Vlogger Mukul Raut

ON THE LIFEROAD,
RESPECTING WHAT HAS HAPPENED, WHAT IS HAPPENING AND WHAT WILL HAPPEN IS IMPORTANT.
RESPECTING NOT JUST IN THOUGHTS BUT ALSO WITH ACTIONS, REMEMBERING AND ACCEPTING IT AS A PART OF YOU.
VALUING AND CELEBRATING EVERY MOMENT SO THAT WHEN YOU LOOK BACK, YOU FEEL CONNECTED TO YOURSELF AGAIN.
IT’S NOT ABOUT GOOD OR BAD, HAPPY OR SAD, THAT’S A PART OF MY JOURNEY, THAT’S ME.
AND THAT’S WHAT IS BEAUTIFUL AND FULFILLING IN ITSELF
BECAUSE IT HAS MADE ME RICH WITH EXPERIENCE.
WHEN I LOOK BACK, I FIND IT’S A JOY RIDE.

ON THE WAY, ON OUR JOURNEY, WE MEET A LOT OF PEOPLE,
VISIT A LOT OF PLACES, EXPERIENCE A LOT OF EMOTIONS,
GET A LOT OF LEARNINGS, SURPRISES, FAILURES, AND THAT IS WHAT MAKES OUR HEART PUMP AND MAKES US SO ALIVE
THAT BY THE WAY WE FEEL ITS WORTH SHARING.

SHARING GIVES ACCEPTANCE TO US AND HOLDS US RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT WE ARE SHARING.
AND THAT RESPONSIBILITY MAKES US SENSIBLE AND ACCOUNTABLE AND REALISTIC NOT RANDOM.

ON THE WAY BY THE WAY
DIARIES.

SHARING GIVES ACCEPTANCE TO US AND HOLDS US RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT WE ARE SHARING.
AND THAT RESPONSIBILITY MAKES US SENSIBLE AND ACCOUNTABLE AND REALISTIC NOT RANDOM.

ON THE WAY BY THE WAY
DIARIES.

One Night Stand

overnight stay with a stranger’s family.

On the way to any destination, there’s always a question,
‘where to spend the night? ‘ So close towards the evening, i start looking for houses where i wish to live and choose one house keeping my criteria in mind and creating an excuse to get in or ask them for shelter for a night. The good thing is so far i have got a ‘yes’ 90% of times at every door i have knocked. May be, there are some places where people still know how to trust and open doors to strangers and share whatever little they have with an open heart. The idea is to experience a life with such people who are still real and unaffected by the fake world (may be i have had an overdose of the fake). I feel there’s a need to put yourself amongst different kind of people, places, values, lifestyles and pace so that you can understand yourself better and feel the difference. So, living with them, working with them, eating and sometimes cooking their food, experiencing their lifestyle and moving in their pace brings you to a new place within you. Who says innocence is dead? Simple still lives. We are sure to experience it when we come out of our own shells, open us to a different kind of life and world with different values, ways and pace.

By the way, it is said, with strangers we are more real. Hence, it is a One Night Stand with what’s real in me.

It’s like something new opens within, when we open to something new.

One Night Stand

with BHILS

On the way to Nandurbar, Dhule District, Maharashtra close to
Khondamali village, there’s an isolated hilly forest area. it’s a no man’s land.
One scorching afternoon, I was looking for a place for lunch where it is impossible to find. I saw a house, a little away from road uphill, thought of taking a chance on that bumpy off-road. When I got there, nobody was there so I turned to leave, just then a woman called out to me ‘bulati hu, bulati hu’. Without listening to my reply, she walked away to get someone from the woods.

After 5 minutes, she returned with her husband. He greeted me a warm ‘Namastey’ and asked me in anticipation ‘Kya kam hai?’ I told him I was looking for a place for lunch. He thought and replied,”Start lunch?! Bohot door tak yaha kuch nahi milega”.”Okay then”, I said and started walking towards my car. After walking for like 10- 12 steps, he called me and asked me in hesitation, “hamare pass jo kuch bhi hai wo chalega toh bana dete hai”. “Yes yes”, I lapped on to the offer as if I was waiting for these golden words. That moment left us with smiles on our faces that were very real and innocent.

