Slovenia-Croatia Day 3: Popcorn for the soul

25 May 2019 (Saturday)

Today was a more relaxed day. The weather was great till 11 am. So we had breakfast till 11 (in the open balcony as Kunal would remind us) and put our feet up! Then when everybody finally got ready to leave for Vintgar Gorge it started raining with a forecast of thunderstorms. We got ponchos and braved it.

While driving to the gorge, I missed the toll collection again (similar to Innsbruck last year where we had a letter in German placed on our car saying something like ‘pay the fine at the counter, or else…’). When will these get automated I said in mock frustration before the uncomplimentary chorus intensified.

The walk along the narrow wooden platform at the gorge was refreshing. The gorge was simply…well – I didn’t need to think too hard on this one –  … gorgeous. And the light breeze and the steady sound of flowing water more than made up for the drizzle which greeted us. I went ahead to walk on my own and enjoy solitude in the midst of the crowd. It was just over an hour’s walk each way. There were lots of tourists jostling for space but I was in my own mind-space. Feeding popcorn to my soul. I was reciting some favourite Wordsworth poems. It was great to be alone and close to nature and intensely feel the cadence of Lord Byron’s words.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.

 

For some reason, the last lines of Wordsworth’s ‘Yarrow Unvisited’ (which I have not read in a long time but know by heart) reverberated in my head. The poet suggests that it is better not to go somewhere than to go and risk being disappointed. He wants to keep the ‘prize’ of an unknown but much-fancied place in his mind so that when he is old and unable to travel he can still look forward to something. He ends the poem poignantly by saying to his sweetheart:

“We will not see them; will not go, 
To-day, nor yet to-morrow;
Enough if in our hearts we know
There's such a place as Yarrow.

"Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown!
It must, or we shall rue it:
We have a vision of our own;
Ah! why should we undo it?
The treasured dreams of times long past,
We'll keep them, winsome Marrow!
For when we'er there, although 'tis fair,
'Twill be another Yarrow!

"If Care with freezing years should come,
And wandering seem but folly,—
Should we be loath to stir from home,
And yet be melancholy;
Should life be dull, and spirits low,
'Twill soothe us in our sorrow,
That earth has something yet to show,
The bonny holms of Yarrow!"

A similar theme, but in a very different context, is evoked in the Urdu ghazal ‘aye jazba-e-dil’ by Behzaad Lakhnavi. It is described in this blog as follows:

https://nookinthewoods.wordpress.com/2013/10/24/ae-jazba-e-dil/

“It is in the nature of longing to never be fulfilled. A deep pain fuels longing, but the pursuit of these longings calls for being benumbed to the shallow reality of the carnival of life. There are guides on the path, but perhaps it is best that they direct you the wrong way just as the destination approaches – for the reality of the destination isn’t the reality of the longing. No longer I seek those kindly eyes, and the grace they gently bestowed. Acquainted with reality, my desire only seeks one obstacle after another. Yet, my friend, remember me. Call out to me, when, on this path of longing, you too are faced with those inevitable scars of life. I will be there.”

This song has been heartrendingly sung by Nayyara Noor, which I can never tire of hearing. I would listen to it later on in a lonely and quiet place, and it would elevate my spirits.

 

ऐ जज़्बा-ए-दिल गर मैं चाहूँ हर चीज़ मुक़ाबिल आ जाए

मंज़िल के लिए दो गाम चलूँ और सामने मंज़िल आ जाए

jazba – desire; muqabil – face to face; gaam – step

 

ऐ दिल की लगी चल यूँही सही चलता तो हूँ उन की महफ़िल में

उस वक़्त मुझे चौंका देना जब रंग पे महफ़िल आ जाए

Lagi – passion; khalish – pain

 

ऐ रहबर-ए-कामिल चलने को तय्यार तो हूँ पर याद रहे

उस वक़्त मुझे भटका देना जब सामने मंज़िल आ जाए

rahbar-e-kaamil – a perfect guide

 

अब क्यूँ ढूँडूँ वो चश्म-ए-करम होने दे सितम बाला-ए-सितम

मैं चाहता हूँ ऐ जज़्बा-ए-ग़म मुश्किल पस-ए-मुश्किल आ जाए

chashme-e-karam – kind eyes; sitam ba-laaye sitam: distress after distress; mushkil pase mushkil – problem after problem

 

हाँ याद मुझे तुम कर लेना आवाज़ मुझे तुम दे लेना

इस राह-ए-मोहब्बत में कोई दरपेश जो मुश्किल आ जाए

dar-pesh – present, confronting.

