MY TRIP TO THE HIMALAYAS

(written just b4 my 2nd trip )

Departure

It was the night of my brother’s 'Upanayanam' and I was to leave by the Kongu express for The Himalayas via Delhi.

My parents were so tired, that I was to go with the hostilities to the railway station. Some relatives were still in the house.

I had been scared about climbing The Himalayas for weeks now. It was no ordinary range! It was the largest in the whole world. So many people have died trying to conquer its peaks! Moreover, for me who never really played or exercised, for me who never even liked to move from one chair to another once I’m settled, for me who could not even climb a rock called Savan Durga, how would it be?

Our class had climbed the Savan Durga once in year seven and I had come second last upto halfway up and half the class stayed there, while the others ventured to the top. I had found it so hard that it did nothing to encourage me to do more climbing in the future.

This year when the class voted to go to The Himalayas, I liked the idea but did not know how I would manage it considering all my laziness. As a practise session and to get the feel of what it would be like in The Himalayas, Sharad arranged for another climb to Savan Durga (the 2nd largest monolith in Asia, which is the biggest continent).

That night we stayed over in school planning to leave at six a.m. the next day. I was terrified. I told my teacher, Krishnan Uncle, so and he asked Sharad to give me a pep talk.

“Why are you so scared?“

“Because I couldn’t do it last time.“

“When was that?“

“In 7th.“

“You are misjudging your capabilities. Take it from me, tomorrow will be easier for you than last time.“

There is no point arguing with someone who does not know my capacities well, yet one who thinks he does, I thought. It took me a long time to fall asleep that night.

The next day we were all ready by six a.m. and were standing near the bus. However, we did not leave. We were waiting for Sharad to come from the Study Centre. After all that talk of “The earlier we leave the faster we can go and avoid the mid-day heat“, he was the one who was late. When he finally came, he told us that he woke up at three a.m. thinking he was late, and then went back to sleep with the impression that two hours was a long time.

Anyway, we were on our way now. It took us around one and a half hours to get to the foot of the monolith. On the way, people in the back seats were screaming, cracking jokes, and singing Hindi songs. Hemal was extremely loud and sometimes unpleasantly so, but over all it was fun. People in the front of the bus, including the many teachers who had come along, were either sleeping or chatting quietly. Outside though, it was all quiet. The massive rocks and deserted land of shrubs that we passed became brighter and brighter as time passed. We stopped briefly for breakfast under a few big trees and then after a few more kilometres, we reached the foot of Savan Durga!

It was my shoes that I did not trust, but despite that, my footwork was great. All the teachers took pains to encourage me occasionally, which lifted my morale, and even some of the other slow students kept cheering me up.

What a climb, I thought after it was all over. It was not so hard after all. And I had actually done the whole thing this time and was very proud of that. Only thing was that I was slower than the rest of the class. Nevertheless, I had had fun.

The Qualis arrived at last and after quite an elaborate goodbye to my family, I sat in the front of the packed car with Jazz and Sharad. I was the only girl in the whole car! The boys behind me were in high spirits and were singing all sorts of songs in their own tunes and pitches. We reached the station before the girls of the hostel. Soon the whole lot was tying floor mats to their bags on the platform, and chatting away excitedly. Our class teacher, Krishnan uncle was to come with us with Vinitha aunty, Nandu, Subramanium uncle, and his sister. Those were the adults. Sharad…well, couldn’t be considered an adult, I guess. He was more like another member of our class, as he took no time in blending in with us. Soon, the train left Bangalore, and after a while, we all fell asleep.

And so it begins

The next day, I was woken by Hemal’s exclamation of how beautiful the sunrise was. I looked outside the opened windows at the sceneries flashing by. The sky was lit a spectacular hue of orange and the warm sun was just above the horizon. The flat land around us was of more or less dry vegetation with an occasional field of paddy or sunflowers. The brightness of the paddy’s green and the sunflower’s yellow was pleasant to the eye: a change from the monotonous shades of army green. Hemal was right. It was truly beautiful.

