Tag Archives: Vivek Bhasin



I am deeply deeply grieved to be the bearer of sad news…

A noble soul a gentleman and a scholar, my mentor since 1999 though I can swear by The Almighty that he was omnipresent in me from the day I was born, John Whitmarsh Knight breathed his last, last evening Friday ( 9th Nov 2018) TBC ….. I was informed. I sit here in Delhi and whirl of memories of this amazing gentleman are hovering around me….

He was the most honest, transparent and forthright Gentleman and I was Blessed to have known him … I spent years in Weybridge with him and he taught me the path to becoming a well formed human being…

..whilst in the UK under the auspices of the OCA UK we orchestrated his tenure at the greatest school in the planet : OUR BISHOP COTTON SCHOOL… he worked tirelessly in School and he not only taught English but was a mentor to the boys …

he looked at the world with the widest photo lens and the boys during his years looked up to him to as a Global Citizen who played his part in giving them an all around education …

My Brother Sharat and his wife Rupa ALWAYS hosted him in transit to School and the UK at their place in Gurgaon…

John was steadfast in his views and saw the world in Black and White .. he stayed away from politics and intrigues and falsehood … and his own tuition and guidance was under his Uncle Tubby Whitmarsh Knight… John was School Captain, Rugby Captain at Dulwich College where Ernest Shackleton and PG Wodehouse hailed from …

He strived to instill good noble values in the Boys at BCS…(he never forgave me for his termination at BCS .. due to ill health.. “ VIVEK , I could have lived in Chandigarh and continued to have mentored to Boys if they chose to visit me… as I WISHED to die in India…”)

I am weeping incessantly for John Whitmarsh… he passed away all alone … a confirmed Bachelor in Addlestone / Weybridge…


I am not sure who is there for John and his beautiful belongings ..??

“ John…. Thank You Sir for being a part of my life… I can see you sitting in your lounge surrounded by your 2000 Books … looking at your garden and reciting quotes from Shakespeare, Keats, Shelly and Wordsworth…… someday Sir… I too will meet you .. in that special garden.. so we can continue ….”

Vivek Bhasin

On the WAY, the PATH, on the Camino to Santiago de Compostela

Vivek Bhasin : Extracts from my incredible 350 kilometers walk on the Camino Frances  On the WAY, the PATH, on the Camino to Santiago de Compostela” 20 April 2018-02 May 2018Galicia, an autonomous community in Spain’s northwest, is a verdant region with an Atlantic coastline. The cathedral of regional capital Santiago de Compostela is the reputed burial place of the biblical apostle Saint James the Great, and the destination for those following the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route. The western cliffs of Cape Finisterre were considered by the Romans to be the end of the known world. The Camino de Santiago (Latin: Peregrinatio Compostellana, “Pilgrimage of Compostela”; Galician: O Camiño de Santiago), known in English as the Way of Saint James ( and Jacobsweg in Swedish among other names, is a network of pilgrims’ ways serving pilgrimage to the shrine of the apostle Saint James the Great.   

Being neither wiser nor wittier, 19th April 2018 I departed Stockholm Sweden with some anxiety, apprehension and a little confused from both family and my own inner voice,  flying to Madrid Spain. That same evening I nearly missed the last train to Leon from ChaMartin a main line station in Madrid but thanks to a last minute cancellation I clambered on board with the last ticket and my rucksack.  It was around 2100 hrs when I arrived at Leon and searching, asking in broken espanol (Spanish) I finally located the Pilgrims office where I was officially given Peregrino Credencials, a special passport to trudge, stomp, heave, and surge my body towards Santiago de Compostela.  I was now a pilgrim and the geography of the region called me to start from Leon at 600m above sea level moving through various highs ( 1600m) and lows through Villadangos del Paramo, Astorga, Rabanal del Camino, Molinaseca, Cacabelos, Vega del Valcarce, Fonfria, Samos, Mogarde, Castromaior, Casanova, Arzua, St.Irene and finally Santiago de Compostela. I worked an ETA ( expected time of arrival ) as 3rd May 2018 into Santiago but with the weather gods predicting snow, hail, hard sunshine, hard rain, fog, low clouds, strong winds I urged myself to prepone my arrival a day earlier…02 May 2018.