 

ऐ जज़्बा-ए-दिल गर मैं चाहूँ हर चीज़ मुक़ाबिल आ जाए

मंज़िल के लिए दो गाम चलूँ और सामने मंज़िल आ जाए

 

A bit further down the gorge, Kabir asked us to get ready for a slap. ‘Slap’ in Slovenian is a waterfall and this was one of many we would encounter during this trip. After that we walked through a trail in the forest for half an hour that pointed to ‘Katrina’. Ashwani was in his zone making juvenile jokes about Katrina (the Indian movie actress) and what he hoped to find at the end of this particular trek. Reality, of course, was rather more prosaic.

Yesterday was snow and today was rain. I complained to Kanu that with this group whatever I do I am unprepared. During our first Norway trekking trip, I had turned up in leather shoes thinking we would hit some swanky bars with strict dress codes. This time I have worn trekking shoes but with jeans. Next time I need snow shoes and waterproof trousers.

I discussed Finland with Kabir on the walk back through the gorge to the car park. He has visited the country many times for work and I read about it last night in the book ‘Upheaval: How Nations Cope With Crisis and Change’ by Jared Diamond. It was thought-provoking. How Finland has made peace with its reality (of having a long border with Russia) and lets the friendly relationship with Russia co-exist with its liberal capitalist democracy values was a gripping read and Kabir’s practical experience in dealing with the Finns reinforced some of what I had read. Also how the Finnish language provides a strong sense of identity to the Finns. 

The author states: "Finland's crisis exploded with the Soviet Union's massive attack upon Finland on November 30, 1939. In the resulting Winter War, Finland was virtually abandoned by all of its potential allies and sustained heavy losses, but nevertheless succeeded in preserving its independence against the Soviet Union, whose population outnumbered Finland's by 40 to 1. I spent a summer in Finland 20 years later, hosted by veterans and widows and orphans of the Winter War. The war's legacy was conspicuous selective change that made Finland an unprecedented mosaic, a mixture of contrasting elements: an affluent small liberal democracy, pursuing a foreign policy of doing everything possible to earn the trust of the impoverished giant reactionary Soviet dictatorship. That policy was considered shameful and denounced as "Finlandization" by many non-Finns who failed to understand the historical reasons for its adoption. One of the most intense moments of my summer in Finland unfolded when I ignorantly expressed similar views to a Winter War veteran, who replied by politely explaining to me the bitter lessons that Finns had learned from being denied help by other nations."

We had a late lunch at Okarina restaurant. Rather than ordering from the menu, the waiter offered us what he called a “feast” for 20 euros per person. It was a variety of Indian dishes, and we were hungry, so ‘feast’ was too tempting to pass. We enjoyed the meal and ate to our heart’s content. After that, the others went for a walk around Lake Bled. Mishti and I came back home, and then went for a walk around Lake Bled ourselves. It was a slice of Slovenia that we liked. There was a rock concert going on near the lake with its music reaching far and wide. There were many people flocking to the concert. We did not spot many Indians here, perhaps because Slovenia is still off-the-radar for Indian tourists to Europe. 

We discussed baby names for Shalini and Kabir. I suggested Toofan if it is a boy and Toofani if it is a girl. They said those names were reserved for Ashwani so they would not use it. They already had a ‘working title’ for their baby. It would be called ‘Kibble’ because Kabir had received a misspelt letter from Thames Water referring to him as that.