Nostalgic memories

My Zongpa (one amongst my grandpa; I had eight grandpa in total of which now lives one).

One day as I sat in the open verandah, trying to think of what I was just told, when I was still a kid made my eyes turn to the huge white sheet of ice on the mountain in front of me.

This is what I was taught on that day.

A koan, as one calls it in Buddhism, one of the most famous stories of Tanzan.



Tanzan and Ekido were two monks who were once traveling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain was falling.

As they came around a bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to raise herself since she was injured by some passing vehicles and as she lay there, she desired help.
“Come on, girl,” said Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud and left her at the village gate, the village where she belonged.
Ekido did not speak until the night when they reached their temple. Then, as he entered the temple, Tanzan moved towards his destination, whereas Ekido moved towards the main monk’s chamber. As soon as he entered, he bowed and immediately began to speak, no longer being able to restrain and refrain himself.

He recited the whole story to the old monk. After a while, the old monk summoned Tanzan, who was wonderstruck, at this sudden call, since he was unable to understand as to what might have been wrong, and it was almost time to retire.

Entering the chamber, he immediately bowed. He was alone with the old monk. Ekido was sent back to his chamber and he was feeling happy that he had understood the rules better than Tanzan.

The old monk’s appearance was grave. He looked Tanzan straight into his eyes and asked, “Is it true that you carried a woman the other day on your shoulders?”

“Yes, master it’s true.”

“May I know the reason behind such an act?” He was grave.

“She was wounded and it was raining and she required help.”

“We monks do no go near females, it is against rules.”

Tanzan kept his head low, “I am not carrying her still.”

“Hmm, I see.” After a long pause, the old master asked him to leave the chamber,

“Do not forget to send Akido, I have some errand to meet.”

“Yes master,” he bowed and closed the gate behind him.

Akido walked in. With his recent achievement he walked in with vigour and happiness in his heart, he was expecting a reward.

He bowed and after another prolonged silence, the master lifted his eyes to Akido.

“I spoke to Tanzan. I saw that he left the girl, just at the village gate, then, why do you still carry her on your shoulder?”

“What do you learn kids? It’s a nice morning and this is no class.”

No one knew what to make of the story. It was a nice sunny morning and we heard a story. It was nothing more than that.

Zongpa laughed aloud, he bent down and touched the floor, then straightened himself back.

“Okay, I will tell you, what little I have learnt.”

1) Letting go- it means when in your life, you meet bad people, bad moments, bad events, rough tides, confusing, insensitive, selfish people, then let go of them. They are not yours, they can never be, no matter how much they pretend. Beware, children of any pretence. Look into the eyes of every being. Pretence cannot hide long. Let go as soon as you recover from the shock.

2) Do no go back to wrong people, places, events and occurrences, if you have to still go back, detach yourself and slip out as soon as your necessity is done. Remember, never be pleased towards those who pained you and were giving you an opportunity, they give you the chance since they are selfish and have been bad to you, be grateful to the universe though for creating a fulfilment of your needs and also be grateful towards those who let you fulfill your need, but once done, at once leave.

3) Never ask for more. Just enough for survival. In that way you stay on the other end of desires.

4) If you need to, then create illusions, but never harm. An illusion of harm can save you from doing some real harm. The same trick which makes movies and this world, it can save you more than you can imagine.

5) Hold on to people you really think are true, and then also feel are true. Never leave them.

6) Learn to see clearly without any filters, this will also save you.

7) Learn to run, will help every time. Fight has never helped, will never help, but flight will.

8) Do not be like Akido. They are common. Be like Tanzan. They are rare and valuable and if you find one more around you, and if the other also recognises you, remember to try being close, if the world of the other is already not inhabited.

9) More so, try to have compassion towards all, even if you are in despicable situations, despite them being anyone or anything. A dog, a crow, a sparrow, a lizard, all are in need of constant compassion and compassion grows when you share, it is a reaction which grows he other way around.

10) Learn to forget, forgive and move on. You should never go back and be friends with the ones you forgave. It might have been really a bad deed that you had to forgive, do not believe again the same who have hurt you enough to make you forgive them, you can try some other resource lest they truly repent the deed, yet be careful, repentance is an act and there are many actors in this world.

Live above all, learn to be compassionate to parents, love them, but fight them if they are wrong since life moves on, and we humans can get stuck at one place, we have to fight our way out, even if it is with your gods. Fighting is not synonymous to disrespect and hatred. It is rather antonymous. Never waste your fights on people and Gods who don’t matter to you.

