A rendezvous with Geminids Shower

“What are we but shooting stars, hoping to shine long enough to make at least one soul believe in the magic.” Sherry Namdeo

December 13, 2020 – It was fifteen minutes past eight when mom and I reached Moratandi Toll Gate. The place looked as usual with cars, trucks, and two wheelers plying to and from Pondicherry. Of course, there were police men who randomly checked cars packed with people. We expected a bunch of campers at the Toll Gate but it rather looked quiet. We made a quick call to confirm if someone was present to direct us to the camp site. After a couple of minutes, a gentleman called Charles sporting Outdoor Being’s t-shirt approached our car. He was accompanied by another gentleman by name Vimal from Outdoor Being, I presumed. They had a bunch of sheets with names of the participants. They marked our presence and asked us to wait. It was not long before the place flooded with swarms of people.

I was growing anxious for I did not want to miss sighting even a single shooting star. It was nine thirty when we finally started. There were bikes, and cars, one behind the other: A neat array of star gazers. We did get confused at a couple of places on which turn to take. We had to reach Thazhuthali, a village in Mailam district. A final left from the main road, about 20 kilometers from Pondicherry, was Thazhuthali. One could already spot Mars from the road. The road had ups, downs, and potholes. Patches of the road were lined with houses while others were lined with lush paddy fields. After about twenty minutes, we finally reached the destination – Sristi School.

Shristi school is meant for the intellectually challenged. There were learners over there to welcome us. They were as excited as us. The school had long corridors from the entrance enclosing a lawn. We were asked to sit in the lawn and pials until everyone arrived. I still looked at the night sky, the pitch-dark sky. I could see stars, much more than what I would otherwise see within city limits. Following that, Puvi, another comrade from Outdoor Being briefed us on the dos and don’ts during the camp. Ebin, yet another comrade talked about Sristi school, its students, and the activities carried out. They focus on teaching irrigation practices for the intellectually challenged and instill in them a sense of independence and empowerment.

The campers were asked to introduce themselves. Shruti, mother of a six-year-old and a content writer, introduced herself. Later, her daughter introduced herself, albeit in a shy way. It was already time for tea and snacks.

After tea and snacks, the campers were asked to move to the two terraces. The staircases were misty with the fog. But without any difficulty, everyone went up the stairs. One could see the silhouette of trees, and high-tension transformers from the terrace. But the stars came in calling.
Everyone laid out their mats, and bed spreads in no time, lied down, and watched with amusement at the stars. The first shooting star descended and everyone went ‘ooh’. The family behind us made wishes, embracing the age-old myth that wishes made while watching shooting stars come true. Well, if that is so, the Geminids shower that night should have granted a million wishes.

Geminids, as the name suggests, refers to the meteor shower finding its out from the Gemini constellation. The source of the Geminids shower is possibly a rock comet or an asteroid which on crashing with another flying object had left out space debris. Every year, in the second week of December, the debris comes in contact with Earth’s atmosphere and burns down. Shooting stars are streaks of the burning debris. The Geminids started appearing in the 1800s and have been one of the most prominent meteor showers every year. Under favorable conditions, one can spot around 120 to 130 meteor showers. Well, so what made this Geminids meteor shower to be kept at the pedestal is that it occurred on the day of a new moon day making the sky watch all the more beautiful. All of this was explained by Hari Shankar, an astronomy enthusiast and asteroid discoverer. Other majestic appearances of the day were Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and the hunter-Orion.

As we were lying down and being mesmerized by the shooting stars, a green laser was shone every now and then to check the visibility of the night sky. Soon, there was a quiz for the young campers. It was about 2 a.m., when we served with hot, piping tea again. Holding the hot tea in between the palms was the only relief to the biting cold. We got back to watching the shooting stars when all of a sudden, some clouds shrouded the otherwise pitch-dark sky. Such a put-off! But all thanks to the wind, the clouds wafted out of view within a few snaps. For a while, I tried capturing pictures of the shooting stars but all in vain. I was able to capture just one and I was happy. I did not want to spend the remaining time peeping through the camera. As dawn approached, we could spot more shooting stars as expected. I could spot a total of 35 shooting stars and one of the campers spotted about 70.

