THE HOMECOMING

I have often wondered what attracts people to stories on paranormal experiences. Looking back, I remember cozying my self in Granny’s lap, and listening intently as she spun out tales of paranormal experiences she had in her life. Granny came from a village known for its occurrences of paranormal incidents. Not that I believed in everything paranormal that Granny would spin out, but nevertheless, the kick from sheer thrill of “what Next” would keep me glued to her tales. Perhaps this is what we call “Grandma’s Tales”. As I grew up and started studying science, I began to understand that not every thing unexplained is paranormal. Those that science could not explain, remains paranormal as long as we let them remain as such. Sometimes, its better we leave them as such for the sake of adding spice to the monotony of modern living.

The incident I’m presenting here revolves around a person I met during my trip to the Andaman and Nicobar Islands in 2010. We were on the second leg of our tour of the Islands.

After a visit to the North Bay Island and a stint in snorkeling, Seven Star, headed towards Ross Island we had two hours to spend including lunch. After lunch, while most tourists spread out to explore the Indian Navy controlled Island, a handful of tourists like us decided to take it slow and easy. We were rewarded with some wonderful moments in the company of ‘Guide Aunty’ along with the friendly deer, birds and squirrels. We went around dilapidated structures and the water treatment plant, the swimming pool and other facilities built by the British and returned to the jetty rather early. Amongst the people at the jetty were some local vendors waiting to return to Port Blair by another boat. I spotted Kalipada, the Kulfi seller who had sold us some very tasty kulfi during lunch.

I struck a conversation with him as I downed one kulfi after another. Kalipada turned out to be a Bengali and incidentally from the same village my Granny came from. I soon found out how Kalipada reached Port Blair. Kalipada was unemployed youth looking for a job with decent earning. Fed up of the local politics , he wanted to move to a better place where he could breath freely and earn two square meals a day. One day, quietly without telling anyone, he left his family for Port Blair. He worked on the ship to pay for his fare to Port Blair.

I asked Kalipada if he missed his family. “I used to, but now I don’t miss them any more…” he had replied with a sullen look. “Are you married Kalipada?” I prodded a little further. “Yes…” was his short reply. “You have any children?” I asked him. “No..” was his reply again. By this time I had finished the tenth kulfi too. “Your kulfi’s are very tasty” I said to him as I asked him to give me another one. “You left your family in Bengal?” I went on. “Yes I left them there…”he said. The milk from the kulfi was running down my arm. Wiping off the sticky streams of milk I went on “and, you say you don’t miss them… by the way when did you go home last?” “Sir, that was About ten years ago” Kalipada replied. “I had taken a flight to Kolkata” he continued with a twinkle in his eyes. “You must have spent all your savings in the air tickets…” I chided. “That’s ok, what’s there in money… its like water and it will trickle down from the gaps in your fingers…” he said smiling as he pointed to yet another stream of Milk beginning to trickle down my arm. “Like this…” I had laughed with him.

We were beginning to strike a chord and I went on with the tête-à-tête as we waited for our boats to arrive. “Why did you say you don’t miss your family… did your wife desert you for another man?” I asked Kalipada as discreetly as I could. Kalipada just kept silent. It was an indicator that I was invading his privacy. Silently I finished my eleventh Kulfi. The children and my better half had gone back to the Island to see the deer again till the boat came to pick us. “You have any more Kulfi with you Kalipada?” I gingerly asked him for the twelfth kulfi. “My Granny belongs to the same village you are from” I told Kalipada as I took my first bite from the twelfth kulfi. “Oh is that so… which house Sir?” Kalipada had asked me surprised. “The Morols (village headman) daughter she was… they disposed their property long ago before settling in the town” I told him. “Oh yes Sir, my mother used to say, the Morol’s daughters were beautiful.” For the first time I saw Kalipada grin. “Yes, and my Granny was the fairest and the eldest of them…” I said proudly adding “She was in her nineties when she passed away last year… and my great Granny at 110…”. “Sir those were the good old days… people worked hard, lived simple and ate simple and healthy food and they lived long…” said Kalipada. I shook my head in support. “And, how long will I live on your kulfis kalipada..?” I asked kalipada. Both of us broke into another round of laughter. “Kalipada, there was one more thing associated with the village…” I began again. “What Sir…” Kalipada grinned. “I don’t know how true it is, but my Granny used to say, the village was full of ghosts… since you are from the same place, do you think, ghosts really exist…?” I asked Kalipada smiling. Kalipada looked at his watch. “There is still some time before the boats come back” he said as he began telling me about his experience when he had returned home ten long years ago.

Kalipada had found Neelmoni Dey, a friend from his village when he arrived at Port Blair. In fact it was Neelmoni’s flight from home which inspired him to follow suit. Neelmoni was about fifteen years old when he left for Port Blair. Five years later when he had returned home, he had returned as changed Neelmoni. Gone were the Lungi (loincloth) and the Gamcha (towel) and the chappals (slippers). Neelmoni was clad in a bush shirt and pants. He also sported new shoes. He also brought with him, a new saree for his mother and wife. Along with the sarees, he had brought a new bottle of ‘alta’, sindur (Vermilion) and an assortment of colored glass bangels. He had also brought a set of Shirt and pant for his father. But that was in vain, his father had passed away a year ago. Smoking a panama, he had looked like a Gora (Britisher). Kalipada had made up his mind to be one like Neelmoni.

A fortnight later, he ran away with Neelmoni to follow a dream he dreams of even today. He spent the first few months on the Island doing odd jobs. He worked for a while at the Chatam Saw Mill, later at the harbour followed by stints at the market and shops. He was happy with himself but not content. He wanted a stable job and a stable source of income like Neelmoni. One day they met at a restaurant for lunch. After a rather hot tasting lunch, both thought it would be nice to have something sweet and cold. The idea of kulfi emerged there and then. Kulfi or ice-cream at that time was not easy to find in Port Blair. Neelmoni agreed to invest his money and be a partner in the business. Thus Kalipada started his own SOHO business, selling Kulfis in front of the restaurant. As time passed, he tried his luck selling kulfi’s to tourists. He has never looked back since then.

Five years later, Neelmoni and Kalipada, decide to return to their village. This time they thought of taking the flight back home. In about three hours, they had flown to Kolkata. After a quick shopping spree behind Sealdah railway station, they took the galloping train from Sealdah to finally return home. They agreed to meet again the next day as they bade each other goodbye. The station was an hours walk from Kalipada’s house. By the time he had reached home, it was already dark. From the entrance he could see his Saudamini praying in front of the Tulsi plant. “Wash your feet, I have kept the bucket beside the well” Saudamini told him as he entered. “The village urchins must have tipped her off…” Kalipada mused and a shade disappointed that the surprise bubble had burst. putting his bags down he proceeded to the well. After a refreshing bath, Kalipada changed into fresh clothes as he entered the hutment. “In another five years, I’ll change this into a pukka (made of Bricks and cement with corrugated tin roofing) house…” he vowed to himself. Saudamini was waiting for him with a fan in her hands. She had laid out in front of her everything Kalipada was fond of, warm and freshly cooked Bhat (rice) Lau chingri (bottle gourd with prawns), begun bhaja (fried Brinjals), allo potol (Potato Parmal Curry) and rossogollas too.

In the dim light of the hurricane lamp, Saudamini looked more beautiful than ever before. “How are you Mini?” Kalipada asked her softly as he sat for dinner. He felt very hungry. Suddenly he also realized how much he had missed Saudamini. He mixed some potol and alu with rice and offered Saudamini the first morsels before he began to eat. Saudamini looked so wannable as a thin smile crossed her lips as she shyly said “I’m on fast today..”. Saudamini was barely fourteen when he had left her five years ago. He had bade her goodbye from a distance as he left her lying beside his mother, shining like a pearl in the moonlight. “How is Ma (mother)” he asked Saudamini. “She is at Pochas’s house at the other end of the village. They have a religious ceremony tonight. She will be back tomorrow.” Saudamini spoke in her typical sing song voice. “Baba… Where is he…?” Kalipada continued. Saudamini was silent, tears rolled down her cheeks. “He’s in the Sadar Hospital for three months now… Doctors say they don’t have much hope for him… he suffered a stroke.” Saudamini spoke between sobs. “Why did you leave us like that… why did you have to run away like that…” Saudamini had sobbed uncontrollably. Quickly finishing his food, Kalipada waited for Saudamini.

