern ruins of this hotel was very poignant. I wondered who’s dream project this must have been, and how much money he must have lost in this. Wouldn’t it have been better to have left it as an old church? 

​I observed the old port for some time from the hill top – it must have looked just the same back in the 1500s when the arab traders were bringing in their horses. 

​Then it was time to leave – I had a long ride back home, and I was winded and crampy – but very happy when I reached home. I had cycled 85 KM in 6 hours in the rain and was now really looking forward to my limbu pani, hot shower and hot lunch.
BTW, on the way  back I saw the bands practising for the upcoming Ganesh festival. They practise under the flyover bridges – which is a great idea – they are protected from the rain, and are away from developed areas so they disturb nobody.  The interesting thing nowadays  is the amount of girls in these bands – especially playing the big Dhols, which used to be a male bastion. Check out these power girls freaking out on the drums.  What a sound! 

​Now that I had finished the forts project, it was time to find new worlds to conquer!
I wanted to keep up the concept of discovering places in Mumbai which I had not visited yet, and decided to continue with the ancient monuments theme. 
So where to go? Suddenly the name ‘Mahakali caves’ popped into my head. I had heard the name of the road ‘Mahakali caves road’ but had no idea about the caves itself. I googled it and saw that it was about 15KM away, which would make it a comfortable 30 -35 KM round trip – I would go from Ghatkoper and return via Powai and see Powai lake as well.
I set out early morning and it was pretty pleasant cycling in the cool weather – it was still dark and the street lights were on. Mumbai never sleeps – so the early morning people were on the road – the newspaper and milk vendors, the vegetables and perishables delivery vans, the trucks wanting to get out of Mumbai before their timing ends, etc.  I usually put on a podcast and enjoy listening to an excellent audio program while pedalling – it is more interesting than some pointless music, and safer as well – you can hear the traffic noises.
I took a right at Saki Naka and another left at the JVLR road and it was a long uphill pull to the caves, I was puffing  a bit when I got there. Good training for the planned long rides in the future.
But when I got to Mahakali, there were no signs, no indicators that there was anything of historical interest there.  Just a long fence on one side, and the normal small time shops on the other. Mystified, I asked the locals where was Mahakali.
‘Right here’ he said.
‘But where are the caves?’
‘Right there’ he pointed at the fence. I looked at the fence – No signage, no information, no welcome board -  there was just a forbidding looking gate, which looked like a gate to some sarkari top secret office instead of a tourist location. All that was missing was an armed guard looking as if he would shoot you if you even  looked in that direction.
And yeah – the gate was locked.
‘It will open at 8.30 AM. Come back then.’ The local grunted.
Hmm. That’s an hour away. Let’s see what can be done. I went and locked my bike to the fence and started looking around. A guy washing a car caught my eye and nodded at a gap in the fence.
I looked at it puzzled, and saw a guy walking through it with a bottle of water in his hand. It was obviously the shitting zone. But the guy nodded again and so I went through that tiny gap. Wow – I must have really lost some serious weight to be able to go through that gap. Yahoo! 

​I walked around there, and scrambled over a gap in the wall and entered the ASI area. Now I was truly a trespasser – hope there is no armed guard, else my ass is grass.
Luckily there was no one around at all, all quiet on the western front.
I turned the corner and gasped!
Wow – that was unexpected. What a beautiful place!  A patch of really ancient caves right in the middle of a concrete jungle.  It was very clear that these caves were Buddhist and very ancient.
These were made during the 1st century BC – which makes it 21 centuries old!  Wow! And I didn’t even know about the place till now.
The ASI has done quite a nice job here – the caves were nicely preserved and delicately restored, there was a nice garden in front and overall a very pleasing atmosphere. God only knows why they refuse to divulge the presence of the place outside. 
There are 19 caves in all – there was one main cave with a ruined stupa and Buddhist carvings – which was probably the main temple – there was another cave with a nice carved gateway, which was perhaps the meeting hall, and a lot of small caves which were probably the living quarters of the monks. There were couple of rock cisterns which still had water in them.

