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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment