A Day in the City of Pearls.

As the title states, all I had for this particular trip was a single day. Since there were family matters to attend this summer, it was next to impossible to take a long holiday earlier, hence this sudden, super quick visit to the city built by the Nizams – Hyderabad! Other than mentioning the Nizam w.r.t a few conflicts and the merger of Hyderabad into the Indian Union, nothing has been said about the Nizams in our history texts at school….so these few hours in their city proved to be an enlightening.

Hyderabad, also known as ‘the city of pearls’ is the capital of Telangana, a southern state in India. Established in 1591 by Muhammad Quli Qutb Shah, Hyderabad is situated on a hilly terrain around artificial lakes. This historic city remained under the Qutb Shahi rule until it was captured by the Mughals sometime around 1687. In 1721, Mughal viceroy Asif Jah I declared his sovereignty and created his own dynasty known as the Nizams of Hyderabad. Hyderabad remained a princely state all through the British rule in India and was incorporated into the Indian Union only in 1948.  

The relics of the Qutb Shahi and the Nizam Shahi rule are today visible all across Hyderabad….in their monuments, their culture and their distinctive cuisine.

 

Waiting for a cab outside the airport

Armed with a little backpack crammed with just the essentials, I began my mini-vacation with an early morning flight from Mumbai to Hyderabad that got me into the historic city around 8.30am. Hailing a cab from there I headed directly to the Birla Temple, a Hindu temple built on a 280ft high hillock.

Entry to the famous Birla Temple

Constructed with 2000 tons of pure white marble, this temple dedicated mainly to Lord Venkataswara is open to members of all faiths. Having very little time in the city, I decided to skip the climb to the main temple and walked towards Hussain Sagar Lake in search of the Telangana Tourism Office. At this time of the year, Hyderabad is extremely hot and the sun shines down with all its might. I guess I was lucky since from the moment I landed until the time I left the city, the cruel sun remained imprisoned by dark rain clouds and the weather was very pleasant.

At the Tourism office, I paid Rs.200 and booked myself a seat on the Hop-On Hop-Off tour bus. Now, for someone running on limited time, getting on to one of these busses is a good idea.

The Telangana Tourism Office and the Hop-on Hop-Off bus

Public transport is not something I would recommend as the local busses are crowded and auto-rickshaws can burn a hole in your wallet. Pre-paid cabs are very convenient but still expensive. The Tourism Department run Hop-on Hop-Off service is relatively cheaper and very comfortable. It takes you through the city to all the important tourist attractions giving you ample time to explore the place.

The bus driver, Mr. Madhukar, was friendly and quick to supply needed information. Having ensured that all his passengers were seated, he proceeded towards the driver’s seat and we were off.

Nizam’s Museum à Charminar à Chowmohalla à Salar Jung Museum à Golconda Fort

Driving through narrow by-lanes and crowded market streets, we got to our first destination on the itinerary, the HEH Nizam’s Museum, or, as it commonly known, the Puraani Haveli. This old Haveli is U shaped with a residential building in the center and two long wings running parallel to each other on either side.  The Puraani Haveli holds a special place in the history of Hyderabad as it was one of the earlier residences of the Asaf Jahs, the last ruling dynasty in Hyderabad.

The wing housing the Nizam's Museum

The second Nizam, Mir Nizam Ali Khan, had obtained this plot to build a palace for his son Sikander Jah. When he became the third Nizam in 1803, he moved to the more sprawling Chowmohalla Palace and, for a long while, the Haveli was deserted earning it the name Puraani Khadeem or old palace.

The Palace gained importance once again when the fifth Nizam, Afzal-ud-Dawlah was born there. The sixth Nizam, Mir Mahbub Ali Khan chose to make the Palace his home thus bringing it back to life.