​The caves were up on the side of the hill and one could see down towards the Jogeshwari – Vikroli Link road snaking about below. It was a Sunday morning so it was still a bit quiet – but on weekdays it would be choc a block with traffic.  It was really interesting to think that the monks must have decided on building the monastery here because it was secluded and far away from civilisation. Talk about coming a long way in 2100 years.
But it was still quiet and peaceful there, and I could easily imagine monks in ochre robes going about their daily life, and chanting Om Mani Padme Hum in the cave temple.  For a moment, I went back to the 1st Century BC. 

​But the present century called me back, and it was time to leave before the ASI watchman came. I scrambled over the wall again and got on my bike.  It was time to return home before the sun came out in full glory.  I went from Powai lake side and enjoyed some nice sunrise views over the lake on the way back.
Mahakali caves was a very pleasant surprise, and I hope that it remains as well maintained and green as it is now.  

​I would never have suspected that there would be an ancient fort in Dharavi.
​
Dharavi is the largest slum in Asia - and a perennial choke point for traffic going from East to West Mumbai. Not really a place you would associate with ancient monuments. 

I became aware of the fort by reading about it in Ashutosh Bijoor’s blog, where he went hunting for a lost fort – I imagined him like an Indiana Jones on cycle – and after that I read up on it on Wikipedia.
​
It was a part of the ring of forts  put up around the British possessions of the seven islands of Mumbai, back in the 1700s to protect them from the Portuguese and later from the Marathas. The main fort was Bombay castle and the other forts were Sion, Worli, Sewree, Dongri , Mazgaon, Mahim and Riwa fort in Dharavi.  As you can see in the map, these protected the 7 islands from the mainland of Salcette – which was Portuguese owned, and later Maratha owned. 

​Riwa was a sea fort on the Mithi creek – but the creek has been pushed further and further back by land reclamation, and now the fort is well inland. Next time you are stuck in a traffic jam in dharavi when going from Bandra to Sion, stop and reflect that this road was all creek at one time. You could apparently jump into the river from the walls of the fort as late as 50 years ago.  Now the waters are almost a kilometre away.
​
I had seen all the other extant forts of old Bombay by now – Sion, Sewri, Mahim, Bandra and Worli – (Dongri and Mazgaon and Bombay castle have been demolished ) and so seeing Dharavi fort would complete my forts of Mumbai project.
Sunday is my day of long rides, as the traffic is less and it is fun to cycle on Bombay roads at that time. I set out early morning and decided to do it the long way round – I went up to Dadar, did a couple of rounds of Shivaji park, and then went to Mahim and crossed the western express highway and BKC and got on to the dharavi road.
Apart from the fort, I really wanted to check out another fascinating place which I had passed a million times, but never entered as yet – Maharashtra Nature park! MNP is a fascinating place – it used to be a stinking garbage dump next to the polluted Mithi river, which has been transformed into a beautiful nature park by the government.  It is such an amazing idea that the government could do such good work, and such a shame that I had not seen it till now.
And luckily for me, these two places were apparently pretty close to each other.
I stopped at the Nature park entrance, but was apologetically informed by the guard that the park opens only at 7.30 AM and it was only 7 AM now.
OK, no problem – I replied – can I park my bike here while I check out this fort?  He agreed and so I went off exploring.
I went into the settlement enquiring for  the fort, and I was guided deeper and deeper into the settlements. You couldn’t call it a planned city, but it was definitely not a slum either – they had pukka houses, and electricity and water and shops in there. It was an incredibly densely built place, though -  with very narrow gullies and no natural light, and I felt like an intrepid explorer as I went deeper and deeper inside asking for the fort. 
‘This is the life’ I thought ‘I am an explorer. I am a real stud.’
And finally after several twists and turns I came to the fort.
An honest to goodness 300 year old fort in the heart of Dharavi. Who would have thunk it? 

