Halting similarities - Srinagar, Kashmir, Jan. 22, 2010

Log margin notes:
For a supposed warzone the Kashmir Valley bears a striking resemblance to Long Island, my own homeland. A person could say it is even a "halting" resemblance, but of course, there are some differences.
For example, it only took me a few hours after arriving to have a rifle stuck in my face.
It went like this...
One of the main objectives of the trip was to interview a police intelligence official on the first day. That day was also last day in town before he was scheduled to leave for Jammu, Jammu & Kashmir state's winter capital.
After touching down, I rode from the airport to my reportedly terror-free hotel and noticed the brisk, clean air along with the familiar flora. It really took me back home. They even have oak trees. They also have single-family homes with a fresh coat of paint, sidewalks that are in one piece and only one small, visible slum.
Mobile phones from the rest of India do not work in J&K for security reasons, terrorists made dangerous use of the internet and cellphones during the 26/11 attacks. I had to use the hotel office phone for a local call and the intel guy, my big interview, asked me to show in 20 minutes.
I asked the partially-English speaking hotel manager for directions and was told it was a two minute walk; great.
I set out to be early, just in case I got some bad directions... as though that's never happened before. The directions were to go to the police headquarters building across from the "emporium" building. A seemingly abandoned "J&K State Arts Emporium" building sat below the entrance to one of Srinagar's many small river bridges. On the other side of the bridge entrance road was a high-walled complex with no sign, but a sentry post out front. The not-very-English speaking guards of the Central Reserve Police Force asked nervously who I was and what I wanted. They eventually thought they knew who I wanted and a civilian took me through the gate of what began to look more and more like a TV studio. There were satellite dishes and broadcast sets and finally an English-speaking journalist who told me I was on the wrong side of the emporium building.
I was already late when I passed by the sentries at the gate of the TV station for the second time. I walked around to the other side of the bridge. The building looked even more abandoned than before and the path leading to the door was fenced off. Garbage had been collecting at the road's dead end.
"HALT!" I heard from behind me. A spotlight and rifles went up. It was the same guards I had just spoken to.
I waited just a second to hear: "Who goes there?!" I didn't hear it.
I put my hands up and faced the spotlight, "Oh, hi... it's me again!"
"What are you doing?!"
"The Emporium Building!" I said, pointing to the crumbling structure.
"No! You go out, make a left and a left!" the guard shouted back.
"Oh OK, sorry to... almost get shot!" I yelled and ran around the corner to police headquarters.
On the way I saw a better looking building with the same "J&K State Arts Emporium" sign on it and got to the gate of police headquarters out of breath. I asked for the intelligence chief, but he had left for Jammu five minutes earlier.
I missed my big interview, but I had a few other scheduled in Srinagar.
At first the feeling in the city was uneasy. The Punjab Hotel in Lal Chowk, the town square, was the target of a Jan. 7 attack which ended with two jihadis dead.
On the national holiday of Republic Day there was a small military parade held at a stadium on one side of town. Meanwhile outside, the elements supporting independence for J&K went on strike that Jan. 26.
That day the streets were lined with police and paramilitaries, but aside from an eerie quiet, the day passed without incident. Local observers did take notice that after the most hostile fighting in the region in 1990, the Indian flag was not hoisted over Lal Chowk for the first time in 20 years on this Republic Day.
The rest of my few days in Srinagar, before I chased my big interview down to Jammu, were spent admiring the Dal Lake at the base of the Himalayan foothills. My faithful camera had finally given out, but I had my eyes... and ears. The clear air was quiet enough to hear the birds singing.
They even have pretty good bagels there, although they call them something else. They don't come with lox or cream cheese and they definitely don't come with coffee worth anything.
Still, the food up north is heartier and meatier for the cold weather (Muslims are also much less frequently vegetarians than Hindus), and is more like what I would expect from the Asiatic plains, which is often how the people look.
There is more of possibly a Persian look to many J&K residents. Many are very light-skinned, so much so that when I went to pay the clerk for the use of a printer he was surprised at my accent and said:
"Oh, I thought you were a Kashmiri bloke."