When Kalipada woke up the first rays of the morning sun filtered through the open doorway. He did not know when he had fallen asleep. Saudamini was tending the earthen stove near the kitchen. “Mohan kaka was here sometime ago. He got news from the city that they will bring Baba home this evening… The doctors have said the worst is over and he can go home now.” Kalipada had planned to go to the city by the morning train. Now that they were bringing him back, he would not go anywhere thought Kalipada. After refreshing himself with a cup of hot tea, he got back into the hut to fetch the bag of goodies he had brought from the City for his dear Saudamini. “Mini…” he called out lovingly as he held the makeup kit he bought for her from Kolkata. It contained a blush on, powder compact, a puff, a couple of lipsticks, two bottles of nail polish, two rolls of sleek ribbon, one black and the other red and a pencil eye liner. He remembered how he had haggled with the shop keeper when he had asked for two hundred rupees for the thin pencil like thing. Saudamini was awe struck as he held one thing after another which he had bought for his beautiful wife. He held her hands softly as he struggled to push the colorful bangles on to her arms. “You have learnt nothing about women…” Saudamini had giggled as she put on the bangles one after the other. The reflections of the suns rays from the bangles formed a twinkling silver tiara on her face. “Look, Bindis… they are for you… all of them... you may give Ma one strip…” He said smiling as his Mini sat beside him wide eyed. He had quickly taken one giant bindi off from the strip and applied it on her fore head. Mini had quickly covered her face seeing her reflection on the small mirror on the lid of the make up kit. “This is for you… this one for Ma and these for Baba…” Kalipada had kept saying as he pulled out one packet after the other from his air bag. Finally he pulled Mini into his arms and kissed her on her lips as she freed herself and shied into the hut.

The intimate touch of the female body sent waves of electricity through Kalipada. He had a distinct feeling that he was running fever as Mini felt so cold to the touch. Whatever it was Kalipada felt good. His mother had still not returned and in the hut it was only Mini and him and silence for company. Kalipada knew that once Ma would return he would not get any scope to get out of the house. Then they would bring Baba home, tying him up at home for the next few days. He took a quick bath and left for Neelmoni’s house promising to return home for lunch. Neelmoni lived on the other side of the railway station. Walking down the path he met a few acquaintances, but surprisingly very little beyond formal pleasantries were exchanged. It was around 9:30 am Kalipada reached Neelmoni’s house. Neelmoni’s house was at the farthest end of the village, but that day, something made it look unusual. The unkempt overgrowth of grass and plants around the hut made the place look deserted and haunted. Kalipada pushed the rickety gate and entered the courtyard. There was no sign of any one in the hut. “Neel…, Neel…” Kalipada had called out, but no one answered. Lying in one corner of the courtyard, he could see Neelmoni’s luggage. “So Neel was here, but where is he now… this place looks so untidy as if no one has been living here for ages… Neel boy must have gone to relieve himself…” Kalipada thought as he made himself comfortable on the raised platform in front of the hut.

Kalipada must have been sitting there for about ten minutes thinking where the rest of the family was. Looking at the palm trees in the distance with the white clouds in contrast behind them, he thought they looked beautiful. After a while he heard a faint snore coming from inside the hut. Kalipada peeped inside to find Neelmoni sprawled in one corner of the room softly snoring with his mouth open. A big fat fly sat on the corner of his lips and kept rubbing his two limbs every time they touched his lips as if it were trying to wipe off the dirt from them every time they touched the white grime on the corner of his lips… Kalipada shook Neel awake… Neelmoni seemed to be reeling under some spell. His eyes were blood shot and listless. He did not seem to recognise Kalipada. Neel's body was burning. He had very high fever. “Neel hold on for a moment, I'll get some water... you are running high fever and you need a cold compress...” Kalipada left the room looking for water and a towel. After what seemed to last till eternity, Neelmoni’s temperature seemed to subside. Kalipada asked him to lie still. “why is no one around, tell me what happened to you last night... let me fetch a doctor for you...” Kalipada hastened towards the door. Neelmoni’s feeble voice stopped him at the door. “Wait, friend wait, they have already gone to fetch a doctor...”. “Who are they?” enquired Kalipada. Jhimli and Tarun. Jhimli was Neelmoni's wife and Tarun his brother in law. “Why have they left you alone like this?” Kalpada wanted to know. “No brother, I was not left alone... Jhimli was with me... Tarun left early in the morning to fetch the relatives from the other village where they had shifted after Ma passed away...”. Kalipada stood speechless as Neelmoni continued. “It was when the fever had increased that she had rushed to fetch the doctor... good you came by...” Neels voice was frail. “But, when I left you last evening you were alright buddy... what happened to you that you caught a fever by the morning...?”Kalipada had wanted to know.

“I don't recollect much” said Neelmoni. I remember walking down the path and then just as I was passing below the neem tree, I tripped over a root and fell down... then I reached my home and I was surprised to find it deserted...” Neelmoni continued. “then somebody called “who goes there...”from the darknes out side... a form appeared at the gate. It was Mohan Kaka... Mohan Kaka, its me Neelmoni... where is my family kaka... why is the house deserted?” Neel had aksed Mohan Kaka a village elder who was returning home and had come down to see who had tresspassed into Neels property when he heard movements inside. It was Mohan Kaka who had sent someone to Neelmoni's inlaws village to fetch them. “Alright I'll wait till they come.” Kalipada sat down beside Neelmoni. “Have you had anything since last evening?” Kalipada asked. “Should I get something from your bag?” he continued as he went outside to fetch Neel's belongings. As Kalipada rummaged through Neels bags, he could not find any eatables in them. The jingle of anklets at the gate announced Jhimli. She was carrying a couple of packets, the larger one containing beaten rice (Chidwa) and the smaller one containing medicines. “Maleria it is... the doctor says its there all around...” She stopped midway in her speech as she saw Kalipada in the room. Quickly covering her face with the end of her saree and with a quick hello on her lips, Jhimli vanished into the kitchen.

It was close to 2pm and Mini must be waiting for him, thought Kalipada as he bade his friend good bye. When Kalipada reached home, he found Mili dozing by the doorway. She had fallen asleep waiting for him. Kalipada had promised to have lunch together. Mini had put on the new Saree he had bought for her from Kolkata. He had gone wrong about the ready made blouse. It was a size too big for her. “Hmm, that will need some alteration...” Kalipada thaught as he quietly sat beside her admiring her beauty in her new attire. Though he wanted to caress her, he restrained himself from touching her in order to treat himself to some more moments of the natural beauty. A moment or two later as if driven by instinct, Mini opened her eyes. A smile traced her lips as she shyly asked Kalipada “How long have you been here... why did you not wake me?” “I've been waiting for you all afternoon... the food has also gone cold” she continued as she went into the kitchen. “I was treating my self to some rare beauty so, I did not feel like waking you” Kalipada had replied. “But honey, I want to remain awake as long as you are here, lest I lose you again... promise me you'll never leave me...” Mini's eyes turned into lakes of blue. Kalipada had held Mini's face in his palms and said “Honey, I'll take you with me whereever I go and I'll never leave you alone thats a promise”. Tears had rolled from Mini's eyes and down Kalipadas hands. Also with them the color of the eye liner had streaked down her cheeks. Kalipada quickly rushed inside to fetch a mirror so that Mini could see what had happened. They burst into peels of laughter... Kalipada’s mother had not returned that evening. She had gone to Sadar Hospital with Mohan Kaka to bring Baba home. Someone who had accompanied them had returned to tell them that they would be returning the next day. Kalipada and Mini made the best out of the evening discovering and knowing each other better. Kalipada had always wanted his Mini remain happy and those were some of the best moment he had ever shared with Mini. Little did he know that those would also be the last he would spend with Saudamini.

“Sir, next morning I woke up late as usual... Saudamini was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. The eveing before had turned her from a carefree girl to a complete woman. And her looks were more mature than the last evening. My watch said it was 9 am.. late by all standards..” Kalipada continued with his tale as I began to have my fourteenth Kulfi. Saudamini announced that Baba was due home by the afternoon. Saudamini's Baba had sent a message that since Jamai (son in law) had come home, he would also reach their place by evening. So there was anticipation in the air. A little after mid day Kalipada's Baba came home surrounded by friends and relatives who had gone to fetch him. It looked like a marriage procession minus the band and music. Mini had cleaned the room and laid fresh sheets on the bed where Baba could rest after the tiring journey home. Ma had held Kalipada to her bossom, with tears of joy rolling down her cheeks. We are a complete family now... “Now don't ever leave us to go to some far off place just to earn money... earn less but remain in the village... you don't know how we spent each day worring about you. Your Baba had a stroke worring about you...” she wept as she caressed his face. Kalipada touched her feet. Since Baba was lying on the bed, he had not touched his feet, but baba called him to his side and blessed him. On a corner of the room he found his Mini standing with her father. As Kalipada touched his feet, Saudamini's father told him that it was time to leave and that he would come a couple of days later to take Kalipada and Mini home to spend a couple of days with them. Nitai babu, Kalipada's father in law left soon after seeking Kalipada's Ma's permission to take the couple home to spend some time with them. Kalipada also felt happy that his Ma had granted the permission.