The walls were still quite strong and it looked pretty OK to me. There was not much in the way of conservation – There was a plaque on the wall saying that this was built by the corps of engineers on the orders of Governor Horn in 1737!
There was no entrance to the fort at all. Bijoor had met someone who provided him with a ladder, but there was no such obliging person for me. But I was still pumped up from my exploration through the narrow gullies, and so I jumped up a pile of sandbags and scrambled my way up into the fort.
‘Yippee!’ I shouted – but not too loudly, in case people came and stoned me – ‘I have done it! I am have fulfilled a random and pointless quest! I have seen all the forts of Mumbai. Woo hoo!’
There was not much to see inside the fort. The denizens consisted of a bunch of hens which someone was keeping there, and they didn’t seem impressed.
 You could say that they didn’t give a cluck.
It was quite atmospheric. There was a tall tree inside which gave a dappled look and feel to the place, and there were derelict items lying around which gave a feeling of great age.  I soaked in the atmosphere for some time and then left. Bijoor had found a tunnel and explored inside it – but I seem to suck at exploring and didn’t even see the tunnel.
My smug Indiana Jones feeling was gone though – from the fort I had seen the main road just outside the walls, so obviously my brave trip through the narrow gullies had been unnecessary. Sure enough, I asked a local and found myself out of the main road in a couple of minutes.  I had been the lost traveller rather than the trail blazer. oh well. 
​Now it was time for the modern marvel  - the Maharashra Nature Park.  It was open now, and I paid my 10 bucks and went inside, and it was such a pleasant surprise!
It turned out to be a magical place! A little patch of paradise in the heart of Mumbai. 

A beautiful wooded park on the banks of the Mithi, it was quiet and calm and would be a haven for birds and insects. I saw a kingfisher, a cuckoo, a golden oriole and heard a barbet calling away. It would be a wonderful place for morning stroll and bird/ insect watching trip.
Sure it aint perfect, with maintainance issues and all – but hey! What a place!
And especially the fact that it used to be a garbage dump and has been restored to be a garden – the message of hope eternal  is what you should take away.
I couldnt explore as much as I would have liked to, as it was getting late and it was time to head back.
I was just congratulating myself on being the single Mumbai person who was exploring the park, when I reached the visitor centre and saw the whole place filled up with people.

I smiled and headed back home.
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6 forts of Mumbai done – whats next? 

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Continuing on my Bombay forts trail, I decided to cover 2 forts in one trip this time – Mahim and Bandra forts.  They looked out on the same mahim bay, from opposite shores.
(above image credit - Ashutosh Bijoor of www.bijoor.me - an absolutely inspiring cycling blog - do check it out) 

I cycled from Sion (past Sion fort - which was the first fort I visited - you can see the blog here), crossed Dharavi (past Dharavi fort – which I have yet to visit), crossed Bandra swamp and took a left for Mahim. 
I must have crossed this road a million times, and I never knew that there was a fort there.  And nor did any of the locals, it seemed.  One or two looked nonplussed when I asked them, and then a couple confidently guided me to a police station.
‘But wheres the fort?’
‘Oh, theres no actual fort’ he replied ‘all the offices and buildings here are called the fort’
‘Balls.’ I replied ‘There is a fort here – I have seen photos and read Wikipedia and Bijoor’s blog.’ 
‘I tell you there is no fort’ he argued. ‘I have lived here for years and years’ 
‘Oh never mind’ I soothed him ‘where is the beach?’
He directed me to the beach, and I went off there, through the bamboo wala stalls and various storage buildings.
 It was a sea fort . It has to be on the beach.
And it was.  

