A tryst with nature...

To begin, if you need the context of this post, you're going to have to read the previous one.

So, we'd just gotten off at Manali, in splendid weather. The sun was out and a gentle breeze greeted us as we alighted from the trax, paid our driver and cursorily hoped that he'd got some sleep before he ever set foot on that brake pedal ever again.

Now, we dint have the slightest idea of where we were going to stay for the next couple of days. So room hunting was the next item of action.

The tourist season was about a month away, so we found a reasonable room for 700 bucks a night. Since we were 7, we split into two groups. It was lunchtime so Chinmay, Sallu and myself went hunting for food, while Pulkit Malpani and the rest negotiating our room rent.

The three of us, walked into a medium sized restaurant and gorged on some amazing Butter Rotis and Dal Tadka.

When we got back to our hotel, these smart alecs had put all of us into one room. 7 of us in a single room!!. Of course, it worked out really economically, and at that point we were pretty happy after maybe a mouthful of abuse from me.

After a shower, we just got out and walked. Again, being economical meant that we couldn't really hire a car everyday so we walked.

After a while, the road split. One leading down to the river Beas below, and the other into the pine forests.

Up we went and at half past 5 in the evening, the dirt path narrowed down like the tail of a serpent getting smaller and smaller with each step we took. The skies turned to the color of velvet purple from the ashen shade it bore when we started off.









After an hour into the forest, the dirt track changed from brown to wild green and merged into thorny scrubs as the skies darkened further. That was our cue to turn back.

That trek should have been my favorite till date but something unexpected happened.

It was only then that we realized that sallu was gone. He'd been gone for a long time but we just realized.

We were pretty much the only humans in the forest, and we hurried back as fast as our feet carried us downhill. Someone remarked that he might have been carried away by a bear or a leopard.

Either way, after 20 odd minutes he called. Turned out he took the road going down into the river, and we were too deep in the forest so phones were unreachable.

The good thing about his endeavor was the fact that he ran into a place where we could river rappel.

For 50 bucks, it was an enthralling experience. You rappel from one bank of the Beas to the other, with the white waters of the river in all its turbulence beneath you.





Midway through the return, the rope is oscillated up and down until you're completely drenched in the river, and its icy cold water bites into your skin.



The next morning we walked again, but this time with more purpose. The destination being a hot sulphur spring with apparently healing properties. The climb was far more gentle than the previous day's and the weather turned out great.

Along the way, the scenes were those taken out of a postcard, with mountains, forests and rivers.







We reached the spring by mid-day and after a dip, we returned. After speaking to the locals, we heard that Rohtang pass at 15000 ft above sea level was in great weather, and having come this far we shouldn't miss out. So we decided to go.

That afternoon, we managed to find a Nescafe. Kasli, Pulkit and myself were sitting around having coffee and talking about the trip to be. That was when 4 asian girls showed up and occupied the table next to ours. We dint have a clue as to what they were saying, but there were definitely some glances which turned into stares between those two tables.

Somehow, the conversation steered from what route we were going to take, and moved to inviting the 4 asian girls along. The blame for that lies squarely on Pulkit again.

We'd booked a jeep which seated 7, and we were seven already. Now, the idea of inviting the four asian girls seemed absurd because, well we dint have seats.

Now, we had a second thought and looked around. It was Pulkit, Kasli and myself and 4 asian girls and that was seven. And Kasli jumps out and says "unko lite lo, ham teen jaenge inke saath" (Ditch the other 4 guys, lets go with these girls).

Pulkit vehemently agreed, and I nodded along. Back then I was in a relationship, so I looked at the whole thing in jest. In my head, none of this was going to happen because, we hadn't even asked them yet.

Before I knew it, Pulkit and Kasli were arguing as to who should ask them. The argument grew in intensity, and neither of those dimwits were ready to walk up to their table and ask. Kasli had a sudden attack of diarrhea out of nowhere, and he bolted out of there looking for a toilet.

Before Pulkit could say anything, I went to the other table, asked one of those girls if they wanted to go to Rohtang with us. One of them told me that they'd been there the previous day, and the weather was great and asked us to have a good time.

So that was that. Except for Pulkit who kept asking how I did it. Those two make a big deal out of the whole thing even today, adding more spice into each retold version. But that was it plain and simple.

Anyway, some of us wanted to have a drink that night, and we went to a bar+restaurant. After a couple of drink, Kasli (remember he had diarrhea) was out. We walked out on to what was probably the busiest traffic junction at Manali. Right about when we were crossing the street, the light changed from red to green. Kasli, understandably was moving slower than us. A frustrated motorist made the mistake of honking. Kasli let rip " Bh******, Ga***, Ma ke l***, Mooth doonga tere gaadi pe" (#Abuse#, I'll pee on your car).