His wife started cooking, meanwhile he took me around, showing the place. I realized they were tribals from this place called Bhil and government had given them land to take care off. He started sharing his stories of shikar from this jungle when his wife called us for lunch. She had cooked some rice, some local greens in earthen utensils just for me as they had had their lunch already.

While I was still eating, he proposed me ‘aaj ruk jao yahi’ , I instantly agreed. He informed me that they lived about a km away.Happy about having found a place to stay overnight without effort, that too in a beautiful jungle, I got relaxed and took a nap.

Late evening, he took me there. it was a mud house, not so small. While he went in to get a charpoy for me, he instructed the woman inside to cook something special for me. I wondered who this new lady was, later he told me he had two wives. At night it got very cold, so they both lit a campfire and we enjoyed simple yet delicious food by the fire. After finishing the kitchen work, all women gathered around the fire to enjoy hukka.
That night I slept under the stars after a long time.

Next day, woke up to a beautiful sunrise and hot milk. I saw children playing some local games and I joined them in the fun. At first, they were shy, then they opened up and started explaining the game.

After I had played to my heart ‘s content, he took me to a stream for a bath and to wash my car. When it was time to go, he handed me some food for the way andgifted me a bow and arrow, which belonged to his wife who was supposedly a very good archer.

He asked me if I could do some paperwork for him in district forest office. I was more than happy to be of any help to this kind family. i left with gratitude in my heart for this unexpected meeting and sadness of not being able to meet them again.

One Night Stand

with GONDS

On the way to my ancestral farmhouse, passing from Dhanoli village in Maharashtra, I spotted a house where this person lived who used to work in our farms many years back. I remembered that whenever l had met him in past, he would invite me to his home. So, this time while crossing this area, I visited his place. When he and his wife saw me, they were surprised and overwhelmed at the same time. Since my childhood whenever l visited my farmhouse, they would see me. They had seen me growing up in all these years. As they received me with disbelief, l could see deep affection in their eyes. Uncle rushed to the well to fetch water, washed my feet and hands and took me inside.

They made me sit on a wooden charpai and they both excused themselves to another room. I understood that they did not have anything to offer me to eat. So she sent uncle to the market to get something. Meanwhile she made tea for me, asked about my parents and started telling me how l was as a child. When uncle came back, he had one bag in hand, which he gave to aunty and declared apologetically to me, “time lag gaya, market door hai”.

It was early evening so he took out another charpai and made my bed in the open and said smilingly, “aaj yahi rukna hai aapko.” l nodded in agreement. lt was a too loving an invite to refuse. Saying this, he gestured that he was going to get veggies from the farm I decided to tag along.

When we came back, I crashed on the charpai and don’ t know when l fell asleep. I got up with aunty’s call, “khana kha lo”. She had cooked bhindi. Clearly, she still remembered bhindi was my all-time favourite vegetable.
While having dinner, we spoke about the machaan in the farm. I insisted on spending the night there. They were not open to the idea but l convinced them eventually. Next morning, I woke up with chirping of a flock of parrots around the machaan. I brushed with some coal, tried goat-milk tea and spent time with their grand child who was about 12 years old. After that uncle took me to the farm to pick some vegetables so that I could carry them home. While leaving, I clicked a few pictures of them and promised a frame of those pictures in the next visit I left with some beautiful memories of childhood and lots of gratitude.

By the way, I was lucky that I could send them their framed pictures” just as i promised.

Matchfixing

onthewaybytheway

In some parts of India, fate of two lives is still decided by two families like a business deal.

On the way to Bikaner, I stopped for a stretch-my-bodybreak in Jhunjhunu . A group of villagers in colorful turbans, sitting in a circle as if attending a round table conference caught the attention of my curious camera. i thought it to be a political meeting so i tried to sneak my camera in for a closer view. I asked a young chap who was also a part of the crowd to place the tripod right in the middle of commotion.

And I myself camouflaged with the crowd and slowly started sinking into the scene as if I was meant to be there. The secret vibe was that they seemed scared of me thinking me to be a journalist. But honestly i was scared of being in their territory. However, slowly i got comfortable to the point that I took the camera in my own hands and started capturing more up-close and personal.