NEWS BRIEF - Srinagar, Kashmir, Jan. 23, 2010

Srinagar security heightened ahead of Republic Day
By: Aaron Hochman-Zimmerman
India Defense Minister AK Antony has warned of increased attacks and infiltrations on the Indian side of the Line of Control between Indian- and Pakistan-administered Kashmir.
In Srinagar, the Kashmir Valley's largest city, security has been heightened with more frequent patrols and barricades, the locals say.
A large celebration of the 60th anniversary of the signing of the Indian constitution is planned for Jan. 26 in the Jammu & Kashmir state winter capital. The event plays a large part of the security concern.
The city, with its mountain views and lakeshore houseboats, typically boasts a strong tourist industry, but during what is the tourist off-season, activity on the streets of Srinagar has been calm.

NEWS BRIEF - New Delhi, Jan. 20, 2010

India must see renewable energy as security issue, says Nobel laureate Pachauri
By: Aaron Hochman-Zimmerman
New Delhi, Jan. 14, 2010 - Policymakers in India must do more to secure the energy supply to protect India's national interests, said Nobel laureate doctor Rajendra Pachauri, who won the 2007 Nobel Peace Prize along with vice president Al Gore. He currently heads The Energy and Research Institute in New Delhi.
India is an energy importing country, he said and "we need to use energy much more efficiently."
There is "a multiplicity of benefits" in the renewable National Action Plan his organization, TERI, put forward to the Indian government, he said.
Too much of India's growth has been "short-sided" and too reliant on fossil fuels, he added.
Ever since 1985, when crude oil prices dropped from nearly $70 per barrel to $20 per barrel, with the exception of the 2008 spike, low process have "given us a false sense of security."
When government and industry around the world have shirked their environmental responsibility, "that [energy cost] has been the biggest factor," Pachauri said.
Now, the National Action Plan pushes for research and development of solar and wind energy programs. Small and inexpensive personal energy harvesting devices could one day be distributed to India's poor and remote countryside, "thereby empowering people at the grassroots level," the plan states.
Nuclear power is also part of the larger energy picture, but it is a technology that must be closely watched, Pachauri said.
"Not every country" has the right to nuclear power, he said.
The situation in Iran "is a consequence of arrogance and stupidity" and likely could have been avoided, he said.
He recalled a conversation with a senior U.S. diplomat. The American official could not see Iran beyond the funding of terrorism, he said.
"Iran is not a monolith" and has many more democratic characteristics than some of its Muslim neighbors, Pachauri said "and we need to build on that."
"If the U.S. reaches out, you will be able to strengthen those elements" which want greater democratic reforms and a stronger relationship with the West, he said.
If a true global effort is to be made to fight a truly global problem, the world must work together to build on what was accomplished at Copenhagen where "at least we had an accord," he said of the deal yet to be signed. "The major elements are quite promising."
And it will be governments that must lead the private sector.
"Governments have to lay down policies," he said, even though there is frequently not a lot of political gain in supporting green issues over business.
Still, China, South Korea and the Nordic countries have all demonstrated commitment to the environment and have made investments into new technologies and other energy initiatives.
A next step to bring the corporate sector into line should be "placing a price on carbon," he said.
If a system of trading carbon credits for, essentially, the right to pollute, "the market will respond," he said.
Even beyond what politicians or business leaders can accomplish, "this has to start at the grassroots level," Pachauri repeated from the National Action Plan.
The battle for the environment is a long one and must rely on the proper education of children who can be taught to be sensitive to the issue.
It will then be children "who shame adults into doing the right things," he said.

Hometown Pride - New Delhi, Jan. 14, 2009

(Top: The colors fly over the historic Red Fort; Bottom: An NCO prepares parade troops for Republic Day near India Gate)

Log margin notes:

Today the Lost Nav made a stop at the desk of Rajendra Pachauri. The director of The Energy and Resources Institute (TERI) shared the 2007 Nobel Peace Prize with the USA's own Al Gore.

The interview stuck to general topics, but a personal highlight was the wait before the interview.

I had a few hours to kill after a previous interview with Subhash Arora a local wine expert. I knew the TERI campus featured an American-style diner and I couldn't resist allowing myself to slip back into old habits for a few hours.

The "diner" hit the mark... it was an actual diner.

The pink neon reflected a bright shade of home on the black and white checkered floor. The signs on the walls helped tell the story: Ice Cold COKE Sold Here. Pegasus needed no other words to demostrate the majesty of "Mobilgas."

I pulled up a stool by the counter, ordered a coffee (not an 'Americano' or a tea with milk, but a coffee) and heard our Long Island folk hero, Billy Joel, on the jukebox sing New York State of Mind.