I freshened up and returned to our compartment. Amrutha was being woken up, or rather, irritated by Hemal. He was sticking a stick into her nose and tickling her face with it. She was trying vainly to shoo him away and sleep for a while longer. Aakriti and Alisha were sleeping undisturbed. D.B. (short for Dibyendu) and Choeeta were awake and gazing outside. Dharthi must have been awake and in another compartment.

In the other compartments, the others were half asleep too. Only in the teacher’s cabin, and I was surprised at first, they were up and singing!

Soon our ordered breakfast arrived and after eating, many of them played cards. It was so boring that I fell asleep again. I woke up in time for lunch at Hyderabad; pizzas and cokes from Karthik’s father as a treat for his birthday coming up.

Then we sang: Vini, Kamaan, Parth, and myself. Parth taught us a song and Vini and Kamaan sang something that they had learnt recently.

Later in the evening, just before dinner arrived, we started singing Hindi songs and some of us were so excited that we started dancing in the train. If Gopi, our previous class teacher, had seen us, he would have given us a blasting then and there on behaviour and attracting unwanted attention. But lucky for us, he was not present.

We played some more cards after dinner then fell asleep one by one. The next morning we woke up much later than the previous day. We ate, sang, played Mafia, or cards, or slept, the whole day. And in the evening, we reached the capital of India, New Delhi.

From the Nizzamuddin station, we took a local train to Old Delhi station. We had a bath in the waiting rooms. It was really refreshing.

I was scared of this new city. The place alone didn’t bother me much except for its pollution, but my father and Vini had warned our class girls of North Indian men, especially ones in groups.

After my bath, I caught up on the latest gossip of our class then went down to call my parents. I talked to both my parents and told them to say hi to my brother. I missed them but my class was like my second family so I didn’t really feel lonely.

After the call, I saw some puppies under the flight of stairs that led to the waiting rooms. They were so very small and so, so, so cute! But, we were told not to touch them because the mother may attack.

Soon I was called downstairs again to meet Veda’s aunt and uncle. They looked quite young and very friendly. I was to stay with them when we returned to Delhi on our return journey with Veda, (she had invited me because she herself didn’t know them well and wanted company.) I had met them briefly when both of us were called upstairs. It was time to get on the night train to Katgodam.

In the train, it was dark and a bit dirtier than the Kongu express but I was put with the same wonderful people as in the previous train. We would have to get up at 0445 so most of us slept early.

I woke up before we had to and watched the red sun rise from beyond the first hills we saw. We were at the toes of The Great Himalayan range. The train stopped soon and we got down to cleaner and colder air than in Delhi.

On the platform, there was a man taping some of us and suddenly I was again reminded of my father’s warning. ‘North Indian men aren’t to be trusted. They have much less exposure to education or decency. You being a young lady, must be very, very careful in the north.’ Suddenly I was quite petrified of what may happen. The few of us who had noticed the men walking towards us, carefully made our ways toward the teachers.

To our surprise, the men too, walked straight towards the teachers and greeted them warmly. When I saw that, I realised that they must be our guiding group; The Pulse Racers. We were so relieved.

They led us to a bus and tied our bags to the top. We got on and rode to Nainital. There, we had four rooms to freshen up in before we would ride on to our first camp, Song. We were advised not to take baths as, the climatic and altitudinal change would have a more unpleasant effect on us if we did. Therefore, I just brushed my hair, ate the parathas, drank cold coffee and waited for everyone else.

The bus ride after that was fascinating. The scenery was brilliant. Water gushing everywhere with rocks of different sizes, shapes, colours, and textures randomly placed in and around the river Kosi. There’d be glittering mica rocks or solid pastel coloured rocks.

The driver was very sensitive about breaking a branch on a difficult turn, but at the same time the horn he used was especially unhealthy for any environment. Both he and the conductor smiled to each other whenever I blocked my ears and made a face at the noise. At the back of the bus there was a joke and story session going on with Sharad and whoever was awake, whereas at the front, Vini, Nandu and I watched the breathtaking sceneries pass by. When the mood suited her, Vini would enlighten us with whatever she knew about the Himalayan culture and what daily life was like there. (She once lived here and so always feels at home in the mountains.)

She also commented on the effort put in by Sharad, who she knew hadn’t slept well in two to three days, in keeping the awakened students occupied and happy, so that they wouldn’t feel queasy. That was nice of him, I thought.

In the mountains

The huge forest covered hills loomed above the terraced fields and the young Kosi as far as the horizon could reach. Our ride ended abruptly at Song, and we all put on our bags and trekked three kilometres of the toughest uphill. Some of the others felt dizzy and again, nauseous and I was dreadfully breathless and pooped out. I was trying to go as fast as the rest and I couldn’t so I felt like sitting, and crying and just giving up. It was beginning to get dark when I reached Loharkhet. The first thing I did was tell everyone sitting outside the rooms that I loved them all (at which they moaned at ‘untimely’ sentimentality), then I went to a patch of grass away from the group and cried. I still don’t have a clue why. Most probably the altitude and the strain and the fear of not being able to do the rest of the trek, and the relief and happiness of having done this part successfully, all mixed up.

I changed into trekking pants and a shirt in the dark room and went to get dinner, after which we all watched the bright white moon rise from behind dark hills in the distance. It was like a big, bright white, self-luminescent pearl that lit the sky and dimmed the glory of the sparkling stars.

After it was fully risen, we were called together and given advice on mountains, trekking, safety and an outline of our basic plan of trekking.

We were to have a regular start on all days; 5 a.m. wake up, 6 a.m. breakfast and at the latest 7 a.m. leave for next stop.

We slept indoors in our sleeping bags and with the midnight orchestra of Krishnan uncle and Subramanium uncles’ snoring.

The next day was an eleven-kilometre trek to Dhakudi. All of us went at our own paces and I was again at the end but this time I knew that we had to find our own rhythm and that we would be comfortable only if we stick to it and take our time about it. I made sure I didn’t sit till lunchtime. The group which had the closest rhythm to me; Veda, Choeeta and D.B., kept stopping for rest and water. We were advised against letting our bodies cool down for then we’d have to restart and get over the static inertia all over again. I stopped only once in half an hour or so for water.

After the initial climb we came to a section that reminded me of the Misty Mountains in Lord of the Rings. The clouds were on the path and we were walking through them. The trees all around us were full of life. Epiphytes like mosses and ferns grew on the bark of the pines, oaks and other trees. Life was in every nook, corner and gap possible.

I was slightly ahead of Vini, Krishnan uncle, Veda and co., when a few metres ahead of me I heard a rumbling sound like something heavy was rushing down. Was it an avalanche? Or a boulder rolling down? Or was it actually thunder of an approaching storm? I stood frozen to the spot ready to duck, run, or dodge the source of the progressively louder sounds.

It got quite loud then suddenly there was a gust of wind that nearly threw me off balance. There was no more noise. At that moment, I saw, a metre or so in front of me, a great golden brown eagle take off from the woods and soar into the sky. Its wingspan was so large that it overwhelmed me. And the grace with which it flew past was so incredible that I was filled with a joy that I couldn’t explain. I felt so lucky to have witnessed such beauty and elegance.

I was quite proud of myself for making it to Dhakudi when I got there. Eleven kilometres at my own pace: I had quite enjoyed it. One of the Pulse racers, Mukund, had shown Choeeta and me a short cut that happened to take us longer than the path would have. But it was only because the terrain was less used there than the path.

Over all it really wasn’t as tough as I thought it would be. The last kilometre was down hill and some of us ran down it to greet the others who were there before us.

Dhakudi was an alpine meadow and the only place where we stayed in tents. Since we had reached around 3 p.m., we had plenty of time to relax and play.

That evening when the clouds cleared was the first time I ever saw the Great Himalayas. The immense snow capped, HUGE, COLOSSAL, MAGNIFICENT, MASSIVE mountains loomed in the distance. I suddenly fell silent in awe of such majesty.

I happened to be with Sharad at that time and he asked if it was my first time. When I told him that it was, he told me about his first time: he was on top of a bus and it took a turn and voila! There they were, humungous as ever. He had screamed in ecstasy then and the driver had thought something was wrong and stopped the bus for him.