The next day saw more friends and relatives thronging Kalipada's house. This kept the whole family busy and on their toes. The ambiance was nothing less than that of a house where a wedding ceremony was to take place. But, the thought of Neelmoni's illness kept him distracted and Kalipada thought of visiting the village doctor and enquire about his health and if possible take him to Neel's place for a thorough check up. The old doctor looked up in surprise as Kalipada announced himself in. “Sit down my Son...” offered Kalipada a seat beside him... “Tell me when did you return and by the way where have you been all this while?” “This is not done my son, your Baba passed away grieving for you and as luck would have it, your Ma and your Lovely wife too followed suit succumbing to a strange illenss...” Kalipada sat speechless... he was too shocked to hear what the doctor had been saying. “But Doctor babu, that can't be true, I have been with Mini since the last two days. Baba came home yesterday. Ma was with him, so was my father in law and some friends and relatives too... this can't be true...so many people in flesh and bones... oh my God, Doctor babu I hope you are not mistaking me for someone else... see this lipstick stain on my shirt... here these red marks, they are from Mini's lips... I'm sure you are mistaken Doctor Babu...” Kalipada was speechless again as the Doctor continued “Your Baba was admitted to the Sadar Hospital when he suffered a stroke. He was there for about three months. His condition had started to improve and he was discharged, however while returning home he suffered a second stroke which he could not survive...” Saying this he called out “Raakhal, take Kali to his home and show him its ruins...” B...but Doctor Babu I had come to enquire about Neelmoni. “Why, what happened to Neel...?” the doctor had asked. But Kalipada, stopped him in between “Didn't Jhimli come to you for medicines? You had said its Maleria...” Kalipada asked the doctor again. “Yes Jhimli and her brother died of maleria about two years ago. Neel's mother succumbed to the same disease your wife and Ma died of...” “And Mohan Kaka ?” Kalipada heard himself blurt out one name after another... and one name after another, the Doctor announced their demise. Kalipada was shattered, he could not believe what he was hearing.

As Kalipada came back to his senses, he rushed to Neelmoni's house. He had no time to wait for Raakhal. He found the gate open the same way he had left them two days ago. Neelmoni's bags were at the same place he had left them. The gamcha told that Neel was there when he had last met him. Marks of water and just two pairs of footprints on the dusty floor told him that the Neel and Kalipada were the only ones present in the room. Neel was no where to be seen... So they had taken Neel with them. It was like the end of the world for Kalipada. His thoughts raced as proceed homewards. Far in the horizon, in the moonlit landscape he could see the ruins of what used to be his house. “Sir, that night as I approached my home I had decided to accompany Mini when they came for me... I waited all night, but no one came, I lay there waiting for them under the sun, but no one came for me... in the courtyard lay strewn Mini's glass bangles. The contents of the make up kit lay strewn all over the place. While mini's saree was found on the branch of a tree some paces away, the packets containg clothes for Ma and Baba remained in one corner of the ruins.... Raakahal found me a day later, unconcious and severly dehydrated... The doctor told me that it was sheer luck that Raakhal had found me at the nick of time.. I was almost at the point of no return...” I could see tears well up Kalipada's eyes... “Sir you still think I am lucky to be alive....” The sombre mood was broken by the horn of the Seven Star and it was time for me to bid Kalipada good bye.

As we prepared to go our different ways, I asked Kalipada “the soul is something which can not be contained in a particular place, have you ever felt the presence of your Mini around you and in things you do?” “Yes Sir, I feel her around me and when she is around, my kulfi's taste the best...” Kalipada eyes glittered as he smiled... “Keep this smile on your face, Mini will be happy... next time you meet her, tell her I loved her kulfis... also tell her I have my roots from the same village, so in a way I am her brother in law” I fished out a 500 Rupees note and handed it to Kalipada for the 20 odd kulfis I had taken from him. He would not accept the money... “No Sir, how can I take any money from the Morols family...” he kept saying... “Ok then this is from a friend...” and I thrust the note into his pocket. Kalipada was visibly moved as our boat proceed to our next destination...

Viper Island.

K9

K9

It was past 2:30pm when we checked in at the HP PWD Rest House at Naina Devi. We, my daughter and I, were hungry and worn out after being on the roads for over ten hours. All we wanted badly was some rest. We hit the bed immediately after having a hurriedly arranged lunch by the caretaker.

It was the chill in the room accompanied by the howl of winds that pulled me out of my slumber. I looked at the watch. It was just 5pm. My daughter lay on the bed, fast asleep, with her tab still in her hand the way she had dozed off. I looked out of the window. Though it was fading, there was still enough light to let me have a glimpse of the hills that surrounded us. The leaves on the trees just outside the window were rustling wildly as if a blizzard was raging outside. The weather can be unpredictable in the hills. I had had similar experience, once at Kufri and again at Kasauli, when a simple calm breeze turned into strong winds in moments enough to make our bones shiver. Anticipating the same, this time we came prepared. I pulled out the sweat shirts from our travel bag and woke up my daughter. We had a job to do... capture the setting sun

Mesmerising Sunset over Anandpur Sahib

Just as we opened the door to the long verandah over looking Anandpur Sahib at a distance below us we were taken aback by the K9 sprawled right in front of the door. A steady gaze trained through his half opened eyes sent a shiver down my spine. Since we have a dog back at home, we are not really the kind of people who can get scared by doggy stares, but some how this was not the normal kind. “Ohhyeeee.... that's scary....” my daughter sighed behind me as she expressed what I was feeling inside. The K9 excused himself even before we got a chance to shoo it away. I kept watching him till he disappeared in the darkness at the far end of the verandah where the staircase was. As he went round the corner, he looked up again... strange gaze still written over his eyes but this time as if beckoning us. We chose to ignore him and carried on capturing the by bye moments.

K9

In the fading light we found K9 behind the Kitchen gazing into the void that lay in front of him. While my daughter stayed behind, I gingerly tiptoed behind K9 to be rewarded with a spectacular view of the surroundings. Since the light was bad and the winds were getting worse and we had nothing else to do, we thought of a quick walk to the market at bus stand and buy ourselves a few tid bids for dinner. K9 followed us to the gates at the perimeter of the Rest House. That was the last time we came across K9 that evening.

The Valleys below looked so beautiful in the fading light

On our way to the Bus Stand, we passed by a joint named Fun Bite that offered Pizzas and burgers. We were looking for instant noodles that evening so instead of stopping by we went ahead looking for a provision store that stocked instant noodles in cups, but all we could find there were novelty items, Aam Papad (Thick Mango Jelly) and items to perform religious ceremonies. There were two or three shops selling Samosa's (Vegetable in a wrap shaped like a pyramid fried and eaten hot) which were cold and freshly fried Chholey Bhaturec(kind of large hand beaten Indian bread fried in oil). We bought a slab of Mango jelly and two plates of Chholey Bhature before finding our way back to our Rest Hose. We were expecting K9 to be waiting for us but he wasn't there.

The road to the bus stand.

Since we were still reeling from the long drive earlier in the day, we decided to have an early dinner and call it a day. The Bhatures were tasty but we found the Chholey (Baked Bengal Gram) to be swimming in a pool of cold vegetable oil, enough to salvage it for a weeks cooking if we went by our urban culinary standards. With a silent apology we trashed the Chholey and had the Bhatures as a roll with the Mango jelly as the filling. Probably Pizzas with coffee at Fun Bite would have been a better option. I made a mental note to make it to Fun Bite for the next day's Brunch before putting out the lights. Though the winds still blew hard and the leaves rustled constantly, sleep wasn't really difficult to come.

Fun Bite's Live Open Kitchen on a top sliced limousine

We woke up early next morning just in time for the sunrise beyond the hill from our windows. The haze around didn't make it a spectacular happening, but nevertheless it was a treat for the eyes. The winds had stopped and we got ready for a 1500 meters trek to the Shrine on the hill top. We found K9 sprawled at the same place we found him the previous evening right in front of the door. Like during the previous evening, he had read our minds, he trotted off even before we could utter a word. He followed us till the gates as we made for the Shrine. “So is the limits of his territory...” I told my daughter as we proceeded towards the Shrine. When we returned to the Rest house about three hours later, we found K9 waiting for us at the gate. He was clearly excited when he saw us. There were a few other dogs around and K9 promptly barked and chased them away... Clearly, he did not want them to be around. K9 expressed his pleasure in seeing us back by brushing his nose and head against our trousers and looking up at us with a strange affectionate gaze. By now my daughter had also begun to sense that something was unusual with K9 and she managed to click a few photographs of K9 and his ways.