As I end this, I still fail to understand if I am missing the sun and the mountain or the moment I heard these words.


Lessons from LEH

Choden gambles still, with her life, her husband gambles with his life in Siachen, her child gambles in going to school and coming from school which is far, far away. My howlers, one in deathbed and one old and senile, gamble and are the longest living in nubra neighbourhood. Her mother in law gambles and is happy with the results.

Life is moving and happiness lies in knowing that some places, things and people never change, no matter what goes in and out in narrow mad worlds which pollute parts of living and life itself.

I learnt:

Gambling is a wonderful art to be practised in life, I learned, the same gambling saved her at such a height each day. The same gambling saves her husband in Siachen, the same gambling saves her son everyday while he goes and comes from a school so far, even her mother in law practices the same gambling which always comes out right for her and now they are friends.

Life is not small, we make it small with our fears, then comes others fears. We may not always have the energy to counter others fears, to neutralise them, so we should flee in such times.

Friends and family are not ones who belong to your creed or caste or religion or fantasies and rigid thoughts. The real friends and family are those with whom you share and care from the heart.

There is only one religion, the religion of humanity and kindness. Nothing can surpass it, nothing should surpass it, and when these two are surpassed, we would find what we find in our world today.

Dogs are indeed man’s best friends and so are Aquarians in the age of Aquarians. Only, they should be grown up enough to know their true worth. No man can then touch what they touch, no man can then see what they see, and they are around means I am safe, they are around means I have friends. Their abstract ideas, most of them can change the world to a better place, given the aquas mature and then take such decisions and not due to the pressure which gets created inside them the moment they invade the earth, the moment they know they are different and meant to work differently by staying in masses. Mad geniuses who should be given a chance to colour this world, the colours would surely be more than the ones in the rainbow. When sag and Pisces is around I have common grounds.

The beauty of life lies in ignoring those who harass you, bully you, attempt to cheat you, show you down and knowing, if you have drawn them to this or were they mad enough to have brought the madness to themselves. If you are the cause, then you must rectify yourself immediately, if possible leave them in peace. If it’s them then also you must leave them but this time to let yourself be in peace.

My zongpa knows so much, yet had the courage to leave the world. The unattached within the attached, the reality within the fakeness, the truth amidst lies, the fearlessness within fear, the selflessness in midst of selfishness.

Age is just a number in our minds creating a fear which immobilises us to do great things in life. Never pay attention to it, as long as you tick.


I have no idea how long I lay there, but I know that I sound a little filmy in this statement.

“Wake up, wake up, have some food, you are fine, we are fine, look.”

I opened my eyes, they pained in the ridges, vision still blur, I could still feel my cloak and see the blue peeping out of heaps of quilts. I sensed my arms, painful they were, then my legs, one ached and throbbed. The other seemed to pain like my arms.

“Wake up, you are fine.” She chirped her white tooth emanating one by one as her smile grew into a grin and then a broad grin.

“I will call all.” She sprung up and slithered through the dim door into the open bright light.

I heard her beautiful voice ringing through the corridors and slowly, in some time, small heads popped in, and then bigger heads.

A smile illuminated the room, a smile so bright that no darkness could touch it, so soft that it was softer than yak cheese.

She spoke for 4 days with my family using my mobile mimicking my voice, and then I spoke as usual.

It was hard but she did a great job.

I had never been in a place where people did not notice or die to find a fault with other people, even the most serene ones I had been to, but this was different. None of the eyes oozed any inclination to do that act. The nuns became friends, I spoke with my zongpa whom I had known for long, he had come down. I still don’t know where I was, since we were driven to Alchi in the night by one of the nuns and an old monk. This compassion healed me, years of tiredness which I acquired in the days I spent in troubled lands. Choden still lives, so do I, so does everything and everybody who, mattered to me on the trip. She has no mobiles and we talk rarely, twice in two years, or three years, since we don’t share our struggles, all we share with each other is our peace and immense respect for each other. The nuns had taught us telepathy which is nothing but the state where no thought persists except one that I want to raise strong and long and more often it is Choden who is on the other end, when I try now.

It is build on faith, the faith that we would never give up on each other, even though we may never meet again, since she has many higher places where she lives and I have not climbed any higher since I left. The wholeness I gained helps me survive till now, how long more, I do not know. And, then, I might have to journey again.