Today, the Palace wears a rather worn look but is still quite charming to look at. The Nizam’s Palace was started in one of the wings in keeping with the wishes of the seventh Nizam, HEH Osman Ali Khan, Asaf Jah VII. The museum was opened to the public on 18 February, 2000 and the entry fee, for Indian tourists, is Rs 80 for adults and Rs.15 for children. Photography inside the Museum (on camera or phone) is permitted at an extra charge of Rs.150. The guards are quite alert so those attempting to click pictures on the sly are sure to be in for quite a loud and embarrassing reprimand. (Since I did not purchase a camera ticket I could not click any pictures inside the museum. Those displayed here, if any, are ones I managed to get off the internet)

The famous wooden wardrobe. (pic credit: Google images)

The first room houses all the gifts presented to HEH the Nizam during the silver jubilee functions of the seventh Nizam. As I entered, the first item displayed was recorded as having been gifted to the Nizam on February 20 (my birth date!).…at that very moment I found myself regretting the absence of a camera ticket. The regret increased when I saw all the wonderful items on display all around me. All around the hall are glass cases and cabinets displaying various articles in silver and gold….huge models of famous palaces of Hyderabad, jewel encrusted cigarette cases and mirrors, swords, jewelry boxes and perfume jars studded with pearls and, at the far end, a canopied throne of wood and gold.

The adjoining room, a much smaller one, showcases the achievements and progress of the city of Hyderabad. I wasn’t much interested by this, so headed to the next room. 

This really beautiful hall houses the famous 176ft long wooden walk-in wardrobe of the Nizam. The entire hall from floor to ceiling is lined with cabinets made of Burma Teak. It is built on two levels; the lower level was for storing garments, while the upper level was meant for shoes. It is said that the Nizam never repeated his outfit. Having worn them once, they were promptly given away, thus leaving none for public display in the museum.

Our next stop was the most famous landmark of Hyderabad, the Charminar. Constructed right in the middle of a busy street, this monument is one that you simply cannot miss. Made of granite, marble, limestone and mortar, standing 66 ft wide and 184 ft high, the Charminar is said to have been constructed in 1591 to commemorate the eradication of plague. It is built at the intersection of the historical trade route that connects Golconda with Machilipatnam. The Old City of Hyderabad was designed around the Charminar. 

The Charminar, as seen from the rear window of our bus

The monument derives its name from the four beautiful minars connected by grand arches that open into four most active, ancestral market streets. There is an actual mosque on the top-most level of the Charminar. IT also has 45 covered spaces for prayer with an open space in the middle to accommodate more people for the Friday prayer.

Tourists are permitted only on the first level. I got into the fast moving queue and purchased a ticket for just Rs.15. The monument is absolutely beautiful to look at even though the walls are thickly marred with ugly graffiti. At the center of the base, is a fountain, or vazu, for ablution before offering prayer at the Charminar mosque. I stood awhile beside the fountain and looked up at the ceiling while tourists walking along the gallery on the first level looked down at me.

  

There are a total of 149 winding steps leading to the very top of the Charminar. It’s a good thing we didn’t have to go higher than the first level (which is also quite high anyway), climbing the stairs was tricky business for me. The stairway winds up on the inside of the minar. Round and round it goes, with each step no less than a foot and a half in height. Progress is rather slow as the dim lighting and narrow space makes it difficult to move more than one step at a time. Even in the dim light I could see the graffiti scratched into the walls. There wasn’t an inch of wall space left bare. I was super careful to ensure that I didn’t rub shoulders with the sides of the minar as betel nut (paan) stains created ugly patterns on the walls and corners. We cannot deny that there is a lack of respect and pride for heritage monuments in India, but one would think better care would have been taken considering the Charminar is also a mosque.

View of Charminar Street and Mecca Masjid from atop the Charminar

But do not let the paan stained corners or the graffiti put you off. Once you get to the top, you’ll be very glad you visited the Charminar. The view is splendid. To me it seemed like I was looking down at an old-time bazaar, something that might have popped out of an Arabian Nights tale. Charminar Road was buzzing with activity….local restaurants, stores selling beautiful fabrics, costume jewelry, sweets…..hawkers with their cartloads of glittering hairclips, bangles and shoes spilled out onto the streets even while scooters and rickshaws wound their way through the massive, buzzing throng of people in the bazaar. You also get a good view of the grand Makkah Masjid that stands a short distance away from the Charminar. It’s said that soil from the holy land of Mecca was used to fashion the bricks that make up the central arch of this mosque, hence its name. 

Walking through Laad Bazaar

Standing atop the Charminar, looking down at the busy streets of the Old City of Hyderabad, I felt light and quite happy. It’s an experience one mustn’t miss and I’m truly glad I visited the Charminar.

Once back on the ground, I walked through the historic Laad Bazaar (known for bangles of various types, especially those made of laad or lacquer) and made my way to another residence of the Nizams…the Chowmohalla Palace.