As more clouds cleared, more and more of them could be seen. I was sitting on the wall watching them as an Irishman approached me, introduced himself and told me that he had gone to Pindari and stayed there for a night and was on his way back. It was terribly cold, he said. I told him how I thought they looked so big and he replied that though they seem close they’re actually incredibly far away. He was on his way back to life from heaven, I thought.

This really did feel like I had died and gone to heaven. I’d hate to go back.

In the night, after dinner, we gazed at the stars. I found Orion and Sharad showed me Scorpio. The night sky was quite clear compared to the days’. There were other constellations too but I don’t remember them now.

The next day was announced to be easier. So after a song session, we slept later than usual. The night was cold and damp in the tent. Dharti, who I shared my tent with, woke me up at 3:54 am thinking it was five and both of us were nearly ready to get started for the day when she checked her watch again and found out the real time.

We could hear the bells of the mules clanging throughout the night. It was an endless sonata, in the otherwise silent night.

We were woken up at the right time by the talk of the girls in the nearby tents. We started off at 7 p.m. on the eight kilometres to Khati. It was quite easy. More of the path was level or down hill than strenuous uphill but while doing it, the downhill seemed harder. Uphill was atleast easy on your knees!

The path was right in a forest with many beautiful waterfalls and views of Pindari from the edges and clearings. I saw a bunch of monkeys and since I was walking alone, I was a little apprehensive about walking past them. Then I told myself that they wouldn’t do anything to me so long as I don’t harm them. I walked past quietly and with friendly thoughts to send positive vibes and I got past them. Later, I saw a couple of paradise flycatchers (my brother‘s favourite birds) and many others, of which I don’t know the names.

I kept overtaking people until I was somewhere in the front just behind the fastest people.

I walked with Hemal for a while and felt very physically fit, (for he is the fastest in our class) until I found out that he had hurt his ankle and was still able to walk at a decent pace. While I was with him, we saw a spectacular view of the Pindari and the mountains around it. While we were standing there watching, Hemal suddenly broke the silence by saying, “And people say India isn’t beautiful”. I didn’t reply. Though I had given up believing in countries and patriotism for more than a year, when he said that, I felt a strange kind of love for India.

I had, by then, overtaken Kshitija and Pro, (short for Prabin) who were now trying to over take me again. I let them.

Soon we crossed a village in which many of us stopped for tea. I didn’t though, but a man started asking me questions anyway.

Generally, I say “Namaste” to the villagers we pass to give them respect and also in a way, show my gratitude to them for simply existing and living such simple lives and inspiring me in a way. So I said the same to him and he took the opportunity to start a big conversation with me. He asked me where I came from, whether I was part of a bigger group, how many teachers, where we would stay that day, why I’m walking alone and he also told me why I shouldn’t be. He even suggested that I stay for tea but I refused, growing more impatient and scared by the second. I knew that villagers wouldn’t harm me, but I wasn’t even sure he was a villager by the amount of English and the dialect of Hindi he spoke.

When I got away, I was really quite relieved.

But due to the time spent on conversing with him, I had fallen behind. So, soon Yamini and Reva (short for Revati) joined me from behind and we walked together for sometime too. We again entered the forests and took pictures of the waterfalls together. We passed the ‘2 Kms left’ board and saw a big stream in which water was flowing in a lot of volume and speed. It was scary crossing that one, not because it was dangerous but because we didn’t want to get our shoes wet.

From being in one of the last batches on the first day, I was towards the front on the second. I felt good. Infact, I was so full of energy, that I walked back a kilometre to see how my other group-mates were doing. That morning Veda had been crying because of a stomach ache and Choeeta, like me, was anaemic. They weren’t too far behind and D.B. was accompanying them.

All of us reached in good time and as usual, cheered Nandu’s arrival in the end. Himalayas, more than a physical challenge, was a test of mental endurance and strength. And all of us had plenty of it.