… 20 April 2018 on the Camino..

There are many ways to lead you to the creator.. some indulge in studies of the divine, others wait to be preached, many sit on the banks of the Ganges whilst some on the Himalayan peaks communicating with powerful in chants and prayers and telepathy; many prostrate along the road full length and the repeat this from toe to hair a million times towards their true belief …

..and there are some like me; a trickling faith, a hundred temples and over three thousand chapel prayers at the Holy Trinity Chapel BCS and still I never got it…

The path from Leon to Astorga and the walk at 0710 this morning… I followed the yellow shell, the pilgrim with his staff bent forward, determined.. I followed the road and only once glanced back at the spires of the Cathedral at Astorga.. I never looked back but yet my psyche was not fully impressed with my faith nor was I sure of the end..

as someone told me.. “ never venture, never win “but is this really a win ?( a flood of memories and then a stillness ..)

When I looked back again.. all I saw was the sky turned red and the sun lifting upwards…

This is no game, no gold medal no pat on my back.. this is a path of true reflection; I follow my own … looking at the ground that changes from asphalt to stone and pebble and grass and back to stone … my shell and I, on the road to Rabanal del Camino…


Every evening I stopped to seek shelter…I lived in Church wings, monasteries, and pilgrim hostels called albergues…some were donativos ( you give a donation of a few euros and they allow you to rest your bruised body….. sometimes 60 of us wheezing, snorting and snoring…this was co-ed, yes we men and them women sleeping next to each other ( okay separate beds!) no adverse thoughts, never…. just a beautiful congregation of souls and that is what mattered….each on a camino….a path ..a way.

I carried my body forward in slow steps and then at the summit appear to stand tall, looking at the horizon, but many weaknesses arise within me… will I be someone else tomorrow and the day after ? Only the Camino will speak to me and finally tell me .. or will it?

On the Camino 23 April..(4th day…)

There was thunder lightning and heavy rain last night at Molinaseca.. (I arrived on 22nd April 2018 after a most difficult walk…up steep gradients, down slippery and dangerously wet slopes with huge slippery rocks, my knees took a pounding, feet swollen and hurting as I limped in to  town) .. but today when I awoke in the dark at 0530 .. I saw 2 French Ladies in a hurry .. packing their “mochilas/rucksacks” with head lamps .. whispering in French …they were in a hurry and their briskness got me to lift my body after a hard sleep ..severe pain.

I hit the road 25 minutes later on the road to Cacabelos…The road was hard , the feet pounding … but the sweet cuckoo encouraged my drag to proper steps ..Alessandro the Brazilian was ahead and so was David from Barcelona …and 8 Km to Poneferrida …

I met many amazing peregrinos on the road to Santiago de Compostela ..Mat from England, Als from Holland, Trevor from Australia, Steve from the US.. ( ex Caterpillar engines been to India often.. he looked like Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam.. )Steig from Copenhagen who stopped every 45 minutes to gulp a pint, a glass of vino tinto and smoke cigarettes, a sprightly young lady from Edinburgh, Vaarik  from Lithuania, Juan Franco from Milan, Melanie from Germany, Lorenzo Grossi from Turino, Benedict  a young handsome dude from Frankfurt; he walked into the Albergue Fonfria at 2200 hrs, stripped down to his boxers, took a shower, spent another 2 hrs in meditation…by 0300 he was gone into the fog. I met Tina and Alexandra from Riga, Jessica from Germany too; I even met Senor Picasso, Ms. Galicia future Ms. Spain for Miss Universe, a mature and super intelligent ex.Ms.Greece who represented her country in Rio 20 years ago, young and bubbly Isabela a Danish flicka on her gap year walking fast and furiously and fabulously. I met  beautiful and intelligent Lady Regine at Vega de Valcarce, we had crossed paths earlier as I was always sitting somewhere panting out of breath as she passed me…but that evening she was in the same restaurant having a pilgrims meal and we talked about life and the camino for many many hours…Regine had come to the end of her camino and was breaking away at O’Cebriero the next morning; we lost each other on the path the next morning but met at the point outside the Church of O’Cebriero…she was someone very special on the camino…And Don O’Sullivan a fantastic person, a fantastically genuine person. Thanks Dan! Namaskar.