Currently the property of Barkat Ali Khan Mukarram Jah, heir of the Nizams, the Chowmohalla was the official residence of the Nizams of Hyderabad while they ruled their state. Although construction began in 1750, it was completed only sometime between 1857 and 1859 during the rule of Afzal ad-Dawlah, Asaf Jah V. It is said that the sprawling palace originally covered 45 acres, but today, only 12 acres remain. The Chowmohalla complex comprises of two courtyards, beautifully sculpted gardens, fountains and four palaces. Entry costs just Rs.50 and an additional Rs.50 for a camera pass.  

Floor plan of the Chowmohalla. (pic credits: Google images)

No sooner had I entered the huge gateway than I was bowled over by the splendor and beauty of the place. Why, I wondered, were we never taught about the lives and architectural contributions of the Nizams?

The Chowmohalla is well-maintained…not a scrap of garbage insight….well painted walls devoid of graffiti…and those four grand palaces with their wonderfully, exotic names like Tahniyat Mahal, Aftab Mahal, Mahtab Mahal & Afzal Mahal! Wow!

 

The main durbar looks splendid with 19 spectacular chandeliers of Belgian Crystal hanging from the ceiling.

On the first floor, one can view the many exhibits of crockery, weapons, fabrics and original photographs. The Aftab Mahal had a small but pretty display that showcases the dressing styles of the women of the Nizam’s household. 

I could have easily spent all day admiring the treasures of the Chowmohalla Palace, but it was nearing 2 pm, time to head back to the bus.

Next stop - the Salar Jung Museum…but first, some lunch. Deciding to skip the Food Court inside the museum, I walked around and entered a rather shabby looking, but fairly clean eatery that comprised of a few plastic tables and chairs. The manager, a senior gentleman, greeted me with a smile and took my order for whatever lunch was on their menu for the day.  

My Lunch

Lunch comprised of a thali of rice, chapatti, dal, vegetable curry, dry veg preparation, pickle and chips. A small bowl of yogurt was placed at the side and large containers with more of the dal, vegetable and curry were placed in front of me….in case I felt the need of a second helping, at no extra charge. So, I had a tasty, simple, filling meal for just Rs.70 and then, thanking the manager, I walked back to the museum

 

The Salar Jung Museum

 (Entry ticket, Rs.20 and camera pass, Rs. 50) The Salar Jung is one of the three national museums of India and one of the largest museums in the world. It is home to the largest one-man collection of antiques in the world, that of Nawab Mir Yusuf Ali Khan Salar Jung III, prime minister to the seventh Nizam of Hyderabad. The museum is built in a semi-circular shape with close to 38 galleries spread across two floors.

Ivory chairs siad to have belonged to Tipu Sultan of Mysore 

Veiled Rebecca

 

The Musical Clock

Crowd waiting for the clock to chime

Of all the exhibits, what I liked best was the Jade room, the room of Walking Sticks and the Veiled Rebecca. What is most popular, however, is the Musical Clock that Salar Jung purchased from Cook & Kelvy of England. Every hour, crowds gather in the inner courtyard where the clock is displayed and await the sight of a wee timekeeper who appears through a little door in the upper deck of the clock and strikes a gong as many times as the hours of the day. It’s truly amusing to see the excitement building as the hour approaches, and when the clock strikes the hour, you can hear the spectators going ‘Aaahhhh’ and ‘Ooohhh’ in time to the sound of the gong. It’s super cute!

Seeing that I was bound to spend more time at the Museum, I called Madhukar, the bus driver, and informed him that I would be staying back and they could move on without me. In any case, the next stop was going to be the Golconda Fort. Getting there takes close to an hour and climbing to the top and exploring the fort at leisure require almost an entire day. I’ll save that for my next trip to Hyderabad.

For now, I hung around the Salar Jung for about another hour and then booked a cab to the historic Moazzam Jah Market.  Constructed in 1935 during the reign of the last Nizam, Mir Osman Ali Khan, it was named after his second son Moazzam Jah.