“Faith is a knowledge within the heart,

Beyond the reach of proof.” Kahlil Gibran.

On the way back, as I asked her, “by the way, who is the pessimist here?”

She winked and chirped, “Of course, you. Who else?” She shrugged.




Not that I was healed, but the wounds had stopped bleeding once oozing out mercilessly from the gnashing wounds. The horror is far less when your own suffer, than when millions around you suffer in the same way,

Question was suffer for what and how and why? Even if I rationalised my pains, I could not forget the millions of dry faces I met in the hospital alleys and streets, expressing one single doubt in unison,

“Would I live?” A chorus which all sang together, including the patients and their near and dearest ones. It was perhaps better to be a nurse or a doctor perhaps, since at last they at least survive from suffering the guilt of inaction. Twelve years down the memory lane, i go back to maps, lest I make a mistake in the names I left long ago, an urge closes in each time as I hear them on my mental billboard, a pang runs deep and wild like forest fire to return to simplicity. As I yearn for simplicity I admit I cannot be a pauper any longer, whether I want to live or I want others to live, and so I strive to earn the lifeless yet valuable gift aka doom of the world- money. I promise myself that one day I shall return and return and return, if not I get a chance to stay for long.

Upshi to Alchi was almost 108 kilometres, it was very different from Uttarakhand and Himachal the ones most visited by me.

Hemis, Phey, Shey and then LEH bypass to Alchi. Women are safe and believe in simple trust.

“I need a day or two in LEH and hen back to Manali, Delhi and back home 2.”

She was a February born, 4th day one. They always stand by my side. Mostly without much return, except a few narrow and ill developed ones who have not yet realised their hugeness.

The howlers were tired, I stopped to feed them, just when this awesome idea struck her beautiful head. There was a not so steep hill which if crossed we could cover and reach the other side of the road in lesser time than the one that we took now, she was far knowledgeable so I followed her, but unfortunately I was in the pedals, and soon in the elevations, with the two howlers beside me and Choden behind me on the carrier I lost it, the controls were gone and we slid down as though there was no friction to stop us anywhere on the hill slope.

Finally, we slid to the road and then to the other side of the road and off in the blankness we both hung like tomatoes or brinjals on the tree called our bicycle, the two howlers trying to rescue us emphatically however of not much use. I hung by my cloak which was half torn and she hung by her dark coat. We lay hanging from a conical boulder on which was strung the bicycle and on the bicycle were we. The previous moment I was cycling and now I was dangling into nothingness. How much more can life be fun? She chirped, banged, yanked, did everything to show that it was all my fault. She was an Aqua and I a mere Sagi, after all, how could it be her fault, silently leaving me to suffer as she slipped into her self denial mode.

She thankfully concluded, “A pessimist is a person who has to listen to too many optimists.”

It was nine thirty at night, and the only source of light was my radium lit watch and the four eyes of the howlers. A nipping wind, slithering and rattling sounds, drove out the little courage we mustered. Six hours, not a soul passed. The wound on my leg was bad and I knew it won’t be long before I breathed my end, she knew it as well but none of us could risk anything, so she decided we would wait for another half an hour or else she would start to descend the loose gravels, either one would go  or both would go or both would survive. She wanted to gamble, her favourite game which she plays each time when she is not sure. That is how she made her Sagi with a clean heart hubby survive in Siachen, that is how her child comes back and goes to school each day, that is how she and my dogs live each day. That is how, now even her mom in law survives. Amazing life skill it is, I must say – knowing to gamble, to be a gambler she right time and right place.

Now comes a jeep, rumbling and roaring with the gravels beneath. She commands the howlers to stand on the road and bark, which they admiringly obey. I am supposed to pluck the gravels and throw them on the direction of the jeep without disbablancing the bicycle, as I hung nearer to the road and she hung on the dismal nothingness due to the tangential placement of the conical form.

She would fly her bag in the air, now I didn’t exactly know how that would work, but she said it would so I believed her again.

Finally, all worked as she directed the people to our position in the language of the hills, I had lost it by then and as the darkness closed in, I remember nothing much that a nun carried me in her arms to the jeep, her benevolent and compassion filled face gave me no fear, as I snoozed down.

to be contd…..






A day more and then I left again the safe abode of the hotel. They might not have seen any other ways in which they could talk to me, so they left me to be one with the Road.

After all, how much can you think of poking a stone, or what good can it bring, from a person who had an air which smelled of ashes from a recent fire. The road was a solace-

The LEH MANALI highway.