We put the bags in the rooms, grabbed our change of clothes and towels, and walked back to the big stream we had seen earlier for our first bath in many days. The boys went downstream and the girls upstream: so up, that no one could see even if they tried. It took a lot of courage to get into the water as just dipping my toes in, made them numb and cold. I almost decided not to take the bath after all, but I saw the others in the water and not frozen, but actually having fun! So I told myself I have to do this, and that I could. I climbed the rocks to where the girls were in their mere underclothes and said aloud,“ I am insensitive.” I went knee deep into the water and came right out. I tried again, this time, believing what I said and adding that I couldn’t feel a thing (which was true due to the numbness). When I realized this, I said aloud, “The water is warm”.

I went in all at once and shivered a bit but after a few moments, I started splashing around and having fun. After half an hour of fun and washing up, I didn’t want to get out. Neither did the others. The water actually felt warm but since it was flowing, the change of temperature had occurred in our minds.

It was a bath that beat all previous baths in terms of fun and degree of courage needed to get in.

The boys had gotten out, dressed and gone by the time the girls thought of finishing up. Only Krishnan uncle and Sharad waited for us politely with their backs to our territory. We dressed and made our way back for lunch. The food was rich in starch, as usual, and made up for all the calories we may have lost during trekking. We all had the feeling that the Pulse Racers were trying to fatten us up, and were hoping against hope, that they weren’t cannibalistic!

After lunch, there was another joke session with Sharad which went on for hours, until we were called for ‘a village walk in Khati’.

In the village we saw the life style of the people and how simple they were. They cooked with firewood and collected water from the small river we had taken a bath in. The girls were very beautiful with their combed hair slightly wind blown and sweet, innocent smiles. Their skin was very clear, which I thought must be because the air is fresh there. They wore simple but slightly faded clothes. They were quite short. And all their eyes sparkled with curiosity at the new comers: us. The houses were small and dainty and were more or less self-sufficient without the intervening of “developers” in their quiet settlement. Except that the place was floored with mule dung, it was a very sweet little settlement.

Soon night approached and we had dinner. We sang a bit and then looked for constellations. Until we slept that night, we couldn’t find Orion. After dinner we had a bonfire around which, we danced and listened to Kirti’s “Chamachamachamachama chama chameleonnnn…” which we found quite funny. Kamaan also sang us a song that he wrote. It was about America’s hypocrisy and dictatorial actions over the world. It wasn’t written emotionally, rather, in a way of mocking them. That was heaps of fun and I finally started respecting him who I had quite disliked all this while.

The next day’s trek to Dwali was said to be harder: eleven kilometres of tough terrain. So we slept relatively early. Again we passed many streams, rivulets, and waterfalls. The trees around us were lush green and the air was crisp.

I wondered, while walking, how I would talk of this experience when it was over.

Was it possible to convey these feelings in words? How would I make the listener feel as if he/she were walking through the mist and the rain? How would I make him/her feel the inscrutable joy that filled my every sense? Could I feel this way myself after it was over? Won’t I think of it just as a wonderful dream?

There were some hard and dangerous paths and bridges towards the end. For the last two kilometres, I developed a slight pain in my left ankle. I could see Dwali for more than a kilometre and fooled myself that it was close, but it took forever to get there. This day’s trek had been hard. It had required me a lot of mental and physical strength to keep moving.

In Dwali, we had coffee and relaxed. It had been tiring and the weather was making things worse by raining and restricting us to under the roof of the rooms. There were attempts to play games like Chinese whispers but nothing worked out.

The rain did stop eventually.

We were next to a landslide. It was sad to think that if it weren’t a land –slide, it would have been as beautifully green as the rest of the hills around. We slept at seven pm that day.

The next day was The Pindari Day: Twenty four kilometres to and fro.

The next morning, we were woken at 2 am, told not to brush our teeth, but to grab our torches, and just start trekking. However, when we exited the room, we saw that it was raining and that we couldn’t start yet.

At around 3 or 330, we started despite the rain, with our torches and plastic covers on our heads if our jacket hoods weren’t waterproof already. We walked on and on in the dark and in the slush and I got sick of the dark and the pain in my ankle. But inevitably, the sun rose, and we stopped in a teashop in the middle of nowhere, where I got an ankle support from Subramanium uncle. Then I started feeling better.

Vishnu, Veda, Choeeta, and D.B., who were in my group, shared the load of extra socks, torches, water, and emergency medicine in turns.