Today it houses many shops and small businesses, including a whole line of old ice-cream shops. Having been advised to visit Famous Ice-Creams, I walked up to the shop and ordered a chickoo ice-cream. Sitting with my ice-cream at one of the many tables placed around the shop, I took the time to look around. Like most of Hyderabad, Moazzam Jah is also quite filthy. There’s overflowing garbage bins and drains at almost regular intervals, the traffic is crazy and loud and it seems worse because Moazzam Jai Market is located at the intersection of a busy crossroad. But, like it is all over Hyderabad, the people are helpful, polite and nice. And my ice-cream was also nice…smooth, creamy and every bit worth the Rs.30 I paid for two scoops.

 

Famous Ice-cream

Having enjoyed my ice-cream, I crossed the street over to Karachi Bakery, famous for its fruit biscuits. I’d had them once, a long while ago and I still remember the sweet, buttery, fruity flavour of those melt-in-your-mouth cookies. I made my purchase, a box of the fruit biscuits and another of the assorted variety. Headed a few shops ahead and decided to try something that’s famous in Hyderabadi cuisine – the haleem. Everyone keeps speaking of it, all the restaurants are advertising haleem and I even spotted quite a few people digging away into a bowl full of the steaming dish. I decided to try some. I didn’t like it. I guess it’s an acquired taste, but at that moment, I couldn’t swallow more than a few spoonfuls of the soft, super greasy preparation. Washing out the taste with a glass of cool water I called for a cab to take me to the airport.

Meanwhile, the crazy traffic outside had grown crazier. The cab, although it was just five minutes away, took thirty five minutes to get to where I was waiting with my backpack and my boxes of biscuits. Once at the airport, I immediately purchased a bottle of water and proceeded to drink all of it to make up for not drinking water almost all day. You see, the toilets in most places here are very poorly maintained. They’re small, not very clean and the floor is almost always flooded with water. At least, I’m hoping it was just water. Even at the Salar Jung Museum it was the same story. Worse still, there are no lights in some of the toilets and many of the doors are cracked and do not shut. I entered one of the washrooms only to see that while two of the toilets were shut tight, the third was occupied by a woman who was so dedicated to doing whatever she was doing in there that she didn’t even bother to shut the door. Disgusted, I turned around and walked out.

In spite of the poor condition of toilets and the dirty, crowded streets, I found Hyderabad to be quite charming. After all, every place has its pros and cons. Hyderabad, especially the Old City of Hyderabad, is bustling with activity and full of colour and fragrance. There are mosques and dargahs at every corner and so many shops selling pearls and perfumes. The historic buildings and palaces standing holding their ground in the midst of all the hustle-and-bustle…they speak of the wealth and grandiosity of the Nizams and the Hyderabad that once was.

Most certainly, a city to be experienced again.

Pics by Misha. (all except where mentioned)

Seven Trek to Ahupe Ghat

Date:  August 14, 2016

Route: Dadar -- Kalyan -- Khopivali -- Ahupe Ghat  

This Independence weekend saw an exodus of city-dwellers heading for the hills. Mahabaleshwar…Mhateran…Lonavala….every booking site I checked had only one thing to say – SOLD OUT! SOLD OUT! SOLD OUT! That being the case, there was no question of us putting up our feet and sleeping in a hammock at some hill-station. So, we put our feet to better use….we decided to spend the eve of Independence on a one-day trek. Then began a search for an interesting location….one that none of us had ever attempted. Reading our conversation on What’sApp one would bring to mind the ‘three bears’:

“This location seems too easy…”

“This place is too far…”

“This one is perfect!”

The destination we finally agreed upon was ‘Ahupe Ghat’, located at a height of 3855 ft somewhere in the Murbad region of Maharashtra.

The Seven Amigos

In a matter of two days we put together a small group of seven amigos five of whom, in various stages of sleep and excitement, met at Dadar Station to board the 5.18 local to Kalyan where we were met by our sixth amigo, Viren. The last member of our group, Royston, found it most difficult to wake-up on time and informed us that he was running a little late. Not wanting to lose time, the rest of us decided to wait for him at Deepak Restaurant, a tiny eatery just outside the station, to the West. But Royston wasn’t the only one we were waiting for. Meeting us at Kalyan Station was a Mr. Sandeep (09821874568) whose services we had employed for the day. We thought that getting to the base village slightly squashed in an Ertiga would surely be better than rattling along in an ST bus. We thought right.