I walked it mostly, only taking a HMVN bus when I had to reach the next lodging before dark. Only one night I was stranded in the open since the only jeep which passed me, carried four drunk men and as soon as I understood trouble was near, I quickly ran through a detour which I knew very well. That night I spend in the cliff and as I settled down to make my tent, I saw those men take then traversing zig zag road, looking on each side, as if imagining to find me somewhere hidden in their own barrenness. I had not reached Rohtang. The place has so many alleyways to escape anybody in this world. You just have to know which takes you where and how to not get lost. You need to be agile and strong, and quick. All this is not a problem when you are well versed.

The wind was cold, dusty, standing in brownish glory. The smell of these rugged terrains begin in these regions and they won’t leave you ever after as long as you remain in these lands. The dry winds required some deep moisturising and I carried one with me. As I pulled the tent up and made all arrangements it became darker, I carried two lamps the ones which stayed in winds, filled them with oil as the last ray of light left me. I was so tired and the light brightened my tiny little tent making it warmer than I had imagined so much so that I could remove my socks. A pair of howlers came closer, sniffing my tent, they never were a problem, I have always felt that it is humans who pose a constant threat to fellow humans. I fed them and my tummy. They ate well and both took refuge in my tent, in the warmth, little did I know that they would become my best pals in the journey and also that I would be able to find a home for them once I left the valley.

Their presence removed the last bit of fear from me and I think in the middle of the night I could hear their breaths as well as mine. The road was travelled early by me, I went through so much of dreams planning to make it my home, many years ago when I was still with my milk set of tooth. The winds kept posting my little modest tent, I prayed whole night so that it remains in place, dying in cold winds would not perhaps, be a suitable end to such a wonderful endeavour of a soul.

On foot, on bus, on the jeep of a benevolent yet tired woman, tired of life, tired of fraudulism, with two daughters, scared and shaken, she smiled at me like a twig gently rustling in the breeze. She had enough space for my two howlers and I took the back seat with her daughters. She was in quest of a land somewhere up here, so that some years df her life she could be at peace with herself and the world.

She asked me “aren’t you scared? Far away all alone.”

I nodded a “no.”

Fear is a big word, I have always felt. It is spread by those who know mostly nothing about life and is absorbed by those who also know little about living. Amidst the hugeness, I felt like a tiny tot, with very less space for fear. Walking past the Beas river occasionally made me feel like the water itself.

I had crossed Rohtang la on day 3.

I had a great urge to turn to Spiti valley, since it would be such a rendezvous in itself via the Kunzum pass. However, i stuck to the plan. A school teacher from spiti was my friend and guide in these confusing times. She was someone who did not throw me away, for whoever meagre I was. She is like, doted sister to me, though now, we are far apart.

She said, “you will benefit from me less now, than yourself.”

Those words rang in my ears as I stood listening in a telephone booth in Rohtang la. Her voice had the silence of the mountains and her laughter was like the bells on the neck of an yak.

Her child was a meagre seven year old son who had come to Rohtang la with all the gifts which her mother had sent for me. He was a jolly kid, who was overjoyed to see the two howlers beside me. He had brought a camera, so we took lots of pictures, he gave me one of his mother’s picture and left at almost four in the evening as I descended a bus with my two howlers scaring the hell out of a few seated passengers.

I saw him vanish in the roads in his bicycle.

As I opened my little cloth sack, there in I found a bell, a rotating wheel, a warm long yak blue cloak with zips all around, a pair of shoes and socks, locally made and some yak cheese, momos and dry bread for the road. We shared a big bread then and there immediately.

I was rich for sometime and I knew the Lords watched me.

Kaylong, Jispa, Darcha, Baracha la, Sarchun, Rang, Debeing, Tanglong, Upshi.

I dropped to Alchi and then back to LEH.

The BRO of India is The largest border reserve force of the world and stands as a short form for brother.

I had to take their help on seven occasions as the howlers were sometimes not allowed in many vehicles. Some took me as a pilgrim kid or as a long lost kid, though I was none. They gave me lifts, gave me food, helped with lodgings sometimes. They often took me as their daughter or sister and some as good platonic friends. I never met them back, yet their faces are so clear in my mind that even after ten years I can simply close my eyes and remember them, the awe and respect I felt for them int have times. Strangely I sometimes can’t recall the face of my colleagues, so well, even bough I met them daily.