It's not uncommon for a traveler to think about how much home means, but I was also considering something the wine expert, Mr. Arora, had said.

The smaller wineries would really do well if they could band together and market their product, but "everybody is out for himself," he said, adding that it's a national character trait.

As an outsider, I feel uncomfortable making sweeping assessments of 'national character traits,' but this wasn't the first time I've heard the sentiment. Actually, people tell me similar things fairly often. I heard the same thing about Mumbai's ambulance services... the system and the patients suffer because no one wanted to be grouped under a single dispatcher. "Everyone wants to be the best," the doc said.

I think of it every time I anticipate having to answer the impossible question: What's India like?

One difference between what I've seen here and what I see in New York is civic pride. Honestly, from the way I view the world, I see less here. There is probably a greater sense of personal pride than we have in the States, which is obvious when seeing a homeless man scrub himself clean from a bucket of cold water on a 40F day. Or the way men will have a shoeshine before continuing down a muddy street, where trash collection is inconsistent at best. I personally don't bother even though the shoeshine kids are persistent in offering.

People often speak of corruption here. A tea cart vendor on the Main Bazaar tells of police making collection rounds after midnight. He was even worried enough about reprisal to ask: "Are you police?"

It's not that corruption doesn't exist in the U.S., but I think if not more civic pride, we at least have more civic shame. We may still take a few bills from the register, spit or throw trash in the street, shove someone a little to get onto a train, make that illegal u-turn; but we do it with a shred of shame. Here it seems more matter-of-course that all of these things happen.

I am at a loss to say if a greater national pride is growing along with the gross national product, but I do notice a good effort at Delhi's new metro.

The platforms are painted with boundaries and arrows which herd people to the sides of the opening train doors. People, in fact, do stand in a line to the sides of the opening doors in order to let disembarking passengers off. At least they stand in that queue until the moment the doors open; then old habits die hard and the entering and exiting passengers begin pushing each other to get on or off the train.

Some people here, especially in the media, are fiercely nationalist and incensed at the litterbugs as well as the corrupt officials. Everyone has their own private reasons, but all over Delhi there are public signs of the national spirit. The military and police have been going through their paces for the Republic Day Parade on Jan. 26 celebrating the 60th anniversary of the signing of the constitution. Construction dust is in the air and traffic is held up everywhere as the city expands its public transportation by digging new tunnels for the metro. New stadiums and facilities are going up for the 2010 Commonwealth Games.

So back to the impossible question... What's India like? It's different, but it's the same.

NEWS BRIEF - New Delhi, Jan. 12, 2010

Delhi's Burning

By: Aaron Hochman-Zimmerman

A week-long blast of unseasonably cold weather last night claimed the life of its seventh victim, according to reports compiled by the Times of India.

The poor and homeless, who are exposed to the elements and have no access to modern medical care, are obviously the most susceptible. Hundreds are believed to have died across all of Northern India, according to reports.

Dense fog mixed with smog has played havoc on the city's Indira Gandhi International Airport, delaying foreign and domestic air service.

"It's not usually this cold," said Kunal Kumar who has run a chai cart on Delhi's Main Bazaar for 15 years.

Up and down the muddy street of old Delhi people wrap themselves in extra blankets, scarves and hats. They burn anything they can find and huddle around trash fires. The smells of burning paper and ash add a biting quality to the cold polluted air.

Even locals are affected by the weather and hack and spit in the street (which is not uncommon in any season). Westerners who spend long stretches of time in the city speak of the cough they expect to come down with everytime they stay more than a week or two in the capital.

Nationalism of the wrong kind - New Delhi, Jan. 8, 2010

Log margin notes:

The Dec. 29 post titled All are welcome here noted that shopkeepers described German tourists enjoying a daydream of Third Reich glory in a land where the swastika is revered. Of course, the Aryan symbol was brought to the subcontinent by the Aryan tribe who migrated here nearly 4,000 years ago. Today it is hung frequently by religious Hindus for good fortune.

Apart from swastikas, some booksellers say it is Germans buying copies of Mein Kampf sold on the street. However, there is another bookshop owner who tells a different story.

"There are some misguided Indian youth who idolize Hitler," said Nita Puri director of the Central News Agency bookshop on Connaught Place.

She occasionally asks why they buy Mein Kampf.

"He was such a great leader ...," she said is the usual answer.

