Himalayan Days

Driving along a hilly-mountainous road on a rainy day, you see a huge tree uprooted and lying flat across the road- a Tata Indica and its driver saved the wrath of the falling tree by a whisker- call it God’s grace, call it fate or rationalize it by saying he was able to apply the brakes at the right time.

A group of villagers take turns to use the only axe they possess to cut the tree into two and maybe, try and push it over the cliff. It rains harder, and the men try harder too- to cut the tree.

Expectedly, the traffic on both sides of the tree comes to a standstill. Expectedly, a large group of onlookers gather around the fallen tree.

One can see traces of sand and stones having rolled down the mountain. One can see a trail about 20 feet up the mountain. The climb up appears treacherous- a broken beer bottle lying on the ground where the climb begins. No proper places to keep your feet either- anywhere on the climb-path.

What better opportunity for a consultant to indulge in some adventure. More so, when the consultant is wearing his slippers- not even his shoes. Thanks to an equally adventurous boss, the consultant, with the help of the shoe-wearing boss try and attempt the climb the height and walk the trail.

On a routine day in a routine place, the climb would be routine. But this is neither a routine day nor a routine place. Believe me, the Himalayas, near the Indo-Tibet/ China border in Himachal can be treacherous when it is raining. (We actually saw a calf literally slipping off the cliff and falling into the deep valley below. Can never forget the sight of the helpless mother-cow running here and there- pleading to nobody in particular to rescue her kid).

We attempted the climb- my boss slipped and almost fell off a few times. I almost emulated his frequency of slipping.

Half way through, we realized, it “wasn’t worth the effort”. Prudence prevailed and we just about managed to come back safely.

The last 4-5 days have been different. We were in the Kinnaur district of Himachal as a part of a project. The village where we stayed lay right in the middle of a beautiful valley- the river Satluj with all its youthful might flowing right through the village. It is an interesting sight. The river is gushing in with all its fury. On its way it encounters rocks, striking them with great speed and forcefully slowing down in its advent towards God-knows-where; changing routes, dancing against the mightier rocks- jumping, twisting and twirling, dancing again and gracefully flowing along. And while it flows, water from different streams join in the river’s quest- some water, milky from the fresh snow that has melted and some, muddied by the rains.

The river absorbs all of this as it flows along.

Standing atop a bridge across the river, I think of the similarity of this river and its path, and the lives we live.

My visits to this bridge happened regularly through the days we stayed there. My regularly companion during these times was the moon, shyly gazing at me from behind the dark clouds.

There is something about the sound of water (river flow/ sound of waves/ rain drops) that has a soothing influence on one’s mind. At least I have felt this often.

I go back now, to “my regular world”- back in Gurgaon. The music of the river, its twists and twirls are still fresh in my mind. As I write this, the moon is still gazing at me. I can see its face now- it no longer is hiding behind the clouds.

To those of you who are making a trip to the mountains anywhere near the river- ensure that your windows are rolled down as you drive, else you may miss out on the music. Also, don’t miss the Dal served in these villages. Doesn’t taste better anywhere else.

Next week I’m likely to Rann off to Kucch. Diametrically opposite to the terrains I’ve just been to.

Watch this space for more.