Life needs a strange support system, up there men think of only singular survivals, perhaps making life devoid of all the fatty items- jealousy, selfishness, lustful thoughts, lures.

It is the plural which pulls more water creating whirlpools everywhere here.

Singularity works and is tuned in a more animalistic pattern, where rules, unsaid rule the domain and at least is not devoid of rules, real rules, not the fake ones of the pluralistic societies.

The roads slithered and fumes often giving out strong sense of smallness and humility in these known lands.

Now, our main plot begins- the centre of attraction which healed my wounds, taught me telepathy, found a home for the hounds with Choden. They still live in Nubra, one is closing death and the other old enough to even move.

Choden is the girl who had bicycled to Upshi to meet her fiancée who had landed a job with the BRO. As she waded back to Alchi, we became friends and she offered me her bicycle for a ride. I had forgotten all pains and worries, all my walls. As I befriended Choden and the howlers, I understood that I still remembered the simplicity with which friends were to be ordinarily made, relations were to be built, which the cities had forgotten first or left behind first in the race as this race meant a run in the opposite direction to the very nature of man, thus these simple things could be considered as loads.

to be contd…..







Well, to begin with the blog, I must confess in the very beginning that this is no travel blog. This is also not a socio cultural wonderland and nor is it some kind of a blog which is trying to preach life motivating ideas and views. Instead, if I can just define it- I would rather put it this way, “this blog can take you beyond the points in a circular life. “The circular life often includes a culmination of birth, process of birth further followed by death.”

If you notice a normal human life today, in a big or small town or city whether in India or any other part of the world- you would note a few common points and life seems stale in its bearings with much less new.

The story of a life can be painted in just a few mere words-

1) The first struggle begins in the mother who tries to bring the baby into this world.

2) Second struggle is that of the baby.

3) If the baby has caught the rhythm of the world, half a marathon is won by the family, however if not, so is the case, then the struggle is on.

4) This very thought begins to teach the child, few things which would make the world a lesser place to live, few things which act negatively on the world’s face, thus chopping the individual away from the goodness. So, it learns jealousy, selfishness, anger, depression, fear, idleness, stubbornness, lying, cheating and as these processes begin to grip the child firmly, causing a slow asphyxiated death, it revolts in its final hours with whatever remains, killing one or more in return. The poison thus, being recirculated back to Nature.

5) More struggle to survive causing tunnel vision which makes people one dimensional thinking of benefitting only themselves and their Keith’s and kind, worker form of tunnel vision appear when a man loses its ability to think of anyone other than his own, vey own.

6) Finally, death ensues slowly gripping a man by his neck and pulling us away for this life. I am sure, a man while leaving Earth either feels like a rabbit or the pigeon. I have always tried imagining what I would feel like. Well, the answer that came out was anything else but, neither a rabbit nor a pigeon, of course.

A rabbit in its final moments buries its head in the burrow thinking its all safe and a pigeon shuts her eyes, immobilising completely.

“Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places

Where other people see nothing.” Camille Pissarro

Now, this story goes like this, the story where a soul struggles to find an answer. How much can you go to find an answer to a question which is almost killing you. But, also knowing to not run behind everything can save us from being a freaking mad.

Now this girl has got some troubles from the world which includes but not excluding

1) She has a mother recuperating not from breast cancer, but he trauma left behind by a disease. The trauma sadly, doesn’t try to devour a single person but many together, it tries to suck, even the ones who stand at the far end of the circle.

2) Her inner need to understand how things work.

3) An unstable home and family- the one which stood like a pillar once struggles to survive even the weakest whiff of wind.

4) A world ful, of bystanders whose mouths have turned into lava emanating volcanoes. Nothing matters to them except the growing desires in the skewed eyes of the vultures who wait with bated breaths, to lean on the fallen grounds for a fat reward.

5) The general differences existing in the world – be it the man woman, good and bad, theist atheist or rather vague religious differences.

Seeing the beauty hidden in some event which has the seemingly awful power of anhiliating you from the very roots is a work which only a hard core optimist can seek. But, even hard core optimists are humans. How much do you think a human can endure, not more than

1) five sleepless nights.

2) temperatures below 0 and above 50 degree Celsius.

3) a week without food

4) few days without water

5) a soul without a prolonged or intermittent source of love takes only a year to three to wither into a monster.

6) a body takes a year to die when pebbled each day

7) a mind takes only a day or two to die when exposed to unwanted, unnecessary and harmful actions in one heavy dose.