And I also met this guy ……I met “myself” and we talked of many things on the camino… materialistic and spiritual…I argued and once shouting at myself I ran short of breath; the body pleaded I needed to rest and so I did on a huge rock to calm myself …….and yes I did ..

As I walked through vineyards and even encountered a one-eyed cat… my feet aching … my body sweating…I still kept asking myself.. why but why..? Even Alessandro asked me what is my Camino ..to be truthful I still don’t know, except I wanted my body to hurt at all points and see it heal when I lay down at night to brace another day on this amazing Camino ..

Days went by….at the point of crossing into Galicia I was walking on the ridge of the mountain with the sun rising on my back; the camino walks westward. Ahead the sky was white with low clouds; the chilly blast sensed approaching rain, yet the Gods did not ordain this; instead the clouds stooped low and enshrouded me , the iciness  caressing my face and neck like freezing smooth velvet.

….Then I walked out of the cotton into bright sunshine and entered Galicia and amongst the richness of its natural beauty, encountering quaint villages, cows with bells, beautiful noble horses, sheep, pigs, dogs, cats and chickens ( and even 2 hissing snakes) I trampled over fallen pine cones, hard sharp stones, crossed streams, stepped on cow manure and mud and slush…. up the hills and down into vales, walking in country lanes, past vineyards, along the main autopistas ( the main highways)  , crossing fields and cutting through hedges, an entire forest blackened due to forest fires in some past hot summer.. and getting lost for hours as I could not find the yellow arrow, the stone with the yellow shell…….I felt the reverberations and the power of the Camino…on which for thousands of years pilgrims had walked the same way…plodding westward to the Cathedral…..   

The Arrival

..and finally on 02 May 2018 I entered the outer limits of Santiago de Compostela….the excruciating pain in my legs, my knee caps appeared to have drifted and I was limping. But I saw the twin spires in the distance and I knew my time was nigh. At 1415 hrs, walking in slow steps and panting I walked through the tunnel where a bagpiper played his tune….i closed my eyes and saw the world spinning by….and suddenly I was there at the massive courtyard and the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela…

Dropping to my knees…my eyes closed..the tears ran freely as I heard a voice…”Bienvenido Peregrino”..Welcome Pilgrim…!

( At mass that evening the priest announced…among the many nationalities of pilgrims that arrived today…” one pilgrim arrived from India and Sweden”…that for me for said enough).

(The local newspaper El Correo Gallego of Santiago de Compostela, tracked me asleep at the Seminario de Menor and flooded me with questions.  Why a 62 year old Indian Sea Captain having visited 120 countries wanted to walk the Camino…? Responding…The Camino was a path my wife and I had read about, I dreamt about and wished to be a part of my life; the thought of walking that difficult path was frightening. Many a pilgrim has broken a leg, smashing faces and splitting open knees; many young, fit and able start with great gusto and get spent within a few days, returning home. I walked the Camino with great conviction in my mind and soul and a great power walked with me and protected me. I could feel it on the journey.. The photograph and the write-up on Captain Vivek Bhasin , Old Cottonian was viewed by one and many on 4th May 2018.

The Mariner Vivek Bhasin having lived an intensive life through 120 countries finds this path-the way on an incredible walk ( 350 km) to Santiago de Compostela.

And a few hours later as I walked within the old city I met Gandhi! 

Gandhi handed me a note…” there is more to life than increasing its speed……..”

At Seminario de Menor Santiago de Compostela (5th May 2018: The Departure)

… I got up this morning at 0400 hrs exhausted … the exhaustion was not because of 18 days on the road since Sweden nor due to the completion of the 350 Km walk on Camino Frances and arriving at Santiago de Campostela ( actually in a fairly good physical state.). nor was it due to a flood of memories ( some were so specific that one even lasted an entire 10 minutes … as I unreeled the camera in my mind departing Monasterio Samos and the immediate start of a sharp gradient a steep hard uphill track towards Sarria… it was cold and wet and dark as I pushed upwards …every step had to be secure, no error as the stones were loose , wet and slippery and I could have fallen on my face and all my teeth shattered !..the forest was silent …except for my rapid breath and the fog that formed every time I exhaled ; the effort to reach the top took 105 excruciating minutes; my feet pounding and my body lurching forward, my eyes wide open and my soul..searching. Yes 10 minutes of concentration ignited the inner camera as I recollected that stage of the Camino…