Many of the Aryan supremacists in India belong to the extreme right wings of nationalist political parties, she said.

"They are not secret groups, they are well known," she said.

However, sightings of actual neo-Nazis are not well known to the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles, according to spokesman Aaron Breitbart.

Further, the German tourists who come into the store are often shocked to see Hitler's memoir, said the fluent German-speaking Puri.

NEWSFLASH - New Delhi, Jan. 7, 2010

Indian ambulances modernize - lack organization, training

By: Aaron Hochman-Zimmerman

A voice from the radio snapped the stream of calm conversation in the ambulance.

The driver geared up to push the crew forward through a maze of morning traffic in North Mumbai. Meanwhile in the back, one medic and one medical attendant made preparations to transport an elderly woman on a ventilator. The siren blared, but traffic was tightly packed.

"We are in emergency and we cannot move," said crew chief doctor Saeed Ahmed of the Ziqitza - 1298 ambulance service over the sound of the siren in his GPS-aided ambulance.

After the 35 minute Mumbai road rally, the crew removed their shoes at the ambulance bay of Prince Aly Khan Hospital and walked inside. Ahmed was briefed on the patient while the crew loaded the stretcher.

It would be another 20 minutes before the crew reached the receiving hospital in Mumbai Central.

During the trip, the woman was never out of the care of a doctor. Her heart rate, breathing and pulse oximetry, the blood's oxygen content, was constantly monitored.

Ambulance companies such as Ziqitza - 1298, Topsline - 1252 and the modern private hospitals have led the way for India's emergency services, but they are small and only in metropolitan areas. Ambulances from municipal hospitals are poorly equipped and are often thought of as just a hearse.

Nationwide, calls are still handled by a varied collection of operators with a range of resources.

The whole system is "far from satisfactory," said Pramod Lele, chief executive officer of Mumbai's Hinduja Hospital.

Most crews plainly have a "lack of expertise," Lele said and are no better than a taxi.

Another chronic problem is the lack of centralized control of emergency assets. Currently, a mix of private companies, political parties, religious organizations and the municipal system operate independently with different telephone numbers, services offered and standards of quality.

Who to call?

"There's no centralized, one single number," said doctor Swapnil Khamare of Hinduja's emergency management unit and some calls go unanswered entirely.

"Many people find it doesn't work," Khamare said.

The public even has a low awareness of the emergency system and how to use it. Many say they would need to call the information line to find the number of an ambulance company.

In New Delhi, St. John's Ambulance Brigade, a volunteer service, has been asked to coordinate ambulance activities for Jan. 26, Republic Day, events since 2007.

St. John's commissioner S.C. Goyal hopes that one day centralized control will expand into the rest of the year, but "the work is enormous," he said.

Goyal admitted that the public's lack of awareness to be a problem, mostly for the municipal operators.

"They tried to give their number through TV and media and so many people don't know," he said.

Goyal double-checked the numbers before stating that 1099 and 102 would connect a caller to ambulance dispatch in New Delhi.

Doctor Mohammad Anees, an emergency physician at Mumbai's Prince Aly Khan Hospital was pessimistic about the prospect of unified command.

"Better communication," is needed between a dispatcher and all of the services, he said "it should be [better], but it is not possible."

"Everybody wants to be the best," he said about the competition for business, however, "the best" is often not very good.

"Night is the worst," Anees said.

"There is not much knowledge," on the part of the crews that arrive at his ambulance bay, he said, but he does not blame the crews themselves.

"What can they do?" he asked with just an oxygen bottle and bandages.

To be effective, an ambulance "has to be a small hospital," Hinduja's Khamare said.

Running a small, rolling hospital

"Sustainability is the most important thing," said Amit Alex, spokesman for Ziqitza - 1298, but his company began with the thought of social responsibility.

Ziqitza - 1298 wants to be accessible to all. It responds to every call without question, Alex said.

The business model provides free care for the poor by charging full price to the wealthy. Up to a 50% subsidy, based on need, is offered for a ride to a government hospital.

Even with such discounts in place, people still neglect to call, he said.

"Indians don't call an ambulance, they take public transportation," he said.

Alex said that his company commits itself to maintaining international standards by training crews to the level of its overseas partner, New York Presbyterian-Weill Cornell Medical Center.

The company is growing, but only in major cities as "you need a large number of rich to subsidize the poor," Alex said, adding that the company also sells ad space on the sides of its vehicles.