All these are mostly irreversible reactions. What remains might not be a human being, but yes, merely a human- alive, zombie or dead.

Our girls decides to transcend time. She decided she would not die, she decided she would begin nurturing love and all other things needed to be alive, but, for it, there was a need to break out of the circle in which she grew up. The devouring speed be slacked. She needed a telomerase and an endonuclease.

An endonuclease is to nick a circle in which she was moving.

A telomerase to prevent the rapid movement towards entropy.

Travelling was her only option. Travelling to the roots where she began the journey, somewhere closer to it, somewhere in and around that world. Places she went when she was young. Places whose language she knew, which spoke through emptiness and peace.

She knew she was blessed to behold the beauty in all these humble places. She shred other from her life and became one with herself- with the girl who lived beyond age and rigorous rules.

Meera left home for a job and soon found out that a thug consultancy had put her in a BPO. No that, people don’t work there, but that job was not something she was looking at.

So, she ducked her head and worked for 2 months, and a month of training, collected money and ran home, with a shoe string budget, she knew she had a purpose to fulfill.

The train took her to Delhi, but unfortunately Mathura ke paedhe (a form of sweet famous in this place) made her sick. Then with a painful tummy she travelled to Manali where she decided to halt since it was no longer possible to move on. It took five days to Manali, as the tummy healed in the goodness of the budget hotel as curious hotel boys and working ladies peered through dark thoughts trying to look less shocked than they were, their own woman ravelling alone to find solace.

“Now, we Indians do not understand solace. Who cares to seal he winds of heart when the physical wounds are so abundantly strewn across?”

However, they remained merely contended with occasional peeping, glancing, knocking at the door in odd hours either early morning or late in the night post ten to check if I was a thug who would flee with something from the hotel.

Well, on the third and last day of my stay, seeing many foreign women traversing the paths alone, they decided to leave me in peace, considering that I was one of those rebellious girls beginning the process of breaking the norm of home and the world.

i had not felt so good in the last three years- with only me to guide me, fight me, love me, hate me, hide me. I roamed around the woods of Manali on foot, stopping at simple vegan restaurants. The water worked miracles on my aching tummy, the smell of huge pines, the cold did the trick and brought my rouge back on my cheeks and in the last two days I was on my feet again.

to be Contd…….

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<p> If you require any more information or have any questions about our privacy policy, please feel free to contact us by email at </p>
<p> At, the privacy of our visitors is of extreme importance to us. This privacy policy document outlines the types of personal information is received and collected by and how it is used. </p>
<p> <b>Log Files</b><br> Like many other Web sites, makes use of log files. The information inside the log files includes internet protocol ( IP ) addresses, type of browser, Internet Service Provider ( ISP ), date/time stamp, referring/exit pages, and number of clicks to analyze trends, administer the site, track users movement around the site, and gather demographic information. IP addresses, and other such information are not linked to any information that is personally identifiable. </p>
<p> <b>Cookies and Web Beacons</b><br> does use cookies to store information about visitors preferences, record user-specific information on which pages the user access or visit, customize Web page content based on visitors browser type or other information that the visitor sends via their browser. </p>
<b>DoubleClick DART Cookie</b><br>
.:: Google, as a third party vendor, uses cookies to serve ads on<br>
.:: Google’s use of the DART cookie enables it to serve ads to your users based on their visit to and other sites on the Internet. <br>
.:: Users may opt out of the use of the DART cookie by visiting the Google ad and content network privacy policy at the following URL – </p>
<p> Some of our advertising partners may use cookies and web beacons on our site. Our advertising partners include ……. <br> Google Adsense
<br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> <br> </p>
<p> These third-party ad servers or ad networks use technology to the advertisements and links that appear on send directly to your browsers. They automatically receive your IP address when this occurs. Other technologies ( such as cookies, JavaScript, or Web Beacons ) may also be used by the third-party ad networks to measure the effectiveness of their advertisements and / or to personalize the advertising content that you see. </p>
<p> has no access to or control over these cookies that are used by third-party advertisers. </p>
<p> You should consult the respective privacy policies of these third-party ad servers for more detailed information on their practices as well as for instructions about how to opt-out of certain practices.’s privacy policy does not apply to, and we cannot control the activities of, such other advertisers or web sites. </p>
<p> If you wish to disable cookies, you may do so through your individual browser options. More detailed information about cookie management with specific web browsers can be found at the browsers’ respective websites. </p>


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