K9 was pleased to see us back...

“He knows we have prasad from him...” said my daughter as K9 led the way for us to the Rest House. We stopped for a while to fetch something out of our bag for K9, but he went away without even looking back at us or responding to our calls. We found that rather strange and went back to our room. We had had a brunch out of double cheeze pizzas washed with tumblers of cold coffee at Fun Bite so we skipped lunch at the Rest House. Since there was no winds, and nothing else to do we played badminton till about 2:30pm in the empty parking lot of the rest house with our car in the center doubling up as the net. The heavy brunch was taking its toll on us by making us feel drowsy and we decided to take a power nap before doing what we had in our minds... exploring the hill.

It was 4 pm when we woke up from our 'power nap'. Once again K9 was there at our door waiting for us. This time again, K9 seemed to know what we had in our minds. Earlier in the day we had found out that a cable car service to the Shrine existed from another side of the hill. The place where we could board the cable car was about 3km down hill. The caretaker had discouraged us from going there on foot since it would mean a long walk. What he did not know was that we were indeed looking for a long walk so that we could explore the nearby areas and use the opportunity to get closer to the natural beauty of the place.

Armed with our digitals, we stepped out of our rooms. K9 seemed to know of our plans, and kept darting ahead of us as if to guide us to our destination. He seemed to know what we were out for... Like a person who knew all about our itenery and the place, he leapt and darted ahead of us in the direction we were supposed to be moving. Now and then he would stop and crane over hillsides looking vacantly at the space ahead of him. Initially I ignored him and thought he would return to the Rest House as soon as he would near the periphery of his territory. I was wrong. He kept moving till he reached the final bend just before reaching Naina Devi and stood by the kerb stone sometimes watching ahead of him and sometimes gazing at us as if to say “come hither to my World, oh wanderer of the roads...” Sure enough, he had unfurled before us yet another breathtaking view of the valleys below...

K9 would stop at vantage points that offered beautiful views

Breathtaking Views of the hill roads. Note the shadow cast on the valley by the hill we were on..

The ritual of darting ahead and waiting at vantage points continued so religiously that soon we gave up searching for the vantage points. We simply walked to spots K9e would lead us to. K9 had transformed himself into a guide. At one point K9 scrambled up a rock sat there and waited for us to catch up. The rock looked mundane from where we were coming, but once I climbed it, I knew why he had been waiting for us there. The rock actually overhung a steep drop hundreds of feet below and standing at the point K9 had sat and waited for us, has so far been the most exhilarating experience of my life... it was like being on the last point on the World. But, how dangerously I was perched could be gauged only after a biker devotee stopped his bike and screaming on top of his voice persuaded me to climb down because it was very dangerous. Later when we were moving again and saw the rock from where the biker had seen me, it looked terrifying indeed. K9 not only took us to spots where others wouldn't dare to go, but also took us places where we could click the natural beauty of of the flora around.

K9 would wait till we were over with our clicks. K9 would not budge till my daughter clicked the flowers on the mountain side from where he would show them to us

Flowers from K9's point of view. Click from a spot K9 led us to... Here I've tried to capture the flowers from approximately the same angle and height of K9... Looks carefree and beautiful...

K9 took us to spots where others would not dare to go... (yours sincerely clicked by my daughter)

By now, we were quite far from the Rest House, yet K9 refused leave us.. With a determined rock steady blood shot gaze he kept staring at us every time we pointed towards where we had come from and tried to shoo him away made him appear as if he was possessed. “Papa, what will happen when we leave tomorrow...? Do you think K9 will follow us.... or... what if we take him with us....?” “The way he is sticking with us, he won't mind going with us....” I had replied jokingly to my daughter.

K9 Refused to leave us...

It was close to 4 pm when K9 led us to the base point of the cable car. We had planned to ride the cable car to the Shrine and walk back to the Rest House from there, but with K9 sticking with us, we were in a dilemma. Other dogs from the area were already barking at him. It was beyond any doubts that K9 had come too far from his territory and going back all alone would not be easy for him. To go on with our plans meant ditching K9. A localite who had been watching us told us to carry on and not worry about the dog... Half heartedly we bought ourselves a one way ticket to the Shrine. All the while as we rode up, in a part of our mind, we kept thinking about K9, wondering if he would really go back when he finds that we will not return, wondering if the other dogs would torment him, wondering if K9 would at all be waiting for us at the base... wondering if K9 would find some one to accompany him back... wondering what if he did not find any one to accompany him back... wondering if it was ethical to ditch some one, who guided us like a guardian angel to this ride... The thought of the trauma K9 would be going through due to apparent losing of a friend was overwhelming for us. By the time we had reached the top, we were decided that we would ride back to the base and that the sooner the best.

A view from the Rope way to Naina Devi Temple.

We were back to the base about an hour later. At the base we found K9, confusedly looking for us behind the parked vehicles wondering where we could have vanished. He came running in leaps and bounds the moment we called him.... well, by no particular name just a simple “aajaa” (come on). Even a nerd would read the excitement and happiness written all over his face as he rubbed his head on my legs as if trying to thank me for our reappearance. Since it was getting late and the lights were fading, he headed straight for the Rest House. K9 once again led the way for us, but this time with out pausing to show us vantage points. There was an urgency in his strides. And, why not, the lights were fading. On the way back, we stopped at a provision store to buy some biscuits for K9. Strangely, he seemed to know the biscuits were for him. We walked back to the Rest House and K9 would sprint ahead and then return back to us for his biscuit. He would dangerously charge at vehicles climbing to the shrine, which he thought drove too close to us, as if he had been sent to protect us at all costs. At one point when the biscuits had finished and we were nearing the final bend to the Rest House, K9 surged ahead and vanished around the bend leaving us alone on the slope. “Vishwasghat (Traitor) now that he has come back to known grounds he has deserted us...” I had chided with my daughter. We were wrong. K9 was now playing hide n seek with us. Just around the bend he sat waiting for us behind a kerb stone looking at us with a mocking smile, as if it was a tit for tat for the vanishing trick we played with him at the base of the Cable Car ride. He sprinted back to us as soon as he saw us.

The bend around which K9 played Hide n Seek with us

It was about 6pm when we returned to the Guest House. The caretaker was watching us from the kitchen. With a beaming smile on his face he told us “Lucky seems to like the two of you....” Nodding, I asked him if we could have some tea. For the first time since we had been around with K9 we got to know his real name. Between sips of tea, we recounted our experience to the caretaker. The caretaker looked at us in disbelief. The fact that K9 showed us the way to the Cable Car base took him by real surprise. With rounded eyes, he kept saying, “But..... Sir, he has never been round the bend in his life leave aside being to the Cable Car base.... how could he take you there... He has never ever gone that far...?” When we told him about the vantage spots he had taken us around the hill us like a guide, he simply couldn't believe what he was hearing. “ The caretaker looked a shade paler than before as he mumbled inaudibly. When I insisted in knowing what he was mumbling, he just said “ No, no, nothing in particular... strange it may sound, but lucky is rather shy with strangers, he has has never been as friendly with strangers as he has been with you...” before excusing himself.

We walked up to our room and from the verandah, in the dim light of the portico, we could see see K9 resting. We had a half finished packet of biscuits in our room and my daughter asked me if she could feed K9. I did not think would be hungry after the couple of packs of glucose biscuits he had devoured on the way back, so, I told my daughter she could give it a try. By the time my daughter came out to feed K9, a small child, a local-ite, was trying to feed K9 biscuits. K9 did not seem to be interested in what the child was offering, but, to our utter surprise, he promptly devoured the biscuits that only my daughter offered. I heard my daughter whisper to me “Papa do you think that was Bonnie inside K9?” as K9 gulped down the last of the biscuits. K9 glanced at us rather sheepishly, then slowly got to his feet and vanished into the darkness behind the kitchen... “I can't say...” I said in silence more to my self than to answer my daughter. Bonnie was our little Spitz who had left us devastated 23 months ago...