Ziqitza - 1298 hopes to prove itself viable in India's eigth largest cities within five years, Alex said.

Topsline - 1252 operates with method of delivering high-speed modern medical care plus a full range of emergency services.

"We have a retail model," said doctor Prabhat Jauhari, Topsline's chief executive officer and "there's a big market for it."

One advantage of the subscription service is that emergency responders have instant access to its registered patients' medical histories.

Jauhari demands that his crews arrive on-scene within nine minutes of a call. If the caller is not a member, the company does not guarantee arrival times as it arranges for payments before a unit is dispatched.

In matters of life and death, Jauhari said "we don't argue about money," but like Ziqitza - 1298, over-zealous charity cannot be allowed to sink the business.

As the industry continues to grow, the Topsline - 1252 model does not suit itself to gathering the ambulance services under one agency, Jauhuri said.

Ziqitza - 1298 would welcome a unified dispatch and communication system so long as standards remain high, Alex said.

To improve the industry, it must find properly trained people.

Most ambulance drivers receive little training, but in the organizations where care is improving, trained medical professionals act as ambulance crew chiefs; although they are typically not certified medical doctors.

If a person graduates with a modern medical degree and goes to work in the ambulance setting, "there is no way he can make a lot of money," said Hinduja's Lele.

Indian ambulance services "are coming up," St. John's Goyal said, but not uniformly.

The countryside still suffers the most from a lack of attention, he said.

"State governments are taking the initiative, things are going on," he said, but "it will take time."

Lions, Temples, Fresh Air: Mumbai - Mumbai, Dec. 12, 2009

[backdated]

Travel log:

After a few days of Mumbai's electric intensity, even a hardened city-dweller can us a few hours away.

For that, locals and tourists head north to Sanjay Gandhi National Park to clear their minds of congestion and their lungs of pollution.

Still, the part is helpless to stop the city's panhandlers, although in the park they come from the simian sort.

Aside from the mostly friendly and very photogenic rhesus monkeys, the park boasts three major tourist attractions: the Kanheri caves of hand-carved stone, the sparkling marble Trimurti Jain temple and a brief safari bus tour featuring white and yellow Bengal tigers, and of course, the lions.

The rest of the park are equipped with cricket grounds, gardens, jungle gyms and a boat pond better suited to the locals.

Begin the journey from city center at either Churchgate Station or the Chhatripati Shivaji Terminus (locals say: CST). The Rs. 9 train to Borivali should take just over one hour. [1 USD = 46 INR] Weekend trains are less crowded than the sardine-can rush hour trains, but even when seats are available, veteran riders (and adventurous tourists) still hang out of open train doors to catch the breeze.

From Borivali Station flag down an available autorickshaw for a short Rs. 15 ride to the main gate. Be mindful that the park is a tourist destination and drivers may try their best to take advantage of foreigners. English can be a difficult with the rickshaw drivers, but if he understood "Sanjay Gandhi National Park," he will under stand "turn on the meter."

After the buggy driver finishes darting through a fierce derby of cars, trucks and scooters, Rs. 20 per person gets you into the park where most of the attractions range from 2 km to 7 km away. Fight your instinct to shoo away the guides shouting offers for tours just beyond the main gate. These un-uniformed, but authorized tours cost Rs. 850 for a car and Rs. 350 for the guide; but a motorcycle tour costs Rs. 650 plus the same Rs. 350 for the guide. Helmets are available for sale at many motorcycle shops in Mumbai, but none of them happen to be in Sanjay Gandhi National Park.

Certainly for solo travelers and even a pair may find it worthwhile to try the park's winding roads on the back of a motorcycle. Bending around each curve stretched out the tension of fighting with the city's hellacious traffic where nearly every inch of street and sidewalk (where it exists) is hotly contested by pedestrians, shopkeepers and vehicles. With the help of the bike, the breeze clears out the oppressive dust and thick air of the city below. The ability to move so freely is completely reinvigorating.

The tour first sets out on the road leading up to the Trimurti Jain temple which sits close to where the slums begin to encroach on the park. The mixing of the two habitats has not been beneficial for either. The park has lost space to the slums and is obviously subject to the waste that its new residents produce. Still worse, in rare cases the park's leopards have been known to prey on children who have, in the evenings, stepped too far from their homes.

