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.