It was our last night at Naina Devi and we had promised the caretaker that we would have dinner at the dining hall. After a sumptuous dinner, we strolled around the Rest House and even played badminton for some time in the hope we would meet K9 once again. My daughter kept asking me about what K9 would do when he would not see us the next day or how K9 would react when he would see us leaving. Similar thoughts were running my my mind too. In the short time we had been with K9, a strange bond had taken growth. The K9 whose looks had sent shivers down our spines on the first day had transformed like a reunion of long lost friends. I was fighting the war inside me as much as my daughter was fighting it inside her about how K9 would miss us or how it would be the other way round when we would leave the next day... I don't feel ashamed saying we were getting rather too emotional. Probably K9 could feel our feelings too. He did not come back to us that evening.

Later, when we went to sleep, there was absolute silence all around. The winds were no longer howling. The leaves were not rustling any more like they had the previous night. Gazing up at the dark wooden ceiling in absolute silence, I had lost count of time and I don't remember when sleep had overwhelmed me. We woke up early and started packing. With the break of dawn, I quickly opened the door of our room to see if K9 was there. He wasn't there, but, a patch of loose dust, like a doormat in front of a door, said he had been there. We were ready in about an hour. Though we were slightly behind schedule, we didn't really mind the time it took for the check out formalities. We had frantically hoped we would mee

t K9 one last time before we left. K9 never showed up. Probably he knew that the last goodbye would be hard for all of us...

Just as we were about to get into our vehicle and drive out, my daughter suddenly pointed towards the gate and said me “ Papa, probably K9 should be there hiding...” I looked hard in the direction she had pointed. K9 was not to there, but as I moved my vision a little more upwards towards the Shrine for one last time an unusually wonderful sight greeted me me. The clouds formation above the shrine looked as if they were spread out showering blessings.

The clouds formation above the shrine looked as if they were spread out to shower blessings.

It is hard to say if it was telepathy or pure animal instincts or was it crossing of the thresholds of conventional senses that K9 and we had begun understand each other, or if it was purely the paranormal that brought K9 so close to us. No matter how much we may try to reason, it still baffles me how K9 knew about where we were headed to on that fateful evening and how he knew that we were indeed looking for some breath taking clicks that he led us to those vantage points.

This was my second visit to Naina Devi. I have written earlier about the strange incident that my friends and I had experienced during my earlier visit to this place. I find it difficult to entirely write off the present experience that my daughter and I experienced as purely coincidental. I guess I've to come back to this place again... there are many questions in the mind which still remain unanswered...

Sunaabh  Sarkar (Mistral) Naina Devi... 23.03.2013.

A Lot Can Happen Over A Cup Of Coffee

A Lot Can Happen Over A Cup Of Coffee


I had never imagined how a casual mention "...Chal Manali ghum aatein hain..." over a cup of coffee, could spark off An impromptu trip. But, then thats how we were. The trip made with a few college friends covering, Manikaran, Kullu, Manali, Rohtang Pass, Bhakra Nagal Dam, via Chandigarh, almost 3 decades ago, has remained in my memories for many reasons.

We were just out of College. At that time Punjab was going through turmoil just after operation Blue Star so our families were not too keen to let us make the trip. However, we went on. First we were stopped at Chandigarh and were asked to produce our papers. We learnt our first touring lesson here. Don’t drink and drive and always carry your IDs when ever you travel. Since the trip was alike a stag party, Booze literally flowed in the Matador and guys on board were high on booze.

The driver and I were the only two odd teetotalers, leaving me to do the talking as the rest of the gang held tightly on to their horses struggling to resisted speaking their minds out to the inquisitive cops. Fortunately, I was already working and my ID papers and a small ‘chai paani’ saved the day. We moved on snaking our way via breathtaking picturesque Bilaspur heights towards Manali via Manikaran. We were driving all day and wanted to do the undoable… reach Manikaran the same evening. I was on the front seat with our Nepali driver with my eyes glued to the darkness ahead. Form the corner of my eyes I thought I saw the drivers head loll forward for a very brief moment. I thought I was wrong. A few moments later the head lolled again, this time I was sure I saw it happen. In the beam of the Matador, I saw white curb stones lined across the mountain road rush towards the Matador. A split second reflex had me yank on the steering to move away from the stones in the nick of time. I asked Raju what the matter was… “ Oh, nothing I was just seeing the road ahead was all he could mumble apologetically…”. This was the first and last time I had ever seen anyone trying to see what lay beyond the white curb stones while on the wheels. Neither do I envy anyone trying it out either.

Though it was not my idea to drive all through the night, I felt guilty on part of the group for pushing him through the night. We stopped and made Raju lie down and rest for some time before we resumed our journey.  Thus I learnt the next lesson on traveling: Never to push beyond your physical endurance when ever driving (Particularly on the hills). This trip however remains memorable for other reasons than these incidents.

We were over with our original itenery Manikaran, Manali, Kullu, we were returning to Chandigarh via Bhakra Dam when suddenly one of our friends proposed to include Shimla on our return leg. Like a bunch of brats just out of school, "Shimla, Shimla, Shimla…" rented the air in the van. Those of us who were working sprang up in decline since we had jobs to return to. A debate ensued and at the end of it, since it was an easy detour without upsetting the schedule  too much, Naina Devi was included in place of Shimla.

We had been driving all day and were still on the hills this time heading for Naina Devi and enlightened from our earlier experience, we thought it would be wise to take a break and a quick dinner. Though it was barely 7 pm, darkness had engulfed the hill side and we halted at the first Dhaba that came our way. The guys were packing up and were almost leaving. Strangely, they didn’t need any persuasion to prepare a dinner of daal (Lentil) and chawal (Rice) for us. Dinner was cooked as we stretched on the charpoys [cots] at the Dhaba. A few trucks passed by but none stopped by. Before long dinner was ready and served on clean fresh ceramic plates with unusually large portions of rice. As we helped ourselves to the delicious daal chawal, one of us, I don’t remember who it was, remarked “itna chawal”… so much rice... The Dhaba owner read the remark as “only this much rice..” and he served us some more. A person suddenly appeared from the darkness carrying a jar in his hands… “Sahab achar le lo...” (Sir have some pickles please…) and he served a couple of spoons of mango pickles to each one of us… Those were the tastiest Mango pickles I have ever tasted… I still can’t forget the taste.

Over with the dinner we paid the owner two rupees each for one of the best suppers of my life. We left for the remaining leg to Naina Devi. Barely two minutes later, a boy suddenly remembered he had left behind his new sports shoes at the Dhaba. Cursing and poking jokes at him were returned to the Dhaba. This time the place was absolutely deserted… but there was something eerie about the place. Our friend who had disembarked suddenly cried out to us. We rushed down to find out what had gone wrong. Probably a dog must have been chewing on one of the shoes, we were thinking.
We found our friend pointing towards the hearth. In the moonlight, we could clearly see the currency notes we had paid for the dinner strewn about the hearth and the hearth was stone cold. No plates around, no jar of pickle… absolutely nothing was there to prove that barely five minutes ago we had dinner cooked and eaten at this place. I thought I saw the driver shiver as he asked the guy to leave the currency notes as they were, when he had moved to collect them. We were out of our wits and didn’t know how to react. The driver hastily made for the Matador. We followed him and reached Naina Devi in silence at around midnight.

We’ve been to many other trips, and, the topic has been discussed many times over trying to guess, who fed us at the dhaba that fateful night. Being science graduates, we tried our best to explain the unexplainable. One of us even went to the extent scientifically supporting the  saying that strangely, though every one had eaten to his capacity, no one had the nature calling in the next morning. That was indeed a truth. We were all quiet probably pondering over what he claimed and were accepting the fact that even though accepting paranormal was simply far fetched, yet nothing else was more convincing.

Probably, a lot can happen over a cup of coffee.

The Midnight Rendezvous

A cousin from Ahmadabad had dropped in, after a very long time. We were sharing our memoirs and travel experiences and soon, our tete-a-tete wound itself around , perhaps one of the most sought after travel topics, ... about the paranormal experiences of road rangers.

Not all Bengal Villages are well connected. While some have metaled roads others still need to be traversed by foot

Actually I had been to Kolkata some time back and was recounting to my cousin a very recent experience by my maternal uncle. My maternal uncle, Mamaji, is a medic by profession, and a truly down to earth charitable person with a passion to go and reach out to masses in the remotest of villages in Bengal. His other passion is to fix up and run what others think is dead and thing of the past and not worth a thought be it a human being or an object from the material World. It is this fire in the heart that has seen him fix up two vehicles, a M-800 and an old Amby which satisfy his third passion; of traveling, in the form of numerous trips to the distant Bengal villages.