No no.. my exhaustion came on as I stopped the camera in my mind …the exhausted system of mine increased when I left the Seminario Menor, the world of the Camino I was leaving, and returning to the hard road of the world I was going back to…. an immense hollow feeling created this tiredness..I felt concerned on how would the days ahead unfold… was I to immediately transform to the normality of sorts? … as the many sunsets would create flashes of blue on the horizon with calmer stillness so would the ache in my legs and my swollen feet subside, and …

I would re-emerge as another pedestrian in the maddening crowds of the world but with the security and sanctity of always keeping the Camino, the path , the way to Santiago de Campostela within me… and I will smile.

Conclusion ( Sweden 8th May 2018)

I was away from the  pace of today’s electronic and fast moving world where pressures are there to perform beyond your maximum heat beat.. stress is “in” …where people compete on how many million “ FRIENDS… (Friends??!)“ you have on face book but not a single genuine friend … the mobile is a bigger addiction than marijuana and cocaine … and you either survive after multiple heart attacks to increase your bottom line in the Corporate world or commit some other drastic act…

The Camino brings you back to great sensibility ….and you speak .. the Camino answers. away from the artificial jokes, scandals and corruption of the world..

I at least realised how Beautiful life is… on that Beautiful sometimes treacherous route..

I thank my immediate family ( Ann-Sofie , Dhani , Radhika, Daniel, Olivia, Jiv) my parents, my 3 Mums, my grandmother, my blood brother Sharat..and my  cousins … all of you…and some very special people I met in the 120 countries and on the Camino..

I am ferociously grateful to my Alma mater Bishop Cotton School Simla ( I wore the BCS Hat every evening on the Camino)…to all those who’ve gone before and those who’ve yet to come …. I learnt to convert happiness from loneliness, work and play under Team Lefroy and Team BCS…and go out to face the world, a world … at many stages, of scorn, rage, envy but with my solid foundation from all of the above mentioned … I sieved away those who created negative vibrations in me; you don’t need 16 Million Facebook friends in E-Space… you need a handful whom you can speak to, touch feel and love…


I donated a feather pillow at Seminario de Menor, Santiago de Compostela (SdeC)

…..May many  pilgrims on the ultimate arrival at SdeC get an opportunity to lay their heads down on the pillow sinking into the luxurious richness of feathers .. turning on their sides the pillow adjusts to accommodate their necks … closing their eyes may they open their inner vision to the path… the way… the Camino to Santiago de Compostela.. that an Indian -Swedish Sea Captain, a son of Bishop Cotton School… too walked in another world, their world… a more beautiful world…. that stays calling.. calling him to come back…..

Vivek Bhasin

Lefroy 1961-1970

(walked an average of 27 km every day for 13 days..)


Additional photographs…and additional Thanks….
[all pictures can be clicked for a larger view]

I must expressively Thank the following.. without whom I would have surely failed


  • BCS: School Cap
  • H&M (Label of Graded Goods):check shirt/maroon pants/grey jogging pants
  • Mizuno : Walking water proof shoes
  • No Name: Bath Slippers
  • Dobber : All weather jacket
  • Wenger: Rucksack
  • Happy Socks: Socks
  • El Corte Ingles:Belt
  • Björn Borg : Boxers
  • Jockey : undervest
  • Levi’s: Sweatshirt
  • Timex: Wrist watch with luminous dial so I could rise at 0500
  • Nano-b: Toothbrush
  • Folk:Toothpaste
  • Negro Jabon: Soap
  • Interprox : Inter dental brush
  • Profimed : Dental Floss
  • XXL: Cotton sleeping case
  • XXL: Trekking Towel
  • Spanish Vaseline
  • Mum’s Mustard Oil ( Calcutta)
  • Costa Rica : Bandana
  • Dhani : Rain Sheet
  • Dhani: Cotton /Linen stole
  • Trigger: Walking Sticks
  • Camino: Weather Hat
  • Olivia’s woollen gloves
  • Ray Ban: Specs/Shades
  • Samahan: Herbal powder
  • Peder Persson: Hunter’s survival bag
  • .. my hair brush..