Even before the Bajaj Boxer kick-start cycle arrived at the temple, a crowd had gathered around the charming sight of the rhesus monkeys both playing and fighting on the side of the road. People are naturally drawn to their genetic cousins and offer them food, snap pictures and just marvel at their hypnotic "human-ness."

A little farther down the path, the stately marble temple stands proudly astride one of the slums on one side and a field cut for power lines on the other.

Do remove your shoes before walking up the find marble staircase to the first landing and stand beneath three nearly 50 foot tall idols of Lord Adinathh who holds his pose alongside his sons, Lord Bahubali and Lord Bharat.

Dozens more marble idols representing Jain deities ring the outer hall of the temple. Pilgrims who visit and pray often leave offerings of fruit, flowers, incense and rice on the pedestals where the idols sit, legs crossed.

After one loop of the temple and a kick of the ignition, the motorcycle tears on through the forest into a clearing where the forest hills give way just enough to see the road ahead that leads to the Buddhist's hilltop caves.

Before a steep set of switchbacks to the first level of caves, park officers as for another Rs. 100.

The imposing site was carved by hand nearly 2,000 years ago by Buddhist monks. Some were permanently quartered there, but it is believed that the complex was largely used by monks who traveled through the region from all over the Buddhist world.

At the lower level, it is already possible to look across a vast deciduous valley onto part of the skyline at the northern end of the city, about 20 miles away. Opposite the valley, deep within the rock is a towering sanctuary. It's columns and ornate figures are carved around a domed stature which represents, but does not depict Buddha. Many of the tour guides will do their best to recreate some of the morning chants of the monks. The chants may or may not be authentic, but the haunting sounds echo through the hall's acoustics and offer something to prod the imagination.

The climb through the monastery becomes steeper and slightly more difficult as the path continues past the facilities for the monks' basic needs. Living quarters were carved along with more meditation rooms or stalls.

On the opposite side of the dining hall there is a tiered row of one-foot deep laundry basins, which if filled, would drain down the rocks.

Icons are carved at nearly every doorpost and an ancient painting clings to existence on the ceiling of a meeting hall entranceway.

Above the caves, a clearing on one of the higher peaks in the park offers a cathartic panorama which is worth the extra climb.

After a moment of personal meditation head back down and hit the trail to the third attraction on the program, the big cats.

The motorcycle pulls into a field filled with locals and their children on playgrounds and cricket grounds. A park office stands to one side where visitors pay another Rs. 30 for a pass on the safari bus; the only way to see the stars of the show.

Similar to the train ride north, fight your way onto the bus and hope for a window seat near of the camera portholes cut through the protective bars on the windows. The cats remain in their own pens, but considering the damage caused by the leopard population, you never can be too careful.

As the bus makes its way through the forest, the white tiger appears first on the left side. A male struts back and forth while the bus erupts in excitement. The driver pauses for a moment, but soon moves on to a pair of yellow tigers. once sits in the sun while the other makes its own seemingly disinterested paces.

Lastly, the 15 minute ride finds the lions' pen. The popular wisdom is that the cats are most active in the morning, but already by 11 a.m. a lioness is barely visible sitting calmly in a thicket of tall grass. The male lion lounges opposite her, making a display of his teeth while lazily yawning in the midday sun.

Cameras click and the bus pulls away to drop its riders back at the ticket office where the next busload is ready to rush on board.

With the three major attractions filed in memory, the motorcycle makes its way past more forest as well as park housing where many, including my guide, pay around Rs. 1500 per month to live in small villas on the park grounds.

Before stepping back through the gate, which stands adjacent to a highway overpass, turn around back to the park and walk on your own just for a few minutes to the boat pond. Couples or families can rent a paddle boat for Rs. 15 for each person and enjoy a serene leg-powered cruise around the lake.

Up the path from the boat pond is the depot of the park's mini-train which tours a section of the park about every 30 minutes.

If waiting seems like too much trouble, do as the locals and just walk along the narrow-gauge track. The 20 minute ride will take closer to one hour on foot, but the peaceful trackside walk passes by spotted deer pens, more lakes and shadowy lanes away from most of the park's other visitors. Train tracks have a poetic quality which offer a bit of time to contemplate the day's events and what will follow.

Whether by foot or train, once the tracks make a complete loop it is probably apparent that the park's vendors only sell small snacks, fresh vegetables and bottled water. Find a rickshaw back to Borivali Station and into town for your well-earned meal and a cool drink.