We also had some crazy discussions like who was the  real saviour. Jesus, Hanuman or Mohammed? The great Buddha also became a serious contestant after learning that most of the people on the north are buddhist. Lots of content from this discussions shall remain classified. We even tried to convert Rahul into following Christianity, but he was too attached to Hinduism and did not cave in to our pressure. Having two Roman Catholics and one Protestant, we even thought of a mass conversion and building churches. But that never kicked off.

We saw Pakistan, hot chicks, met Minissha Lamba and some gay actor who’s name I can’t recollect. Almost got killed by a crazy driver (but later realized that Rahul maybe on dope) and almost skid off cliffs on multiple occasions. Got caught in heavy rain, hail and snow in a matter of hours. Ate some stuff that tossed everyone’s stomachs. Rode up and down one of the highest motorable roads in the world, almost froze to death, got punctured tires, trekked for hours and hours together. We even saw some breathtaking landscape, stayed on private boat house, had a dedicated butler, got stuck in some violence in Srinagar and survived. Collectively clicked more that five thousand photographs, had fun and loads of more stuff.

And here my friends, is a documentation of the trip up north!

Part 1: The Cast

We shall begin with the brainchild behind this trip. The one and only John Paul Sankardhas.

You don’t mess with the John Paul. The man hails from the army. His father is the Major Superior General Something Something Big Man in the Army fellow. Basically John Paul sh*ts in his pants whenever his father comes home. Having spent his entire childhood loitering around the hills of North East India, this man was nick named ‘Ibex’ after displaying immense hiking skills on a previous trip to the Himalayas. John Paul takes the final call on disputes during trips. Also, it has been noticed that the women have some kinda fetish for the fellow. In this documentation, we shall refer to him as Johnny, John, Baap, Saale, mallu f*cker, etc. You get the drift.

Next on the list is the machaan from Chennai, Vignesh Anand.

The Machaan is known for his fetish of bikes. Show him something that has a motor, a chain, two wheels and a petrol tank, and he will shut down mating season to ride it. The man is is denial about Tamil Nadu being part of India. Well I can’t blame him for that. He got a bad reputation as far as stamina was concerned, but little did we know that on this trip he would go on to surprise us all. He is also known as the poser, coz he poses for all photographs. But I now think its just a tamil thing and not really his fault. Machaan, will be referred to as Machaan, Vignesh or Vig.

Third in row, the paranoid f*cker, Rahul Rishi.

The other poser. My theory of tamil boys being posers was at stake after this guy start asking me to click his photos. Anyway, the man is from the really screwed up state in India, politically known as Uttar Pradesh. Which is now being split into like 800 parts. Yes, that state where murder is cool and robbery is a family past time. His presence is always appreciated, especially as we are kept entertained non stop. His negotiation skills are really good and his paranoia sometimes reaches to an extent such that everyone around him appears to be murderers and hardcore criminals. He shall be referred to as Rahul, Bosad, Saale, Ch**tya or Rishi.

Number four. The Good Boy. Daniel Peddity.

The above photo was clicked at the start of the trip, when we were in Delhi. It speaks a lot. Daniel Peddity, our nice holy boy, wasn’t too excited about the trip. Right here he was thinking, “Muskit Muskit, safety safety”. It took a lot of convincing, abusing and some pressure from his better half to get him to say yes. Now this is the one person who we did not want dead on the trip. A lot of people depends on the young man. His Church would have to shut down if he died, I am not kidding. When you get a phone call from your Pastor, who is half way down the nation, on why you haven’t come to Church, you ought to be someone important. His hands are gifted. Yes, only the hands. Counter strike champ. Plays the guitar, drums, piano, TT, chess and can basically do anything with his hands. More about him in detail later. Daniel will be referred to as Danny, Dan, Peddity, Peddity Bhai, Satan, Soitan, Muskit and Daniel.

Fifth on the list. Another machaan named Maruthi Raj Manivannan.

This man, I met him for the first time. He is a friend of the original machaan, Vignesh. Besides that, I did not know who he was, I did not know what he did or who he did, but all I knew was that he was Maruthi. He would also land up playing a vital role in reinforcing my theory that all tamil boys are posers when it comes to photographs. Now since I don’t know him too well and he is not within punching distance, I shall not abuse him that much. He is referred to as Maru or Maruthi.

Sixth. Anand Narayanmurthy. No I don’t know if he has a Facebook profile.

This man, yes he sealed my theory on the tamil boy poser thing. He is another friend of Machaan and I did not know him before the trip. He also shall not be abused brutally. He will be referred to as Sharja (no don’t ask me from where that name came), Anand or Sarjah.

And last, Me. Lovell D’souza.

Foul mouthed Goan guy. I’m also in denial when we say Goa is part of India. Clicked like three thousand photos and annoyed everyone with the shutter sound. My role was to throw around 200 highly abusive and sensitive questions to Danny in order to get him to abuse, but failed. I abused Rahul at times too. I documented the trip by clicking photographs, taking GPS readings, recording the paths we trekked and  making candid audio and video recordings. I shall be referred to as Me or I.

And that is the cast. The seven of us who went out to explore the great state of Jammu and Kashmir. Not knowing if we would come back alive. But knowing one thing, that Danny would surely come back alive and would tell the world what brave people we were and what great adventures we went on. The trip up north begins!

Update: Part2: The Dying Sequence is now up.

December 5th 2003, a quiet evening, stars in the sky, Christmas carols echoing throughout the neighborhood. Not always does the day come when metal fans get what they want, when dopers get what they need, when starved unnourished souls get vitamins and syrups, and when people get sacrificed. A weird atmosphere engulfed the surroundings of BTF – 6, Chandranath Apartments, Mapusa.

Not many people were there. Just a few, a few who mattered were present. Just around six people excluding the host. Three rockers and three dopers, of which all were hungry – some for food, others for blood. There was no special Birthday Cake, the only thing that did get cut was the birthday boy, and man he did bleed hard. Blood splattered all around the house, the victim quietly bearing the immense pain. A timely introduction of a waterproof band aid was the savior of the moment.

Initially Sepultura set the ambiance with ‘Roots’. Old friends did some catch up. The script of a movie was reviewed. Then came the dose of Pantera. Rockers head banged and tried to break necks. Though no necks broke, the attempt was worth it. The not so divine intervention of food saved the rockers. Seven people consumed a meal cooked for twenty. With all due respect to the mom who made it possible (Daniel’s mom of course). Those poor chickens who sacrificed their lives for the auspicious day should be now somewhere near the pearly gates of heaven along with the other billions and St. Peter.

Dessert was gobbled down in a matter of seconds. Seven spoons in one single gigantic bowl. The Alphonso mango ice-cream was consumed like a carcass feasted upon by hungry vultures. Then came the period in which all the minds were cooled off and some freaks started to make music videos. A web-cam, a Pentium III, some 256MB RAM made possible some really weird and rather depressing but energetic music videos. Sorry to say that only a limited few will have access to these videos.

What happened next was out of the blues. Four people left. They had had enough. But they went smiling. Left back were three old pals. A rocker, a freak and another rocker. They discussed topics which are too sensitive to be written and tortured and murdered a few mosquitoes. Before long the freak left and one rocker washed dishes, while the other just listen to his shit and offered some shit of his own. The washing of the dishes got over, but the talking went on till around 3:45 am and by 4 am, the two rockers lay dead.