At the next honk, he was on the verge of removing his footwear and hurling it at the approaching traffic before we intervened. A good 40 seconds after the lights had changed, we managed to get him across.

At the other end, a small girl no more than 5 years old had the misfortune of running into Kasli. Kasli, by now frustrated that he couldnt abuse the motorists more, promptly popped the little girls balloon.

Heaven knows how quick we got him out of there before her parents showed up.

That night, we had a conundrum to solve about how 7 of us were going to squeeze into a queen bed. The answer was that we couldn't. We managed 4, and with some difficulty 5 where Pulkit and Malpani took turns getting kicked.




It was Chinmay and Sallu who offered to sleep on the floor, and remembering how cold that night was, hats off to them.

We dint really get much sleep that night, since we had to depart for Rohtang pass at 4 the next morning.

We hired a jeep and some snow clothes along the way. At 7, we stopped for breakfast at a dhaba 14000 ft above sea level.

At temperatures, dropping below zero and icy winds biting into our skins, the aloo parathas and tea tasted even better.



The ride into Rohtang was splendid. A picturesque view, with snow as far as the eye could see, clouds that you could lay hands on, yaks, skis and the sun glistening off the snow.







A 14 hour journey beyond Rohtang lies Leh, and 20 hours beyond that is Siachen glacier, a destination I hope to reach some day.



A day out in snow was insane and just about when our feet could freeze no more, we descended down to Manali, checked out and got on the next bus to Chandigarh, for a return journey not half as eventful as the onward.

The trip of a lifetime

Hola,

There's something to it. Unplanned trips, with a miserly budget without a luxury hotel or a chauffeur driven vehicle to take you places.

Trips that take you places which seems to be thronged by everyone but you still have a story to write about 2 years down the line.

Thats right. This post is about one such unforgettable trip that happened 2 years back. Bunch of guys really bored with work decide to get out on a Friday evening.

We were interns at the Central Scientific Instruments Organization at Chandigarh for the summer of 2009. Not exactly a place where you get satisfying work but we were just done with the sophomore year and knew next to nothing.

A month an a half had passed and we were sick of checking out girls at Sector 17 and Sector 35 in Chandigarh. We needed something for an adrenaline rush.

After a flurry of suggestions, backouts and arguments, Manali was the chosen destination. Now the consensus was reached at 6 in the evening, and in an hour all of us were packed and on the road.

Now, the tiny problem that we had was that neither of us had the slightest clue about how we would be getting to Manali, where we would stay and how much it would cost us.

Nevertheless, after a bit of asking around and deciphering Punjabi answers, we found that there were two buses leaving Chandigarh to Manali one at 8 and 9.

With quite a bit of scampering, Chinmay losing his slippers and ignoring the very wise auto wala's advice of " Ek do khambe ke bina mat jao " (Don't go without booze)
we tantalizingly saw the bus at 8 moving away just as we reached the bus terminus.

That meant that we had an hour to kill before the next bus so butter roti and dal tadka were in order.

And so we were at the platform and the clock struck 9 30 and there were no signs of the bus. About 5 minutes later kasli comes panting in and says that the bus to manali is at another platform.

Pandemonium ensued and we found ourselves running at pace holding bags in one hand and our pants in the other to platform 5. Only then did we realize that the bus just arrived from Manali and would stay parked there for the night.

Meanwhile, a wisecrack from elsewhere just got off the phone and told us that the bus we'd been waiting for just showed up back at platform 7.

About 30 seconds of non-stop full blooded "Punjabi Gaali" (abuse) at Kasli ensued, before we held our bags and pants again only to sprint back to 7.

And presto, it was as empty as we had left it 2 mins back. No bus, no people, not even a mouse running around. The full blooded gaali was now aimed at thin air this time.

So we waited, for another hour, and another and there seemed no signs of the bus arriving. Rumors of the bus being halted at Pathankot were flying around and either way, the bottomline was that we dint have a bus to Manali that night.

Now, the simple thing would have been to turn back. But we were determined to get ourselves into shit that night.

So, after walking around a bit, we found a big burly Haryanvi chap who offered us to take us by trax. We were seven and we managed to get 2 more guys. After a bit of argy bargy about the price we settled it.

The tiny problem about the whole deal was that the big burly Haryanvi, half drunk now, and smoking like a chimney demanded that we pay upfront. Now we weren't entirely certain about this, cuz if the vehicle broke down somewhere along the way. we were downright screwed.

So, while we were thinking this out, another chap shows up with some cartons and tags along. We're happy enough with him coming along since we pay less. None of us really suspected the cartons.