It was during the summer vacations I had a chance to ride the Amby when he had come to receive us at Sealdah Station. When the 8 of us including the driver had reached our destination a good 60 km from Kolkata, a beaming Mamaji asked me how I felt about the ride and the car. Frankly, all the while as I sat on the front seat of the car during the ride from Kolkata, I had this uncanny feeling that the AC was running outside the car instead of inside. I didn't have the heart or courage to tell Mamaji that the AC evaporator and the condenser were perhaps not in the places they were ought to be. I confess, I smiled and lied... and lied.

Most of Mamaji's experiences is woven around this old Amby. By the time I had heard enough of Mamaji's tales, I had this feeling that I wouldn't be surprised if one fine day, the old Amby vanished into thin air, not in the Bermuda or Golden Triangle, but in some unheard of desolate Bengal hamlet.

It was a moonless humid monsoon night. Mamaji was returning from Udaynarainpur a remote village in West Bengal. Naresh his driver was uttering something. Leaving behind the chain of thoughts he was deeply engrossed in, Mamaji instinctively looked at the the old faithful HMT, on his wrist. The needles showed it was close to 2am. “Sair aapnio ki kisu suntae parsen...?” (Sir ar you also hearing something?) Naresh asked again. There were sounds of bell tinkling all around. Staring out into the pitch darkness Mamaji was trying to gather where they were going through. It was Naresh once again announcing their location. They were still a couple of hours away from home.

Serene country side roads weaving through dense forests and vegetation can be frightening to travel on at night

The tinkling of bells was getting louder and louder as they approached a nearby village. A couple of minutes later Naresh brought the car to a halt. In front of them blocking the narrow carraigeway was a broken down truck. A man reeking with the smell of alcohol, approached them and demanded where they were heading for. Naresh had standing instructions not to give or offer lifts or talk to strangers so he kept quiet while Mamaji did the talking. Mamaji rolled down the window and told him who he was and where he had to go. “Yes, yes I know... arn't you dagdar (Doctor) babu, I've heard about you, but Sir this truck won't move it has a broken axle. You roll your car down the slope of the carrageway and you will find a path leading to the old Kali Mandir, follow the path around the Kali Mandir and you will find the path meeting this highway...” saying this he jumped down to the pathway beckoning Mamaji. Naresh slowly eased the car down the slope and proceeded as directed by the man.

Soon they could see the Kali Temple in the beam from the car. The sounds of ringing bells had also increased and Mamaji was convinced they were coming from the Temple. But something seemed odd. The temple was closed and not a single soul was to be seen. Then who were ringing the bells? “kire Naresh Ki hochhe aei shob...” (Hey Naresh what do you think is happening...?) Mamaji heard himself asking Naresh. They were passing by the temple and the sounds of the bells were deafening. Naresh without stopping the car sped on towards the highway. As they approached the highway the sound receded then completely stopped. Both Mamaji and Naresh were drenched in perspiration. Naresh was now speeding on the highway. Suddenly the car screeched to a halt. In front of them stood a white goat right in the middle of the highway. It sprinted away from them in the direction of the beam from the car and as it moved away, it seemed to morph itself to a cow and then to a villager draped in whites. They could hear in the silence of the night a male voice muttering “Jaa aei jatrae benchegeli... jaa bari ja shigiri...” (Go you have just been saved this time... go, go home quickly...), saying this the form vanished into thin air. With a start Mamaji looked out of the window, hoping to find the speaker of those words, but there was no one to be seen.

Dilapidated structures like the ones show ar not uncommon in Bengal villages and the village folk believe they come alive in the middle of the night.

Due to the sudden application of brakes, the car had stalled. Naresh, after putting it in neutral gear, switched off the headlights and twisted the ignition key to start the engine. Nothing happened. They were stalled in the middle of nowhere. Naresh tried his best to revive the old braveheart but it would not oblige. Far behind them they could hear the approach of a vehicle. Tension was beginning to build up and Mamaji alighted from the car to help Naresh move it away from the middle of the road. As they were heaving and pushing a vehicle stopped behind them. It was a truck. Mamaji went up to the driver and requested the driver if he would tow them to the nearest service garage. The driver readily obliged. The three some along with the cleaner of the truck pushed Mamaji's car aside to make way for the truck. A little later they were on the move again, This time Mamaji's in his Amby towed by the truck.

Mamaji was again looking at his watch, it was close to 3:30 am and in the horizon he could now make out the silhouette of known landmarks which fell on the way. “Naresh isn't there a garage about a kilometer down this place....?” Mamaji had barely spoken these words, the car suddenly came back to life. The headlights were shining brightly and in the Beam Mamaji could clearly see the back of the truck, which was now moving away from them. The registration plate of the truck and the brightly painted scenery on back panels of the truck. They were the same ones they had seen some time ago on the truck with the broken axle standing in the middle of the road. Neither Mamaji nor Naresh, realised when the rope connecting the truck to the car had come off.

Naresh stepped on the gas pedal to catch up with the truck which had by this time disappeared. They drove on along the straight highway at various speeds, but the truck could not be traced. Some months later, Mamaji while traveling on the same highway, but, this time in broad daylight, stopped by the village temple and had tried to talk to the locals. No one was willing talk on the issue, instead every one he tried to talk simply said no one goes near the temple after sunset.

Mamaji is unmoved and he still goes to far flung places to offer free medical services and still has to travel during unearthly hours. Though a little shaken from the incedent, Naresh still drives Mamaji to places. Mamaji however believes, that on the fateful day, Naresh and he were steered away from some disaster by friendly spirits.

Note :
Pictures used in this blog have been clicked in Bengal country side and villages and have been used to represent the kind of Country side and Terrain my Mamaji traverses to treat patients and are not directly related to the places mentioned in the Blog. Any similarities in the locations mentioned in the blog to the pictures is purely coincidental.

Out in The Hills on a Moonless Night....

A Short Story based on real life experience in the hills

Its not easy to get lost in the hills. Motoring on hill roads has some advantages over driving in the plains. Unlike the roads in the plains, which often go haywire with a turn here and a turn there, most hill roads with towering rocks on one side and abyss on the other, will simply go on and on with very few branches till it ends at some place making it not really easy to get lost on a hill road. No, not really, that statement was perhaps a little exaggerated, sometimes its easy to get lost on a hill road too as I learnt it during a trip to Kasauli. 

  

Kasauli wasn’t really in our itenery when we visited Chandigarh. Neither was Chandigarh. We needed a break and we just drove out... very much like the way you see in those "Lets Go..." Maruti ads on TV. This was perhaps one of the most unplanned trips we have ever had.

Two days into the trip, and we had had enough of Corbusier’s Chandigarh and Nek Chands magic with building and industrial wastes. Even the picnic ambiance of Sukhna Lake was slowly weaning off as it began resembling Suraj Kund Mela. We had had enough of Panchkula and Mohali. Zakir Rose Garden had already given way to a pleasant wet Pinjaur.  ‘Yeh Dil maange more…’ "Gimme more..." was all I could hear from the heart as we went through a sumptuous dinner at the CPWD Guest House.

Poring over some travel literature, Kasauli emerged as the nearest quiet off beat promised getaway we were in search of. Gathering all the stuff we had strewn around the room we packed up for our next destination. The night seemed to last till eternity. I don’t remember when I had dosed off watching the soft blue lit aircon display.

Early next morning we were heading for Kasauli. We halted just after Pinjaur for a some tea and coffee. The weather was pleasantly cool and the Sun was peeking through the clouds behind the hills ahead. After some biscuits and coffee, I didn’t have tea, we moved ahead. Soon we reached the toll booth at Kalka. A guy donning a police man’s uniform but looking half like one thrust a slip “Toll tax…” He was about to say something more when my wife thrust her I Card at him “PWD STAFF…” she snapped with authority at him. With a ‘salam memsaab’ he waved us through. The barrier bar sprang up as he bellowed P W D to his colleague at the barrier gate and we proceeded ahead….

After we had negotiated a few bends up the hill a sudden cry “Papa look an aeroplane…” “That’s not a plane stupid, it’s a trolley…” made me slow down as the two girls behind us got into an argument… Err… two girls did I say? Well, sorry to stop and interrupt your reading pleasure… all this while I have been mentioning “we” but I had forgotten to mention that my better half and my two daughters aged 4 and 7 constitute the WE.