Catching up on lost sleep

Our group.....minus one who was sitting in front

Even though many sites spoke of a two hour ride to the base village of Khopivali, we got there in 45 minutes less than that. That was all thanks to nearly deserted streets, and smooth roads. If we ignore the fact that we were packed in like sardines (almost), I’d say the ride was a very comfortable one, winding across bubbling rivers and lush green fields of rice. Suddenly, in the fast reducing distance we saw mountains looming before us – massive stone giants with their head in the clouds. “Is that where we’re going?” The sight was unbelievable! 

Look where we're going!

Khopivali, the base village, is a fairly quiet and small little place with the houses placed quite close together. That’s probably a reflection of the fact that villages are a close-knit community.

No sooner did we ask around for a guide to lead us up to Ahupe Ghat, than we met Prabhakar (09221418423), a simple farmer who earns a living leading people up and down the mountain slopes. Very kindly and in the true spirit of Indian hospitality, he welcomed us into his home so Anthony and Neil could change into more comfortable clothes before we began our ascent.

We walked through the tiny village and waded across a loudly chattering stream and then stood a while gazing up at what we were out to climb. “Hum inme se kaunsi pahad par chad rahe hai? (Which of these mountains are we climbing?)”, said I. “Wo wali (that one),” said our guide, indicating almost all mountain peaks in one sweep of his forefinger.  

And so, around 10 am (a few minutes later than planned) we began our climb, seven excited souls led by a man who tripped up the mountain like a mountain goat. Although there aren’t any steps, there is a clear, albeit narrow path that zigzags all the way up the mountain. For the first couple of minutes we trudged through murky fields after which it was rocks and boulders all the way. It is advisable to stay close, for although you will eventually reach the top if you stay on the path, it is quite easy to lose sight of one another because of the dense foliage all around. Another word of advice; do ensure that your backpacks are lightly packed.  It does get quite tiring an hour into the trek and a heavy bag will only slow you down or break your back.

Even though most of us had carried just a few essentials, we still had to stop now and then to catch our breaths. The thing with climbing up to Ahupe Ghat is that there is no plateau mid-way where one can rest a-while. We only paused at the occasional stream / waterfall to splash some cool water on our flushed faces. It was at such times that we took in the view of the valley far below. The higher we climbed, the more breathtaking the view became.  

A moment of respite

Anthony enjoying the view

 The nature lovers of our group were quite thrilled with the scenic beauty of the place. En route to the top we spotted a variety of crabs, lizards, rocks, leaves and flowers. Clusters of sparkling white mushroom dotted the path at many places. At one spot, almost hidden behind the rock we spotted a most unusual ant hill. It wasn’t like any we had seen before. This one looked like a great, big rose made of clay. 

Another thing that made the climb a pleasure was the absence of any litter. There was absolutely no sign of any trash that callous city-dwellers usually toss around. At a few places we’d previously visited, there were paper-plates, tetra packs and crushed newspaper to be found at regular intervals. That’s such a shame! One of the reasons a trek is enjoyable is that it gives us a chance to leave the madness of the city behind us and enjoy the world as God meant it to be – clean, peaceful and rejuvenating! I have come across trekkers who actually pick up any litter that they find along the way…..truly a laudable act!

We did spy what looked like Buddhist caves cut into the side of the neighboring mountains and came across a few water cisterns and trenches said to have been used by Chattrapati Shivaji’s warriors who practiced guerilla warfare.

There were many moments when we looked up and thought we couldn’t move another step. Our guide would then holler and ask us to look down and keep climbing one-rock-at-a-time. So, still determined to reach the summit, we kept moving forward, sometimes on all fours. For every time we asked Prabhakar, “Aur kitni der lagegi? (How much longer will this take?)”, he had one standard answer, “5 minutes.” 

Those ‘5 minutes’ eventually stretched to 4 long hours of constant climbing and crawling up rocks and waterfalls. At the very start of the trek, Prabhakar had commented on our presence in the group stating that ‘ladies’ tend to slow down the trek. Bearing that in mind, Komal and I kept pushing ourselves to move ahead and, at around a little after 2pm, were the first of our group to clamber onto the summit. Hooray for the ladies! 

No sooner did we land on the plateau at the summit than we lay flat on our backs and shut our eyes soaking in the sense of accomplishment and satisfaction of having completed a trek. Neil did the same while Akshay, Anthony, Viren and Royston tried to get dangerously close to the edge in a bid to see the world spread out at their feet.

