Nistha's ramblings with new focus on MBA | the practical side

Namaste (and this is the authen­tic one, not some ori­en­tal per­son try­ing some voodoo in Lost!) from India.

Every time I come to India, peo­ple scare me or warn me about vac­ci­na­tions, water etc etc. I am yet to fall sick after eat­ing road­side pani pooris. My immune sys­tem very sweetly sup­ports every patri­otic beat of my heart and I am very thank­ful for that!

I was as excited to see the great Rann of Kutch as I was for Grand Canyon and it was worth every minute I spent in heat stand­ing on the sul­try white salt under my foot. Walk­ing on the Rann was like walk­ing on a spongy water bed. The water would ooze out unabashedly as soon as I put a lit­tle more weight on my foot. The white salt glis­ten­ing in after­noon sun­rays kept me mes­mer­ized till the heat broke my trance. I got to see a very small strip of Kutch but it was ade­quate to trig­ger my imag­i­na­tion into pic­tur­ing the rest.

Long ago, the Rann was cov­ered shal­low with Ara­bian Sea but even­tu­ally water evap­o­rated leav­ing behind a vast reser­voir of raw salt — cre­at­ing a huge salt-marsh. Kutch expands to tens of thou­sands of kilo­me­ters, even reach­ing out to the inter­na­tional bound­ary we share with Pak­istan. Flood­ing eas­ily in mon­soons and crack­ing its heart open in dry sum­mers, Rann could beat the best of nat­ural won­ders any­where in the world.

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