 above Images credit - wikipedia By Nicholas (Nichalp) - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4789847
​​But it was fully occupied by squatters and shanties and slums. I saw the fort walls and an impressive gate, but inside was full of settlements and huts.  I thought of walking on the beach and getting photos of the fort walls, but the beach was occupied by a different kind of squatters – people squatting to take a shit. The beach was a huge open air toilet and was covered with shit and shitters.  I saw the fort entrance and smiled – that slum dweller was staying in a royal palace.
I lacked the enthu to  walk through that shit just to see the fort and so I withdrew.
It is a great pity. The Mahim fort is actually the oldest fort in Mumbai – dating back to pre Mughal times. It was apparently built by Raja Bhimdev in the 12th century and then  was the main fort in the Bombay island. It was in due course of time acquired by the Deccan sultans -  the sultan of Gujarat. The Portuguese entered in 1516 and conquered the fort, and wrested it from the Sultan. They also built another fort just across the creek at Bandra and were the main power in the area. Unfortunately for them, they had to cede the fort to the British because the Bombay islands were handed over to the Brits as part of Catherine of Braganza’s dowry.  The British strengthened the fort, and it had a garrison of 100 men and 30 cannon – which is pretty hardcore for the time.
God knows how it sunk from being such an important place to being completely overrun by slums and filth.
In any other country it would have been the pride of the city and well maintained – only in India do we treat our treasures with such disrespect.  The Shiv Sena controlled municipality doesn’t seem to give a rats ass about forts and historical places in Mumbai – they can only talk ‘Shivaji Shivaji’ but do nothing to restore and maintain history.
From Mahim I went off to Bandra, through the Sea link approach road and then crossed over to Bandstand and made my way to the fort. 

​This is the complete opposite of Mahim fort – it is clean and neat and lovingly maintained by the Bandstand residents association – god bless their souls.  It is like a Yin and Yang – polar opposites of kismet -  Mahim fort and Bandra fort – just across the bay – but two extremes of condition.
The fort itself is almost gone, only a small fraction exists now. The formal name of it is ‘Castella de Aguada’ and it was built by the Portuguese in 1640 – 400 years ago!
​'Castella de Aguaga – The Last Bastion. 1517 saw the commandment of the Mahim Fort fall to the might of the Portuguese as they set foot in ‘Bandora’ (Bandra). 1640 saw the rise of the ‘Castella’ or bastion. The Portuguese built this strategically located fort as an outpost marking the southernmost tip of the mainland. Fresh water springs located close to the fort served as a potable water point when they sailed across. They exist to this day, but now serve an entirely different people – the local washermen! Though the Castella is almost entirely destroyed, the ruins remain one of the few standing reminders of the days of Portuguese glory.'

It is an absolutely lovely place – you can sit there for hours and watch the sea.
The residents association has developed a nice garden there,  and as I went exploring I saw a sign that said that this was the site of the home of a Parsi gentleman called Byramjee Jeejeebhoy.  Byramjee was a businessman and Philanthropist – he founded several educational institutions in Bombay and Pune – the Byramjee Jeejeebhoy college and the Byramjee Jeejeebhoy parsee charitable institution in Bombay, and the famous BJ medical college in Pune.  The East India company leased 7 villages to him, and also ‘Lands end’ – the cape of land with the fort. He restored the old fort and built a beautiful house. He also built a road from St Andrews church to Lands end at his own expense and opened it to the public. Must have been one hell of a rich guy.
Now the palatial mansion is no more – only a few bricks and this sign. Such is life. 

​As I was sitting there, I saw another group of cyclists enjoying the view.  As they walked up the fort, one of them noticed that I was also wearing cycling gloves.  Being a friendly sort of guy, he smiled at me.
‘Are you here on cycle?’ he asked , and when I answered in the affirmative, he asked where had come from.
‘Chembur.’
‘Arre! We are also from Chembur! We live in HPCL colony – have you heard of it?’
I laughed.  What a coincidence.
‘I have lived in HP colony for more than 20 years.’ I replied, to his surprise. ‘My father used to work with HP.’
‘Really?’ he was very interested. ‘What is his name?’
‘S T Joshi’ I replied, and that guy was even more surprised.
‘S T Joshi? GM – HR?’
‘Yes. Did you know him?’
‘Arre! He took our campus interview, and gave me my appointment letter!’  he called his group over and told them and they all were very happy – Dad had been the interview and appointee of many of them, and they were very happy to meet me.
I was touched.  Very touched.  It was like...I don’t know...I got quite emotional out there.  Dad is no more now, but his memory lives on.
It was really a pleasant end to the ride, and a warm memory for me as I cycled back.