I witnessed the discussion getting intense with volumes rising every now n then. As the drama built, l started listening to the conversation more actively.
I realized it was not a work meeting but a gathering of two families, which had come together to fix a match in marriage. In fact ,it wasn’t just two families discussing the protocols, the ‘len-den’, the dos and don’ts but even the village panchayat, mukhiya and other important people outside the family were apart of organizing this deal. it seemed the marriage was not between a girl and boy but between two families and two societies. I had only heard about such alliances in stories of yesteryears.

By the way, wondering if the couple will ever meet before the wedding day and hoping the surprise turns out pleasant for both!

Shakir-Jakir

onthewaybytheway

On the way to Aurangabad, I stopped for chai at a small village named Udangaon. At the tea stall, I heard harmonium playing somewhere close by. My curiosity pulled me in the direction of the sound. I reached the place and surprisingly it turned out to be the house of local shayars- Shakir-Jakir , two brothers, humble and blessed with the heritage of shayari. Basically ,they were khandani shayars, their many generations have been into shayari and funkaari.

They welcomed a stranger whole- heartedly and in no time the whole family joined in the conversation. While having lunch, l asked them , ‘kuch sunayenge’.

The place was small, so they took all instruments outside their house under a tree.The whole village gathered in excitement.The setup of an almost-concert, on the backdrop of an old masjid and the energy of villagers made me reach out to my camera.

In no time a humble request turned into a private-mushaiyara and a treat for the villagers. Lucky to have met the gifted jodi and their warm family, and of course, grateful that their musical journey reaffirmed to me the value of sticking to the art.

By the way, after this rendezvous, a new playlist was added to my music.

Fun Mums

onthewaybytheway

Elder sisters are fun mums
On the way to my parental house, is my brother’s house where my three nieces live. l often stops there for regular catching up. This time when I spent a few days with my nieces, all three are different age groups, l realized how girls are born-mothers. l noticed how my elder nieces would play mommy to the younger ones. They would effort lessly nurture, care for, cuddle like a mother and yet gang up with the youngers in mischief. Actually, sisters are like partners, in care and crime both. I feel younger sister’s are often more comfortable with elder sisters than moms.

MASTI

POOCHA

PEEK A BOO

BARBIE LOVE

SAITANI

TERA MERA

CHOTTI MUMMY

TEDDY BEAR

By the way, they play mom to me too.

Tughlaq

onthewaybytheway

A strange pull
On the way to my everyday Delhi drivetime, lies the ruined fort of Tuglaqabad. My fascination for the fort makes me feel as if I have known Tuglaq personally in some era and that he welcomes in every time I go there. Often, I have spent time sitting and imagining its past. I have even cooked some stories in my head looking at different structures, which lie abandoned for many years. Once I gate-crashed with my friends after midnight looking for a scary experience and came back running in no time because luckily we got what we asked for.

By the way, Delhi’s sunset looks very beautiful from the top of the fort ruins and it still calls me every time I cross it.

a solo trip to

Nepal-Bhutan-NorthEast-Bangladesh

in my truck.

I understand there are phases in life.
But this was certainly not a phase but something
that required starting of a new life itself.
I knew it was time for rebirth.
I have always had a deep urge of staying a kid
but I noticed that time and surroundings
were making me more of a man and that too a matured man.
Which i never had the inclination to be.
I just knew that kid had to be born again.
This feeling poked me and pushed me into a direction
where I could put myself into a womb again.
I think womb is a place where you are alone in the dark,
you have no clue who is the mother,
who is taking care of you, who is feeding you.
You are just there, waiting to be born.
This journey was like being in a womb for me.
I had no clue where I was going,
I just set out fearlessly on a difficult terrain
with floods, heavy rains, scary mountains,
overflowi.ng rivers, landslides, slippery valleys,
off roads- all alone in the wilderness.
Sometimes spending dark nights in tents,
sometimes sneaking in unknown lands,
with no network-no phone. in a period of gestation.
Developing and birthing within me enthusiasm,
curiosity, innocence, fearlessness
and openness to what life brings.
Preparing for the New.