Over with the intro, I’ll proceed now with my story with more indulgence. The children were awe stricken by the cable car dangling between the two hillocks as it moved slowly towards us. The debate about the plane and a trolley continued for some more time till both girls dosed off. Tunnels on our left and breath taking views on our right kept beckoning us as if saying, “…where have you been wandering O wanderer of the plains, come hither, welcome to my paradise …”. As the freshness of the hills began to fill and refresh our lungs, a destination board indicating the direction towards Dharampur, reminded us we were not destined for Shimla but Kasauli. We slowed down and turned left and headed towards Kasauli. Driving up to Kasauli via Dharampur was a memorable experience. The Hanuman temple atop Mankey Point kept beckoning us till we finally reached the HPPWD Guest House just on the right off the main road. Since we had no bookings, so we had to wait till the officer in-charge arrived at 9:30 am. Finally a room was allotted to us and thus we began to unwind.

 

Most of you must be wondering, so where did we get lost? So far everything is right on track and in control. After a refreshing and a delicious breakfast, we proceeded to spend the rest of the day exploring the Church, the Mall, the Upper Bazaar and the Lower Bazaar. We had lunch at the Wet Canteen at the Mall. Post lunch followed by a relaxing walk past the Children’s park, the Anti Rabies Drug Research Center the Doordarshan TV Transmission Tower, Khushwant Singh’s summer retreat, the Gymkhana Club, we walked down the steps past the Judiciary, and the Army Hospital, to catch a shortcut to the guest house. We were tired and no sooner did we reach the guest house, we hit the bed. When I opened my eyes, all the lights were on. I looked at my watch. It showed it was past 2 am. I preferred slumping back into my pillow than to get up and switch off the lights.

The following day was less hectic. We had only Mankey Point in our itenery. Incidentally it was my better half’s birthday too. We preferred trekking up the hill than to drive up to the point. There was nothing to hurry at all. The trek was a blessing in disguise, we had ample taste of the changes of weather in the hills. The experience, was just thrilling and out of the world… now drizzling, now pouring and then the very next moment filled with bright sunshine. My younger daughter accompanied me and together we had some very wonderful moments to cherish for a long time. We planned at length what we would do that evening to surprise my wife. Our tête-à-tête touched everything from gift, cake and a small party. I confided with her that I had seen a lovely dress for her Mom the earlier evening and I would go and buy it in the evening on the pretext of going for a walk. Excitement was high in the air as we reached Mankey point.

We returned to the Guest House after having lunch at the same wet canteen and decided to stay indoors for the rest of the evening. At about 4:30 pm, I announced I needed to go for a walk. From the corner of my eyes I could see the glint of excitement in my daughter’s eyes. Braving the cramps in my thighs after the morning's trek, I gingerly left the guest house for the market. I had noticed a road running right in front of the guest house and I wanted to see if it led to another short cut to the market.

Well, so far I’ve never been to a place where I have ever got lost. There was something in me connected to "geographia" that has always showed me out of situations when navigation was a question. My late father had recognized this quality in me quite early in my life and would have me on the front seat beside him as his trusted navigator during the numerous African Bush Safaris.

I allowed my self the confidence in those words, and started following the road, with an eye for an elusive flight of steps which would take me to the lower market high up on the rocks on left hand side. On the right side, separated by a deep abyss was a picturesque hill side complete with snaking roads to Dharampur. A man in a heavy over coat went past me. “Bhai Sahab is raste se lower market ja sakte hain kya?” “Brother is there a way to the lower market down this road” I called out after him. “What’s the time…?” were the only words he uttered as he half turned his head and with a flurry of his hands he first pointed down wards in the direction of the road and then upward. “Hmm... so there exists a short cut” I said to myself as I started following man.

The walk brought back memories of my childhood days in Shillong. My dad had taught me how to walk along the hill side as he used to take me to my school located somewhere up hill near his office. “Always walk on the side of the road which is away from the hill… this way the driver of any vehicle will be able to see you… If you walk on the other side the driver may not be able to see you at the bend… see the sides of the hill away from the rocks are not so steep, if required you can also slide down to save your self… you’ll certainly find something to clutch on even if you slip for a while and sliding down is easier than climbing up a rock to save your self…” he would say. Engrossed in my thoughts and the beauty of the hills, I didn’t realize I had been walking for almost fifteen minutes.

The man was walking about fifteen or twenty paces ahead of me. It was already getting dark and I was not half way through my errand. “Pauri Zyada door hai kya?” “Are the steps to the market far?” I called out behind him. “Nahi paas hi hai” "No its neer.." he replied without turning. “It gets dark pretty soon in the hills…” I tried to strike a conversation as I increased my pace to match his. But he was amazingly fast, I was finding it increasingly difficult to catch up with him… “Hmm… buddy, it’s not the hills… listen to your body, go in for somefola low cholesterol oil…” I chided to myself giving up my effort to catch up with him.

A little ahead I could see a flight of stairs on the hill side. Far above me I could see the lights of the Lower market. They looked smaller and tinier than they looked from where I had started. I realised had walked down hill away from the market and now I had a mammoth task climbing up to the market.  I quietly cursed the guy in the over coat and murmured my self an expletive. On reaching the steps I called out again… “Yehi upar ka rasta hai kya?” “Is this the way to the top?” . “Nahin... upar jaane ka rasta aur aagey hain” “ No... the way up is still ahead” he replied without stopping.

But I stopped. It was quite dark now. The sun had set. I had been walking for about forty minutes and I was still in square one, way away from the market. My flight upstairs for the market had to be now or never. Even if I started climbing now without stopping for breath, I would perhaps reach the top just in time before the shops closed. Ignoring the man, and, without another thought, I started climbing. I cursed myself as I found the steps lead to a home. A man was looking at me questioningly. I gathered all my wits and said ‘Sarkari mulazim… is jagah mein naya hoon… aaj hi aya hoon… mujhe Lower Bazaar jaana hai… yahan se rasta hai kya?” “I’m a Govt official… and new to the place… just came in today… I need to go to the Lower Bazaar… is there a way to the Bazaar from here?” I asked him in desperation. “Haan haan, aap pichwarese nikal jao… thora upar chalke Rajesh ka ghar ayega… sidhe haath ko jo pauri hai whoh seedaha market hi jata hai… Kis department mein ho?” “Yes, yes, the back door leads to Rajesh’s house a little way up… from there take the flight of stairs on the right it will take you straight to the market… by the way in which department are you?” the man directed me and asked me in the same breath. PWD I replied and as I headed toward the back door he was saying “XEN sahib ne bheja hoga… jao jaldi jao market band honeko hai… unko meri salam kehna… aur ek baat aate waqt maajeestret office ke side se utar jana whoh jyada nazdeek parega.” “The Executive Engineer must have sent you on some errand… go be quick, the shops are about to close… give my regards to the XEN… and one more thing, while returning take the way down beside the magistrates office, its much shorter.” I grinned back at him and left his house.

A bored looking young man, probably in mid twenties and presumably Rajesh, was standing beside the house the man below had pointed at. He kept a steady gaze at me as I panted up to the market. Ten or fifteen minutes later I was at the lower Bazaar drenched to the skin in perspiration. The shops were beginning to close. I wiped my face with my handkerchief and headed straight for the apparel shop which was still open. The beautiful lady at the counter had recognized me. Since we had not come prepared for a hill station destination, we had visited the shop the previous day to purchase a couple of warm track suits for the children.

“Sir, you want more track suits” she asked me in fluent English and with an anticipation coated smile. Mustering the best smile I could afford, I told her it’s my wife’s birthday and I needed her to show me some gorgeous stuff that I could gift her… on one of the shelves I spotted the dress I had seen the day before. It was a denim salwar suite and I asked her to pack it for me. “But Sir what is the size…?” I was stumped by the question… how was I to know what size… I never did any marketing for my wife's dresses… Quickly I asked her if she remembered the lady with the children who accompanied me the day before… Her face broke into a naughty grin as if saying “I knew it… it has always been the same with every man…” “Ahh… yes, yes I how can I forget, I’ll fetch the dress of the right size for her…” she said with a twinkle of her eyes.

“b..b..but wait..” I called after her… just to be sure she recognized the correct woman I asked “First tell me how tall she is?” “Sir…” she turned back with the smile still on her lips and after what seemed like a little pause… “Almost as tall as I am” she retorted with a jingle of her head… I was taken aback I thought she would sourly say “Your shoulder height Sir…” but this was something I wasn’t prepared for… I now had to size her up… It was after a long time I was watching a lady and that too with an invitation to do so.  Surprisingly she looked so similar to my better half. In fact, it was only now I noticed how naturally beautiful the woman looked with her sharp features. She must have been around twenty may be a year or two this side or that… you never know hill women look much younger than their age.  I was beginning to wonder if this is what many call the forty syndrome. Taking my…, no Tearing would be a better word…, Tearing my eyes off her, I remarked “Yes… a beautiful dress befitting a beautiful lady…”. With a soft chuckle barely audible and taking the flirting remark in her stride and thankfully on a light note, she turned around to pick out the right sized dress I wanted.

