PURNESH@PANCHGANI

Purnesh@Panchgani

The memories will never fade.

The photographs will find their way to the soft board.

The fireflies will continue flying between trees.

The temperatures will keep dropping.

I will untiringly travel back to Panchgani.

I will excitingly travel back to Panchgani.

I will repeatedly travel back to Panchgani.

Destinations, which echo in the mind, body and soul are where we should keep going back to rediscover ourselves. This is what, I, as Purnesh, a normal human being, minus all the pseudonyms thinks. This is what, I, as a writer, minus the titles of a creative director, a copywriter, an artist thinks. This is what, I, as an observant, minus the tags of a blogger, a hobbyist photographer, a fan of Instagram feeds thinks. The experience being so magical; I associate my name with the place, which moves something extremely deep within me. Just three days of stay, the third proper vacation, the second awesome accommodation at the hill station, leaves me with so much to ponder about, write for and continue imagining with.

Pouring in Panchgani

Little am I aware about the restaurant, which sounds like a pure vegetarian restaurant; they serve me the best chicken thali for lunch. My eyes try to stretch as far as the abyss of the valley is. The roof vibrates, the temperature drops, the blowing breeze turns extremely cold, the aroma of wet mud diffuses. The rains are here. The camera, lies unpacked in the hotel room; the mobile rings to rescue. The first glimpse of raindrops, in their full glory, make a straight entry into the memory card. The white car, parked just outside the restaurant now wears a shiny look; the heavy downpour has left it look like a new one, a renewed version of its old freshness. Once again, a confirmation, Purnesh@Panchgani; happy, thankful to self.

Excuse the limited but happy space

Only two cars are parked in the limited space that the hotel offers. Other guests join in; families, lovers, kids. None of them loud. Everyone aware about maintaining the serenity, sanity of this sleepy hill station, which is now busy soaking the rains. The texture of the water run, wet mud is worth a thousand more glances. The noon has turned cloudy again. The rains return to calm the valleys, which are losing out their patience to the scorching sun. The absence of an air condition doesn’t bother. Unfolding the blanket, I celebrate the short but satisfying afternoon siesta. Once again, an assurance, Purnesh@Panchgani; at ease, at peace with self.

Auto-focus to manual focus

For the first time in last five years, the camera shifts gears from auto-focus to manual focus. I as the hobbyist photographer chooses to go rapidly footloose; shoots curtains, windows, flowers, people, greens, doors, guests, kids, empty bottles of wine, a newly gifted coffee mug, lobbies, guests, birds, smoke, homes, hotels, dish antenna, raw mango, black cat. Every time, I release the shutter, a new story is revealed. Once again, an imagination, Purnesh@Panchgani; capturing, creating freely.

In company of the two varieties of wine 

Those two bottles of wine, Satori Tempranillo and Wonder Wyne (Apple Wine), add up to the splendid experience that Panchgani already is. I pour myself from both, raise a solo toast to myself; both are successful in giving me a high. I switch off the lights and the night takes over. Two stories keep me busy throughout the night, by appearing as dreams (sounds strange but true); the third one crawls in from a lost conversation in space. Once again, an inspiration, Purnesh@Panchgani; sleeping, dreaming.

The dinners are served; purely non vegetarian on the first night, purely vegetarian on the second night. Before the hunger pangs set in, stories make sure to engage. Stories about crabs, germs, ghosts, betrayal, deceit, backstabbing, conning, revenge, hatred, spirituality, reincarnation, realities. Once again, a delight, Purnesh@Panchgani; eating, relishing.

Fireflies fill the skies. The caretaker of the hotel mentions that they are common when it rains. He says, he is sure of seeing more in the coming nights. I smile at him. The smile makes him converse more about the owners of the hotel, his modest family, the kind of guests who keep checking in. I am staring up there between trees, up in the skies, into the open garden area and beyond; the fireflies are putting up a stunning show for me. Once again, a visual treat, Purnesh@Panchgani; spotting fireflies, expecting more fireflies.

Before I gear up to drive out of the hill station; sometime around 6 AM, the mind is racing back to the night before. A couple of candles after being lit, release an aroma, which fill the senses with innumerable desires. Someday I shall live them. Once again, a surety, Purnesh@Panchgani; seeking, telling.

Releasing the shutter

I take another turn. I am home. The day goes by. The evening disappears. The night takes over. I switch on the laptop to insert the memory card. A little window leads me to the folder of PANCHGANI JUNE 1 AND 2. I find myself. Standing solo, in front of a mirror, in the hotel room, releasing the shutter and a thought jumping out of my mind – Purnesh@Panchgani; ready to return again. Where else? But to Panchgani, for writing many sequels hereafter of Purnesh@Panchgani.

-Virtuous Vociferous | June 04 | June Blog-1 | 2018