It’s a steep drop from up here and it was super windy. It was just then that the heavens decided to grace us with some much needed rain. The view from the summit is truly spectacular. One can get a good view of a gushing waterfall and the almost twin peaks of Gorakhgad and Machindragad that stand like fierce sentinels directly across Ahupe Ghat. 

Yaaaay! We made it!

Ahupe village is on the neighboring plateau which is just a few minutes’ walk away. Here, one can ask for a simple home-cooked meal at any of the villagers’ homes. We opted out of that as we had carried a packed lunch from home. Nothing much, just sandwiches and theplas.

It was as we were feasting like kings (and queens) that we spotted a car in the distance. A car! High up here! Prabhakar very calmly proceeded to tell us that Ahupe Ghat and Ahupe Village are easily accessible by the road which leads to Malshej Ghat.

“Maybe we can ask our driver to come pick us up”, suggested one from our group.

After playing around with the very tempting suggestion for a few seconds we voted in favour of going down the way we had come. So, after about an hour of rest and posing for photographs, we headed back. One would think this would have been easy, but it took us much longer than climbing up. Clambering up a steep incline is tricky, getting back down is even trickier. There are many possibilities of slipping down the slimy, moss-covered rocks. Every time we looked up to see how far we’d reached, we found we were still above the neighboring peaks. But, sliding and slithering we finally found our way back to the river.

We were way behind schedule, so didn’t stop too long at the river, although Anthony did manage to take a dip and I finally took off my boots and washed my sore feet. Akshay and Viren, unfortunately, stepped off track and followed a path that led to another end of the river. Prabhakar was certain that they would find their way to the village, but nonetheless, we insisted he go in search of them while we made our way to Khopivali.

Reunited at the village, we purchased some water and, once again, visited Prabhakar’s humble home to change into a fresh set of clothes. The ones we had on were muddy and drenched in sweat and rainwater. Knowing the villagers are poor and depend on visitors to earn their living, Komal and I gave the woman of the house some money as a token of gratitude for letting us use her home. Prabhakar, being a simple and not very economy-conscious villager, had quoted a fairly low price in exchange for his services as guide, even though he stayed with us for close to 10 hours. Acknowledging his simplicity and the fact that back in our world such services would have burnt a hole in our pockets, we couldn’t find it in us to haggle and paid him a little more than what he had quoted. Even then, it was far less than what any of us would have spent over one meal in Mumbai. Here, in the little village of Khopivali, it meant so much more.

Getting back into the car, we finally headed back to Kalyan station, but this time round we got stuck in traffic for what seemed like ages. Seeing no hope of moving even an inch we alighted at Shahad and boarded the 10.26 fast local heading to CST. While Royston and Viren bid us farewell at Thane, the rest of us went ahead to Dadar and then headed home.

All-in-all, it was an enjoyable and enriching experience. We returned home with more than just sore legs and bruised arms. Here’s what some members of the group have to say …

Neil, our new friend, says, “The best was when I reached the summit, threw down my backpack and lay on the grass with nothing but the sky spread out above me.”

This feeling of exhilaration was shared by Komal, who earns the title of ‘Best Trekker’ not only for being the first to reach the summit but also for her spirit and attitude!

My brother, Anthony shares, “I loved the undergrowth with its myriad flowers and mushrooms. The innumerable waterfalls helped keep us refreshed and cool.” 

Akshay remembers most the refreshing mountain water and has an interesting story to share. He says, “I loved the potable water tank created by the villagers about half-way up the mountain. The tank fills with cool and sweet water from a natural underground source. It’s said that a villager had drunk himself into a stupor while at the peak, and had collapsed at that very spot due to dehydration and a leg injury sustained during his descent. In his desperation and anger, he pushed aside a stone only to discover the natural cistern beneath it.” 

Phew! Thank God for small mercies!

What struck me the most were the flowers that dotted the mountainside, some as tiny as my little fingernail ….they’re surrounded by tough, immovable, gigantic walls of stone, hidden in crevices and clinging on to rocks…high up where only an occasional trekker or villager might glance at them on their way up/down the narrow path…yet they continue to bloom in brilliant colours and dance in the breeze…not for fame or glory…but just because. Now, that's food for thought, isn't it?

Pics by Komal, Anthony & Misha