“Maam I want you to do me another favour…” I continued with the conversation as I proceed to pay for the dress… “Can you tell me where I can find a good bakery and a card shop… my daughters asked me to buy their mom a birthday cake and a card… I don’t see any shops around selling cakes…” “Sir, your wife is a very lucky woman to have such a loving husband and caring children… unfortunately you won’t find any bread or cakes now…There is a bakery down the hill but I’m not sure if you will be able to find it… cakes are normally available only at the Army Canteen and you need to order in advance…” “There’s a stationery shop in the upper market where you can find the card but you’ll have to rush” she said pointing up wards while returning the change. The smile was still pasted on her lips as I bade her goodbye.

I found the stationery shop. It looked more like a grocery shop than a stationery shop, and the lady at the apparel shop was correct, it had a stock of Archie’s Cards and some groceries too but no cakes not even those packed sliced ones one gets easily in the cities. It was getting very late and my family must have got pretty worried. To top it I had forgotten to carry my cell phone. I quickly bought a Birthday card and a “Thank you” card and sprinted back the way I had come… It was not only time I was competing with, I wanted to achieve my targets and at the same time wanted to meet the girl at the apparel shop one more time again... there was something charming and magnetic in her looks. As I panted down hill, while on the one hand a voice inside me screamed to take it easy and concentrate on what I had come for... on the other hand another said it wanted to meet the charming lady once more... and now every action seemed like an excuse to do what the heart wanted to do.

I felt good to see the lady at the apparel shop, who was about to leave her closed shop. “Did you find your card…?” she was asked me as soon as she saw me… “Yeah, thanks and I found a surprise for you too…’ I waved at her… She was awe stricken as I handed her the “Thank you” card I had signed at the bottom… “Fill in your name Lady… you helped me make my day… I’m off to the bakery now … wish me luck…” laughing we waved each other good bye as I continued to race down hill.

At the foot of the steps leading to the bakery downhill, just as I thought I would ask someone for directions, I found a man in an over coat and a muffler which covered most of his head, standing under a street light. When the man did not seem to understand or hear what I was asking, I moved on. Moments later suddenly I heard a voice behind me asking “Kya tame ho raha hai?” “What is the time?”. It was the same man who had not responded a little earlier and for a brief flash moment, I flew into a rage… I was angry not only because of is arrogant stance a little while ago, but also because the voice belonged to the same guy I had been following earlier in the evening… but there was something eerie in the air which dampened all the rage that had swelled up moments ago. A strange feel of cold and chill was beginning to overwhelm me. I tried to brush off the eerie feeling blaming my self for not wearing warm clothes because every one knows that after the sun sets it gets cold on the hills. Ignoring him kept walking down.

I had been walking for a few minutes when I thought I heard footsteps rushing towards me from behind. I barely had the time to look behind as the form shrouded in the over coat almost brushed by me as it disappeared into the darkness below. A distinct chill swept over me this time as I tried to figure out what happened or from where the smell of damp rotten vegetables had suddenly engulfed me. Up above me I could still see the dim street light but the man was gone. Flights of stairs below me was a solitary street light the last one down the path. I thought of climbing back to where I had started from, but, the dimness of the lights indicated that I had already climbed down a lot and they made me decide against it. I felt surprised how different a path around the Judiciary which I had used earlier in the day with my family, appeared so unfamiliar in the darkness. I kept still for a few moments before beginning to walk down again trying to see if I could recognize any landmarks. There were none that I could recollect.

The Steps beside the Judiciary....       The Mall....

A few minutes later I reached the street light below. In the orange halogen glow I could see a path on my right. My inner ‘geographia’ screamed at me "take it… take it...." it said.  At a distance on my right I could see the lights of the Army Hospital… the first landmark I could recognize… Since I knew that the Guest House was not too far from it, I was happy I had made it “Home”. I started following the path. There were no lights here and it was pitch dark. The sky was probably overcast too because the moon was not to be seen anywhere. A light drizzle, which at any other time would have romantic and more than welcome had just begun, but, right now it made me feel uncomfortable and cold. I kept moving on… there was little else I could do… little later, even the dim lights of the Bazaar were not visible. I did not realize when the lights of Referral Hospital which had been my guiding star had disappeared… For the first time I realized that black could come in different hues too… Above me, where ever there was an opening the dark black forms of foliage on branches of the towering trees contrasted against the lighter darkness of the sky above.

The silence of the night was interrupted with the tip tap fall of rain drops on the leaves on the trees above me. I had been walking for sometime when I thought I heard footsteps behind me. I stopped just to be sure it was not my footsteps. The tip tap sound of water drops was all I could hear. I started walking again… I heard the footsteps again, but this time I did not stop I desperately wished I could leave this path… the sooner the better. Not because, I was scared, but, I was sure some one was following me waiting for a chance to mug me. The footsteps were nearing on me and I was determined to scare the soul out of the man this time. So, I had decided that as soon as the steps would near me, I would surprise the fellow by stopping abruptly the moment he would brush by my side. Just as I was beginning to feel the fellow breathe on my neck… I halted and waited for the impact of the collision. There was none. No one was behind me… this was rather surprising, I could feel him on my back yet there was no one around. No... not exactly so, the strange smell of rotting vegetables was in the air again… up above me the tree branches began to rustle wildly as if a struggle was ensuing between two animals. “Oh no… not a hill storm now…” I muttered under my breath, but wait.... if it was a storm, where is the wind. I was beginning to feel uneasy. The hullabaloo had awakened the animals on the trees and all sorts of sounds pierced the silence of the night.

Keeping my head down, and with a control over my senses, I started following the path not knowing where it led to, but, this time with longer strides. A little while later my guiding star reappeared, this time far above me. I knew I was home. At a distance below I could see the illuminated form of the Guest House. “Namaskar Sahib, kahan chale gaye the aap… Madam pareshan ho rahi hai” “Greetings Sir, where had you been, Madam is very worried…” the care taker welcomed me as I entered the reception lobby with soggy packets tightly clutched to my chest. The clock on the wall showed it was 8 pm.

I was drenched to the skin but this time for other reasons. The children were waiting for me in the room. Also waiting on the table was a cake… “Where did you get this from… I thought you had to place an order in advance to get one in Kasauli…” I asked in amazement. My elder daughter could hold it no longer… “When you and baby had walked ahead during the trek, leaving mom and me behind… Mom placed the order at the place we had breakfast… its been here for more than two hours… a man from the shop came to deliver it…”. Seeing that I was getting unusually late my younger daughter had also broken the surprise-secret, so the gift was now an open secret. Only the card came in as a bonus. I sank into the sofa as the children monkeyed around me.

The dry change of clothes was as refreshing as the tumbler of hot coffee. The cake added to the flavors. Sleep somehow was no where around. Hours later sitting alone on the sofa with another tumbler of hot coffee and a wall painting to gaze at, and action replays of the incidents of the evening, I said to my self quietly “Its easy to get lost in the hills on a moonless night…”.

Next morning when I woke up, every inch of my body was sore. Some how, as I managed to take my place at the dining table, I thanked my self for booking an extra day at the guest house. I was certainly in no condition to drive. The sky was unusually over cast and every thing around looked cold and gloomy. My better half felt otherwise. She had to show off the new dress so we walked up to the Mall “just for lunch”. As we passed the apparel shop, the young girl came out to greet us. “Belated Happy Birthday Maam…” wishing my wife she quickly disappeared in to a nearby shop and bought my daughters a couple of chocolate bars. We thanked and bade her good bye, this time for the last time, and returned to the guest house.

A long time after my wife and I had cosied ourselves in the comfy of the sofa, and the children deeply engrossed in a football match in the remaining part of the huge room, my wife casually asked me “What’s the matter buddy? Tell me what happened last evening… Who was this Winky Pinky thingy and why was she so fida on you and the children…? Something certainly must have happened last evening… your taking so long to return is just not like you…”. “Yeah darling, something sure happened last evening…” “Koi purana chakkar hai kya (Some old crush is it?)…” she interrupted me. “What ever the 'chakkar' is I’ll put it on papers in black and white… you’ll have to trust me…” with a mild smile on my lips I closed my eyes to close the chapter.

My wife has trusted me to the true sense of the word. She never raised the topic again. It is my turn to keep my words and I’ve done it today, seven years later, and, with every one around.

Photographs are snapshots from my Camcorder and hence of low resolution.