Why this blog is called "Gallimaufry".

gal-uh-MAW-free\, noun.

Originally meaning "a hash of various kinds of meats," "gallimaufry" comes from French galimafrée; in Old French, from the word galer, "to rejoice, to make merry"; in old English: gala + mafrer: "to eat much," and from Medieval Dutch maffelen: "to open one's mouth wide."

It's also a dish made by hashing up odds and ends of food; a heterogeneous mixture; a hodge-podge; a ragout; a confused jumble; a ridiculous medley; a promiscuous (!) assemblage of persons.

Those of you who know me, will, I’m sure, understand how well some of these phrases (barring the "promiscuous" bit!) fit me.

More importantly, this blog is an ode to my love for Shimla. I hope to show you this little town through my eyes. If you don't see too many people in it, forgive me, because I'm a little chary of turning this into a human zoo.

Stop by for a spell, look at my pictures, ask me questions about Shimla, if you wish. I shall try and answer them as best as I can. Let's be friends for a while....

16 May 2010

The love-gift of a fairy-tale

I love fairy tales not because the imagery I find in them conforms to what goes on within me. Also because— although a fairy tale gave body and content to all the angry, anxious thoughts in my mind — these stories always result in a happy outcome. What better than to wander discouraged and confused as Hansel and Gretel through a dark wood of witches! To strike the hot right way suddenly, but just as suddenly to mire, to drag, to speed, to shout Hurray! To fall asleep, to submit to revelations, certainly to curl a lip, to doubt, unnose a disdainful snort, snick a superior snicker, curse, and then at some point not very pleasantly to realize that the story I am living is the story of life itself!!!

Therefore, on one of my rambles, I got unnecessarily excited to stumble upon a gingerbread house. To look at it made me feel like I was 10 again. I looked at it with trepidation and a thumping heart. To walk up to it, to knock on its door, and perchance to have the Wicked Witch open the door... But no such thing happened. For one thing, I got lost in the woods, and had to make my hasty way out before dark fell. For another, when I did reach the house, it was opened by an unbearably sweet young lady who looked more like Gretel than the Witch.

Ah well... sometimes it is better let a fable stay in your head.

Here's the fairy tale:

Hansel and Gretel are the young children of a poor woodcutter. They have an evil step-mother who convinces the father to abandon the children in the woods as there is not enough food to feed the whole family. Hansel, aware of the plan, leaves a trail of pebbles back to the house so he and his sister find their way back home. The step-mother is angry and locks the two children up for the night with only a loaf of bread and water.

The next night, the woodcutter attempts the same plan again; this time Hansel leaves a trail of bread-crumbs but they get eaten by hungry birds and the two children get lost in the woods.

After wandering around, Hansel and Gretel stumble across a house made of gingerbread and other confectionery. They are very hungry and begin to eat it. It is owned by an evil old witch who lures them inside. She traps Hansel in a cage and forces Gretel to do the housework, continually sweeping the house. She feeds Hansel lots of food with the intention of eating him. Eventually the witch turns on the oven. Gretel comes up behind her and kicks her into it, shuts the door firmly and padlocks it.

They hang around in the house for a couple of days eating the sweets and they find some valuable gold coins. Once they are convinced that the witch is completely burnt they successfully find their way home and are met by their ecstatic father. He tells them that his evil wife is dead and they are now rich because of the gold coins' value.

They all live happily ever after.




13 May 2010

An uncertain heaven, received into the bosom of the steady lake


Little puffy clouds dotted the sky. I had a glorious wild view of the little lake called Tanu-Jubbar which was no larger than a big pond. All around was a damp and intricate wilderness. Boundless forest undulated away from its shores on all sides, densely packed, and enveloping nameless mountains in its succession. It was a perfect lake of the woods.



The morning was a bright one, and perfectly still and serene, the lake as smooth as glass, no ripples marking its surface. The surface crinkled a little when the wind gently blew over it. The dark mountains about it were seen through a glaucous haze. The wood thrush sang as if inspired by the morning, his song came distinct over the lake to me... What was more remarkable, the echo which ran round the lake was much louder than the original note; the sound being reflected like light from a concave mirror.

Tanu-Jubbar is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. It is earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature. The trees growing on its shore are the slender eyelashes which fringe it, and the wooded hills and cliffs around are its overhanging brows.

A little temple sits at the edge, much like a friend who decides to give you company because they sense in your countenance a contemplation that needs no words, nor any validation.




[Note for the detail-minded among my gentle readers: Tanu-Jubbad is best accessed from NarkandaJustify Full. It lies a mere 10 kilometres from Narkanda if you travel on the highway which goes past the path leading up to Hatu Peak. A little further on it there is a fork in the road, one leads towards Baghi and Sungri and the smaller one towards Nankhari and eventually, Tanu-Jubbad. There are no eateries, stalls of any sort close by, so if you plan to picnic by the lake-side, please carry your own food and water. The usual injunctions of leaving behind only footprints and taking away only memories apply!]

10 May 2010

High on a hill was a lonely goatherd...

High on a hill was a lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Loud was the voice of the lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Folks in a town that was quite remote heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Lusty and clear from the goatherd's throat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo




O ho lay dee odl lee o, o ho lay dee odl ay
O ho lay dee odl lee o, lay dee odl lee o lay

A prince on the bridge of a castle moat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Men on a road with a load to tote heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Men in the midst of a table d'hote heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Men drinking beer with the foam afloat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo




One little girl in a pale pink coat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
She yodeled back to the lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Soon her Mama with a gleaming gloat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
What a duet for a girl and goatherd

Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo


Ummm (ummm)...
Odl lay ee (odl lay ee)
Odl lay hee hee (odl lay hee hee)
Odl lay ee ...




One little girl in a pale pink coat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hoo hoo
She yodeled back to the lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Soon her Mama with a gleaming gloat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hmm hmm
What a duet for a girl and goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Happy are they lay dee olay dee lee o ...
Soon the duet will become a trio
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Odl lay ee, old lay ee
Odl lay hee hee, odl lay ee
Odl lay odl lay, odl lay odl lee, odl lay odl lee
Odl lay odl lay odl lay



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