2017 Christmas letter

A 2017 Christmas Letter..

Confession :I took away some grapes from a vineyard in Chile…

“School’s out for the Summer .. “
pelted Rock Legend Alice Cooper with a Boa Constrictor around his neck. The dude was the son of a clergy man and his real name was a something- something Furnier; the band in which he kicked ass as vocalist was called A-C.

Cooper progressed from Badass Shock-Rock God to the quieter side of life where he excelled and improved his handicap at Golf..( he hit that ball straight as a flaming arrow renaming himself “Golf Monster”).

When I was a young lad at Bishop Cotton School, the seniors had formed a pop band called “The Cat” and played some really cool numbers with James Gideon, Benjamin Gilani and a few other cool cats ! I remember how James used to twist across the stage in Irwin Hall wearing skin tight trousers ( today called slim and tight fit ) and real sharp pointy shoes …
as juniors I remember the song ..
“If you missed the train I’m on
You will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow
.. a hundred miles….”

I went to School in the 1960’s, at that time English Pop and American Rock were slowly entering our musical blood streams. Aku Pawa had a Red Vinyl of The Beatles Abbey Road..and we all used to crowd around the music system in the Common Room dreaming of growing our locks like John, Paul,George and Ringo..yes only dreaming.

2017 ends it’s last days here in Sweden with snow, blue skies and sharp sunshine for those brief minutes of the day.. barely four hours of daylight. Tropical tourists head further north to a place call Jukkasjärvi; book in at the Ice Hotel ( yes the creation melts away in the summer) they look up at the glorious heavens to see the Northern Lights.. a sweep of bright lights in orange reds pinks blue and greens..

Well from the first flat in School you may not see those northern lights but you do see the Belt of Orion, The Great Bear and the Pole star. Simla is crisp at this time of the year.. if you do venture in through the gates, the emptiness of School with its silence is pure deafening.

As they’ve all gone home..

Back here in Sweden it’s “Julafton”, Christmas Eve that is celebrated. This year the grandchildren will clasp my hand and we shall all dance around the Christmas Tree…

The fare…Christmas Ham, Pickled Herring, Jonsson’s Temptation, Smoked Salmon, Saffron buns with RAISINS..Ris-a-la-malta and Marabou chocolates…then a toast for peace in the world..
for peace in our lives..
for peace in our Beautiful School. ..
For peace to all Cottonians !

At a wine tasting on a vineyard in Chile two years ago , very nonchalantly I stuffed a few dark red and purple grapes in my Levi’s; then in the evening discarded the pair in a corner of my closet. For some strange reason the other day I had the urge to don that pair again… two years later. I slipped my hand inside the pocket and felt something soft like rubber .. I pulled out six little pieces of …..Grapes from Los Andes Chile; dried and “raisined”!! Tasting sweet with the right twang of alcohol, I knew I had some winners here… placing them on the saffron buns as pure beautiful raisins; part of the Christmas fare…

For Alice Cooper “ School’s Out for the Summer”..
For us Cottonians “ School’s Out
for the winter “

A Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year Ladies and Gentlemen.


Vivek Bhasin
Lefroy 1961-1970
A day before Julafton-Christmas Eve at
Karlstad, Sweden

Vivek Bhasin writes again “Dear Headmaster Sir”

Good Evening to you.

It’s late at night and I shiver with excitement ( the crispness of November adds a zest of life running through my body..)sitting on my bed in the Sixth Form cubicle writing to you..

It’s surely is the last day of the year or sooner than later it is.. I stare out at the glow of the First Flat and through the Tara Devi gap I see lights twinkling…

It’s quiet in the dorms as lights out happened many hours ago; Lefroy House Master completed his rounds seeing us all tucked in. I should be in cloud cuckoo land but the radium in my watch casts a green glow under the quilt and I struggle to sit up and grab pen and paper..