We reached Phurkia at six and had what was supposed to be breakfast. But few of us liked it. Instead, we filled our stomachs with the dry fruits and nuts we had brought along. At Phurkia, we were given the option to stay back if we weren’t feeling up to it but no one opted out.

We saw a yeti, or rather; a yeti shaped rock on top of one of the closer hills and told each other not to be scared, as it couldn’t come down by the time we well on our way to Pindari.

We crossed three hills through two bridges, under which, such massive quantities of bluish-green water were flowing at a dangerous speed. We stopped near these streams for everyone to catch up. Darbanji, our local Himalayan guide, said that otherwise, we could lose each other. The path was the most dangerous we had seen yet and there was very little downhill, as today, we would reach up to the altitude of 4000 meters above sea level.

The vegetation around us was less green and seemed to be in the beginning stages of evolution. There were many more lichens and mosses than trees. But there were small plants that had bright red strawberry like, fruits. We wondered how they would taste, and were stopped by Vini just in time and told that they were poisonous. But there were wild strawberries that she had plucked. We ate them on our stop for lunch on the third bank.

We trekked on and on into the hills and got very tired and thirsty. We saw many magnificently shaped mushrooms and ferns. Our rate was terribly slow. Twenty minutes for one kilometre. Darbanji was walking with my group as the mules passed. He asked me if I would like to ride on one. I refused vehemently thinking that if I couldn’t get on one, how would I ride it? He asked me again later. I considered it and ended up saying yes.

After all, isn’t life about different experiences?

They helped me mount and Darbanji walked the mule with me on it the whole while. I covered around one or two kilometres on the mule. Darban seemed to like the faster pace and smiled most of the way.

The mule ride wasn’t so scary after all. I had slipped and nearly fallen several times but with a few tips from Darban, I was soon a smooth and efficient rider.

We passed a landslide or two and the steep ups and downs were scary due to the turbulent bumping of the mule’s back. But I realized that I was safer on the mule than on foot because it knew exactly what it was doing and had infinitely more experience in the mountains than I.

I soon got off and walked the remaining two kilometres to the sage’s house. We were eager to go on all the way to Zero Point after a break but due to the Pulse Racers’ forecast of rain, there was some confusion.

We were there for around one or two hours. First we took photos in groups and then stood around. The clouds cleared as if by magic and we saw the glacier up close and magnified. It was a huge mass of white in irregular step-like formations. Soon even the clouds around us cleared and we could see mountains capped with snow all around us. It was really fascinating.

In some time, some of us went to Zero Point and came back whereas some others, which includes me, walked halfway and sat there staring at Pindari Glacier and its huge white mass. We were one kilometre away from snow and those of us who had never touched it before, really wanted to.

I saw how just under the glacier there were bare rocks and how as one went further and further away, lichens of different colours grew in the gaps. Darbanji told us that every year, the glacier would recede further back and life forms in the previous years, never grew this close into the glacier. Global warming, I thought. I was glad I was born before all the snow on earth melted.

When the students who had gone to Zero Point returned, we had tea and pickled parathas. Quite good.

It was now time to go back to Dwali. It was a long trek and we were litter picking on the way back. By the time we got to Phurkia, it had rained badly on our bags and many of our ankles were not functioning well.

We walked on at a faster speed but it was still depressing in the rain. I composed a ‘complaints song’:

“My ankles hurt,

My knees are gone.

I want to stop,

But I got to go on.

My jacket is soaked,

And so is my head.

This wet, slushy ground

Is not a good bed.

My socks are wet

‘Cause I fell into a stream.

It’s so quiet,

I’d love to scream.

The sky is grey,

And so is my mood,

And to my soles,

Is sticky mud, glued.

This endless trek

Is going on forever.

When will we stop?

…Never?”

Though it was no great poetry, it kept me occupied for a while. I repeated it several times in different tunes but only one stuck well, the one that sounded like I was whining and feeling philosophical at the same time. The rhythm was kept constant for that was the tempo at which I walked. The words changed every time I sang, but this is what I remember now.

So I walked on and on through the rain, fog and slush. And since my song was completed, I wanted to sing it to my friends. Maybe they would even like to sing along. I sat on a dry rock and waited for Veda and Choeeta.