The watch came to an end as the organizers called us for the campfire. We went to the site of the campfire. The wooden logs were a bit moist to catch fire in the beginning but in no time, the phoenix rose high. Yet another relief to the night’s cold. That brought us to the end of the camp and we were accompanied by the organizers to the vehicles. The event was a reminder that we are just meagre star dust in the far-flung colossal universe.

Blog Post for Outdoor Being

A rendezvous with Geminids Shower

The good, bad, and ugly of a broken foot

Falling down and breaking my bones is an art that I have been practicing over the years with no dedication but with supreme success. All thanks to the way I walk- sloppy frog jumps, drunken duck walk, mad mouse hops, and so on. Add to it my eyeballs which can shuttle back and forth, up and down at the speed of light. This should tell how the art form comes so naturally to me. Every time I fall down, my poor bones would beg for an extra week of rest but my mind is too ambitious to let them stay in bed. I would give discourses on how my will power wins over physical fatigue and illness, but the truth is staying indoors for more than a day is dead boring.

Something different happened this time confining me to bed for about a month. It was a breezy Friday evening and I was walking down the usual road in my usual way to catch a bus for dinner with a friend. Stepping over a small stone, I twisted my ankle and sensed a sharp pain but it was nothing compared to the torture of my hunger pangs. Note the point, I did not fall down. I hopped into the bus discarding the pain and started dreaming the sumptuous dinner I was about to have. As I delved into the crispy roasted chicken legs, a slight discomfort knocked my foot and then a chicken egg-like structure developed on my foot. This was followed by an unwilling yet necessary visit to a nearby hospital. The doctor confirmed the pain to be from a fractured bone and my mom whom I had called by then confirmed that I am the most reckless kid ever. So there was a constant downpour of advice on one side and plain bashing from the other for the next few hours.

I had to keep my leg straight with constrained movement. The doctor’s advice sounded like the starting line of a Physics problem. My calf bone had to be at an angle of 20 degrees from the bed and my foot perpendicular to the calf bone. I began my sedentary journey at home and for most days, there was incessant rainfall and gloomy weather outside. My worrisome granny kept shooting me with questions as to how exactly I broke my leg. She was not even close to accepting the reason I gave. I guess, it sounded too silly to her. ‘Did you ride a hefty bike and fall down?’, ‘ Did you jump down the stairs in five steps ?’, ‘ Did you pick up a fight with someone ?’ were some of her thousand queries. God, I was furious in no time but that did not stop her. She would pity me for a while and again start the full-fledged inquiry. It still goes on.

One thing that pleased me beyond all expectations during the crummy period was the food. The aroma from the kitchen would dance through the air, tickle my senses and rub out the wobbliness from medicines. What could be better than some piping hot food on a rainy day? There was no denial when it came to food and by then my mom had understood the secret to keep my mouth shut from ranting. I had more ice creams than I had the entire year. The bliss of good food kept my neurons from firing in random directions but the day came.

My mind no longer wanted to agree with my leg. The battle had begun.

Suddenly, I wanted to walk, run, jump and play somersaults all at once. The tension kept building up my toes and my leg was no longer obedient to what was good. Once my mom leaves for office and my granny gets busy cleaning the garden, I would creep out of my bed in silence and spring to the nearby window. Cautiously, I would wander the room always at close vicinity to the bed with one foot always up. Oh, what relief! The blood rushing down the legs felt like little fairies caressing the wounded with feathers-delightful. It was bad, I realized soon. Pain oozed up and down my feet every night I did the secret hopping. Nights were becoming nightmares with extreme pain.

From then on, I had to entertain myself without hopping and started watching action-packed movies religiously. That was the best part that helped me have the most vivid dreams- I did all that I couldn’t do in reality. I was walking up the hills, being chased by animals and shooting down the zombies. The dreams were powerful, exuberant and projected me as a quirky ninja warrior. During one Jurassic park dream, I woke startled thinking a dinosaur had caught my leg but then it was my mom who was patiently adjusting the posture of my foot.

I am marching (slightly crippled) towards the day when I will be able to jump and play gleefully again. As usual, I promise to be more careful from now on but does that even work?