Another nine months went rolling by Sir. I am now an inch taller and all my gym shoes are holed. My tie is hanging on the peg; last untied was never. The loop slips past my head and I tighten it; that’s at least 60 seconds of effort saved for 60 seconds of extra sleep..

I think back hard on the days that went; yes coming full circle from winter kit past summer kit to winter kit again. It’s time to go down to the plains and the maddening crowds; the trains and buses and lanes and by lanes. Last Saturday’s movie at Irwin Hall was aptly named “ Home from the Hills”… I must confess Sir, with exams all over, my steel trunk packed locked and sealed; loaded on the truck must be halfway to Calcutta ! …Yes Sir I must admit our gang was out about town and we saw two movies; one at Regal the Two to Five Dr Zhivago ( at interval the hall played The Stones Jumpin’ Jack Flash); we then ran back to School for Supper and caught the movie in the Irwin Hall; we panted past Sudden Death and screamed through the Mall to see the Ten to One with a new phenomenon called Rajesh Khanna in “ Aradhana”… later we crept back via Knollswood on the short cut so sure footed back to School. Three films later a bloody splitting headache I must confess to.

I must confess again for the record I was on your walnut tree; no walnuts but orange coloured hands and my knees bruised.

My Grandma returned to Delhi after bathing and adorning new clothes to the Gods at Kali Bari, Prospect Hill and Jakoo… she was my local Guardian since I was five in Linlithgow Sir; you granted me “ sleeping out” once a month so I could trundle up to see her… my Father had an account set up for me at Gainda Mull… I could buy goodies like fruit gums, fruitella and condensed milk for five rupees at every town leave and sign for the good stuff … that’s where I learnt how to sign my name with great flourish..

On other weekends my Grandma came down to see me; we we were seen picnicking at Council Rock; I was barely five. When she left in October the last four weeks were rather lonely but Jai Singh the local baker at J.B. Mangaram always met me at the school gate with a freshly baked muffin! He truly was a great saviour those last four weeks Sir..

The twinkling lights at the gap suddenly fade and are gone.. it’s School Party to Calcutta.. it’s always been the Kalka-Howrah Mail Sir..

But a certain yearning becomes an ache .. a confused ache. I strain to understand what my body is saying… on one end it’s the pull towards my parents in Calcutta … after nine months.

There is a certain steadfastness, a magnet pull beneath the steel bed, the voices of all the guys on the first flat, the Irwin Hall and in unison in the Holy Trinity Chapel of ours…

It’s the next day Sir; a new day.

It’s time to leave with my bedding roll and attaché case Sir.

I am writing to let you know, I am leaving…A final Goodbye Sir.

But I left a part of my soul, my strength ..in Bishop Cotton School.

Vivek Bhasin
Lefroy House
Class of 1970

The Great Himalaya and Our Bishop Cotton School

The Great Himalaya

No other range can match the lofty grandeur, the immense heights and the diversity in flora and fauna from the foothills to Kanchenjunga , to Mount Kailash to Mount Everest to

Bishop Cotton School….. which is at a mere 2300 metres or so but its perch, its architectural and geographical position were set to get maximum strength from the Sun God, pay obeisance when he sets across the Tara Devi Gap and a million stars appearing and the Moon illuminating the school, setting the 2nd and 3rd flats on a silver blaze. Besides Sports and Academics emphasis was on the pure Himalayan air, the smells of pine that was tonic to our growing years.

As a Third Former I used to creep across to the benches and strain my eyes and ears towards the gap wanting to know if my Mum and Pa thought of me every moment the way I did about them.Far away in Calcutta..

Having sailed the seas and touched every continent, driven across the Andes, The Rockies and the Alps my final return was always the Great Himalaya. Here New Monasteries, Temples, Pagodas, Mosques and Churches have come up yet I know our School Chapel stays unmatched in beauty and splendour. Being a Saprano in the Choir I had Adams, Dehlvi, Singhs, Bhasins , Tippakorn and Pandit all singing in unison to the hymns and psalms everyday.

Our School touched our lives and has stood entrenched in the soul of the mighty mountain range. It is there waiting with open arms for every Cottonian to come back today tomorrow or whenever..

We Cottonians are Blessed to have merged our soul with the Great Himalaya.

Vivek Bhasin

Lefroy 1961-1970