They liked it. We continued singing other songs got to do with mountains like ‘The sound of music’, ‘Climb every mountain’ from the same movie, Khada Himalay which is a Hindi folk song, and others.

Then we sang ‘Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree’ for a long time, again and again. We sang it in different styles. The ordinary, then pair up and start after the other finished a line. On and on we sang, till in the middle, they stopped singing. I didn’t really bother wondering why or bother to stop or reduce my volume. I finished the second last line at the top of my voice, and then I saw the reason!!

Two incredibly good-looking guys were trekking up towards us. They looked at me and smiled. I was so embarrassed. When they passed me they said hi, and I managed to squeak one back to them. Obviously they were very amused! I caught up with the other two and asked why on earth they couldn’t tell me they were coming! They fell into girly giggles while I consoled myself that at least I was in tune and no matter how, they did noticed me didn’t they? And knew that I knew English. I found out later that they had said Namaste to the other two thinking they didn’t know English!

We had four more kilometres in which I trekked with Aakriti, Kshitija and Sharad. When we were nearly there, Sharad who had knee cramps ran ahead to get there faster and rest. I felt something collapse in me when I saw his face constricted with pain. Seeing him in pain gave me the same feeling that one would get if one saw a big elephant fall or a thick, old tree chopped. A source of strength, awe and confidence fail.

When I reached, I too was in a bad condition. All I wanted to do was drop and sleep. But then, who wouldn’t after 26 Kms, that too since 3 am? Everyone was in a sour temper, not willing to move or talk. There were some near fights due to irritation, and all the tiredness showed in everyone’s red faces. It took me no time to register the mood of my fellow trekkers. But then something happened then that even now I can’t explain:

I dropped my bag in the room and fetched some plates for whoever wasn’t eating bakodas already. I brought Vini some tea in her glass, which pleased her a lot, and since I felt so sad for Sharad, I got him some bakodas too. Hemal wanted more but I think food was limited so I gave him one of mine. And I did everyone favours till there weren’t any left.

By the time I sat at my bakodas, they were cold and most people were done and happier.

It gave me a sense of satisfaction to have seen so many smiles caused by me. Call it selfish if you like but also remember I didn’t sit or eat till no one else needed anything and I was as hungry and tired as them.

After moods lifted high enough, we walked to the nearby river. We sat there till it got darker and we walked back plucking wild strawberries on the way.

The next morning we were on normal routine again and reached Khati in good time. We passed another landslide on the way there. In the afternoon we played the push over game that Kamaan taught us I won against Vishnu. That evening, Sharad and I saw a thumb in the tree. It wasn’t a real thumb ofcourse, but the tree’s silhouette looked like a thumbs up sign. Strange how the human mind sees such shapes!

There were very strong musical vibes in the air after that so I ended up singing on and on till I slept.

The next day started with kharaj with Vini at 430 am that we had been doing on all days but the Pindari day. We had lunch at Dhakudi and proceeded straight to Loharkhet. It was a tiring 19 kms and it rained in the middle in which time we were luckily near a shelter. We were delayed badly by that stop and after that went even slower because the rocks were slippery.

Darbanji held my hand, as I was really scared of falling and so was going slower than the rest. He, being born and brought up in the mountains, maintained a great speed with only slippers. No socks, or sneakers. That was really impressive.

Soon after we reached we were all in a circle giving eachother back massages, and leg massages. Since Sharad and Siddu were the best at it, they were in demand but since all the girls preferred Sharad they went to them. His hands may get tired, and I did feel sorry about that, but that’s the price he pays for being popular with the girls. Fortunately for him I went to Siddu. There’s something repulsive about being too popular that made me ignore him the rest of the day.

That night, we had an entertainment round. Pri, and Su danced for ‘road dancer’, Kshit and Pri sang a song from Chicago, the movie. Others sang our usual songs and some contributed to the jokes.

The final morning in the mountains again started with kharaj. We trekked down the 3 Kms that we had climbed on the first day and got onto the bus. We took photos with Darbanji, thanked him for everything and told him we’ll come back next time we can.