So, the 10 of us arent really too sure about the paying upfront deal and we politely reject the Haryanvi guys offer. By now hes drunk and losing it, and " Bhen ke lo***, Ra*** ke baccho", and an assorted collection of pleasing words shoot out of his mouth. Within no time, 4 other men(also on moderate amounts of alcohol) show up and "strongly suggest" that we take the deal.

When this happens on a deserted Punjabi highway at 1 in the night, you've no choice but to take the deal. So we took his word that he'll send us a vehicle if the current one breaks down. When we leave, the Haryanvi is really happy that things worked out and apologized for the volley of abuse. So much to the extent that, as our jeep was pulling away, we saw his beating his chest and crying "I'm the Bh******, i'm the Ra*** ka baccha", and plop he falls on the ground and passes out.

Either way, the seven of us were happy enough that we were on our way. Little did we know that our driver was a numbskull, and had never driven highways before. Add to that, he hadnt slept the previous night.

Of course, we were oblivious to all this and went on without concern. At about 2 30 AM in the morning, the two other guys who joined us realize that something is amiss, and check with the driver that he knows the way. He nods, but is far from reassuring.
So, we decide to check with the next truck driver who passes us.

Eureka, we were halfway to Dharamshala instead of Manali. We turned around not knowing what new hurdles the night would throw at us.

We had our answer within minutes. The guy who'd showed up with the cartons had enough. "gaand marao bhosadi walon"(you guys can go to hell-translated clean) he says. He opens his carton, takes a quarter of whisky and downs it.Follows it up with another. Takes another quarter, very elegantly mixes coke and starts sipping on it.

He offers it to Chinmay of all people, who's too shocked to react.

So there we were, the seven of us in the middle of the highway in Punjab, not knowing if we were going the right way, with a numbskull of a driver, and a guy in the vehicle guzzling down every last drop of alcohol he had.


Fortunately, for us night passed within a few hours and the sight of daybreak, where a ring of light enveloping a pitch black star studded sky was breathtaking.

At daybreak, we were famished and desperately wanted to take a leak. So, we stopped by at a dhaba. As expected, our whisky guzzler was passed out. We had amongst us Pulkit, who's a real joker. The problem with him is that he keeps an absolute straight face while fooling around with the chap.

So Pulkit walks up to to the passed out guy, shakes him up, flips him around, pulls his hair, whacks him on head, and then turns around and says, "bhai ye oh tapak gaya". (Dude, I think hes dead).

The rest of us, looked at each other dumbstruck. Someone commented "Raat ko Liver raaste pe gir gaya hoga" (His Liver must have fallen off on the way).

We ran back to the jeep, and shook the guy, slapped him around and he woke up with a startle. "Kaun hai Bh******??". We were relieved and had no words to say.

But Pulkit walked up to him with a kiddish face and says" Uncle breakfast karoge??"(Uncle do you want to have breakfast?).

Of course, we realized that Pulkit was fooling around. But what dint expect is the drunkard to open up another case of whisky and downded it in a typical Hindi movie drukard style saying "Ye hai mera breakfast".(This is my breakfast). "yeh deta hai pushti, tushti aur..." (This gives me strength, intelligence and.....) Before he could finish the sentence,




He passed out. AGAIN.

You know it was one of those situations where you're wondering if sanity around you is breaking down.A supposedly dead guy wakes up, shoots a quarter of whisky and goes down again.

Kasli put his hand on his head in an "I give up manner" and said "Chutiya, subah subah pi raha hai". (The asshole's drinking at 6 30 in the morning).

After our eventful break and a tummy full of hot tea, we were on the road again.


Chandu who likes to be called Azad, was now in front beside the driver. If you want to picture Chandu, think of a tough telengana rebel whom you see on TV.(For those of you who dont know Telengana, google it.)

Azad is this tough hardcore, brash chap who's very very headstrong. Azad was next to Mr. Whisky all night, and couldnt sleep due to intoxicating fumes and an earful of drunk gibberish. So, he'd had enough and demanded a change of seat.

Us folk at the back were really comfortable, so we asked the guys in front to switch with azad who'd been in the middle all night.

Azad had no idea what was coming his way. As mentioned before, our driver had been sleepless the night before ours, and hadnt slept a wink since. Quite clearly, the effects began to show. Azad, was clearly pissing his pants when a big army truck scraped the side of our jeep. He looked at the driver, who was driving with his eyes closed.

Mountain cliff's, Army trucks, random wild animals,India's longest and darkest tunnel, we escaped them all and after 12 hours on the ride of a lifetime, we lived to disembark at Manali.

Now, what happened there is another story, for another post.