The bus ride was really long and we stopped in a temple on the way. We reached Katgodam only in the night, boarded the train and slept till we reached old Delhi station the next morning. The Pulse Racers left us there. We took an early morning local train from there and made our way to New Delhi where rooms were being booked for us.

But I was to go to Veda’s aunts house. I said bye to the others who were planning on a movie and shopping, and rode into Delhi in the air-conditioned car. We passed Rashtrapathi Bhavan, and the Parliament House and saw the red sun rising when we passed India Gate. Delhi really impressed me with its aura of power and wide roads with few cars. But ofcourse, during the day it would be more crowded.

Veda’s uncle asked us about the trip on the way to their apartment in south Delhi, and Veda answered most of the questions.

Soon we were welcomed into a modish apartment by her aunt and her sister. I hadn’t noticed last time we had met but now it was obvious that she was pregnant.

They gave us great coffee and biscuits to go with it and I noted that my appetite had really grown. Soon we all sat down for breakfast and stuffed ourselves with pancakes and toast. Something beyond delicious after a fortnight of potatoes and rotis. Then the couple left for their jobs and so did the other aunt. We had the apartment to ourselves.

We were really lazy and so we simply sat around for a long time. Then we decided if we were going to shop, and meet the others for lunch, we better get a move on.

While I took out my clothes, and browsed through a book, Veda had a bath. She took around half an hour and came out refreshed. Then I went in and luxuriously stood under the shower and calmed my eco friendly conscience that I hadn’t used up much water for the past two weeks so this was okay.

We left a note for her aunt and uncle saying thanks and that the food was good. We did a final packing and left in the car. We drove to Dilli Haat and shopped. I bought something or other for all the members of my family in Bangalore. And for myself, I got a skirt, a set of whacky earrings, and a ring. Out of all the things I bought I especially liked the Tibetan dagger I bought for my brother, the glass Ganesha for my father, the candle stand for my mother and the green shawl I got my grandma the best.

We had lunch in Dilli haat, then drove back to our rooms thinking that the others would be there by then to do some extra shopping. We waited and waited but they didn’t come. Out of our own stupidity we had sent the car away and so were stuck there with nothing to do at all. We played word games, gossiped about anything and everything we could think of, and whiled away our time. We got a bit hungry at five-thirty and made our way to the in-built hotel for some bread and milk. We were just about finished when who should in but Kamaan and Sharad with mischievous glints in their eyes.

They joined us and boasted about how they had snuck away to watch ‘Dhoom’, when they got sick of our class. They seemed to have had a lot of fun that we too could have had had they known we were bored for four hours.

When the others came, I was really happy we had gotten bored instead of having gone shopping with them for they were all sweaty and tired from walking the streets of Delhi in the hot Delhi sun and stinky pollution.

We had gone shopping in style in an air-conditioned car!

We got onto the train after a good dinner and waited for the others who had visited friends or family in Delhi. They had had a lot of fun too. Once the train started moving, we realized the difference between this coach and the ordinary second-class coach. This was AC.

In the train ride, we felt exceptionally clean because dust wasn’t blown into our faces. There were blankets and pillows that were really comfy, and even the berths seemed thicker. Everything was cleaner around us and even the people were different. We played cards, sang songs, went through magazines and newspapers, shared our love lives with each other and on the whole, became even closer as a group.

We were about to reach Bangalore, when I realized this was the end. A long journey, with its ups and downs, was over.

In these two weeks, we had been transported, literally and figuratively, into another world, another life.

We were now going back to our daily routine. I didn’t want this to end. Almost everyone was slightly nostalgic, so most of fell silent. We got off at Bangalore city, and went to our respective homes.

But then I remembered the promise that I made to Darbanji about how I would return, next time I could. A promise I have kept, for, I am going there again in a few days. Whether or not he’ll join us there, I don’t know.

Epilogue

The trek had made me so much healthier than I was before that I started eating like a pig and I put on close to nine kgs. This time when I go there, my purpose is to lose weight.

I later heard from Veda, that her aunt had a girl child.

My company now, is a mix group of students and friends of the Valley. Sure, some of my classmates are coming, but it really won’t be the same.

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