by Anil John
The other co passenger who was a beautiful woman in her twenties looked at me as if she wanted to tell that she has got the whole world under her feet. Attitude at an Altitude!
She was trying hard to weave an aura of success and grandeur around her. Such a co passenger makes you think “are you of any worth to this world at all?”
Finally, I decided to keep calm and put on my headphones and cut myself off from the rest of the world for the remaining hour of flight.
Ding!
“Ladies and Gentlemen, This is your Pilot speaking, we are about to begin our final descent to Indira Gandhi International Airport, New Delhi. Currently the weather at IGI Airport is pleasant. Please remain fastened to your seat belts till further instructions. We have certainly enjoyed having you on board today. We hope to see you again soon, and thank you again for flying with us.”
I took a sigh of relief. The airplane touched the ground in a while and then started slowing down on the runway, while most of the passengers stood up impatiently, waiting on the aisle near to their seat and made a beeline, ready to push each other when the doors open.
“Premature evacuation syndrome” I chuckled and waited patiently at my seat.
It was ten in the morning by now and I was in a hired cab going to meet the travel agent in Defense Colony, New Delhi. I had my breakfast with a large refreshing caramel cappuccino at a popular coffee shop in the airport, before checking out of the terminal to recharge my energy levels.
I had bought a solo travel package to Ladakh from this reputed travel agent in New Delhi after discussing all the possible aspects of the travel.
I had my plan chalked out in minute details and my haversack well prepared. The travel agent tailor made the travel package for me including a rented self drive SUV and the camping equipments.
The easy way to get there was to fly into Leh in Ladakh, a 45-minute airborne hop from New Delhi and the other option was to hit the highway.
I had chosen the latter option, a solo self driven 1,086 kilometers road trip from New Delhi to Leh, Ladakh.
The advantage is that a road trip will help my body to acclimatize gradually to the tremendous altitude and corresponding decrease in oxygen towards the mighty Himalayas. Air travel on the other hand, which takes off from the warm plains to high altitude atmosphere in forty five minutes can leave me hotel bound and miserable with mountain sickness.
The travel agent provided a black colored SUV thoroughly checked by a certified mechanic and assured a smooth sailing through the trip on the four wheeled beast. SUVs are considered tougher, safer and more powerful to handle tough roads on mountainous terrain and are utility oriented.
Over a cup of coffee and snacks, the travel agent provided all the information, route, guide map and directions for each day and I completed all the formalities and made the payment.
The best part of my travel package was my - self drive to Leh, Ladakh and then return to New Delhi by Air. The travel agent had a booking for a family who wanted an SUV for their return road trip from Leh to New Delhi on the tenth day, so on the last day of my travel plan or a day before, I was supposed to hand over the SUV to that family at their hotel address and board my flight back to New Delhi and then back home.
Chapter 6
Like other tourists going to Leh in Ladakh on a road trip, my travel plan was not to stay and explore the cities and towns along the way. I wanted to drive as far as I could during the day and avoid driving at night by staying overnight in hotels, so that I could spend more time in villages and natural habitats close to Leh in Ladakh. I was on a mission for my son and not on a vacation.
My first destination for an overnight stay was Manali, a 554 kilometers drive which was supposedly going to keep me on the wheel for at least 10 hours.
It was 11 am, when I got started from New Delhi and my plans for lunch was to treat myself to sarso da saag, dal makhani and fresh steamy tandoori parathas with dollops of white butter and then wash it down the stomach with a glass of creamy lassi in a dhaba on my way.
Dhabas are roadside eating joints situated on highways serving local Punjabi cuisine in India.
There are a few reasons why dhabas are so popular because they are open 24/7, mostly situated in proximity to gas stations so that you can refuel your vehicle and yourself and above all, they serve fresh and authentic Punjabi food at a reasonable price.
For ambience, dhabas have a rambling highway with the roar of a twenty foot trailer grunting its way down a slope, drowning out your imagination.
The service will be prompt only if the waiter likes your smile but the food rarely disappoints.
The pre lunch 250 kilometer drive from New Delhi to Chandigarh, on the historic Grand Trunk Road also known as National Highway 1, whizzed by, like a breeze on the six lane highway.
From Punjab to the border of Himachal Pradesh, the road zips through endless mustard fields. This hypnotizing landscape of mustard fields in bright yellow and green has inspired countless love stories on Indian silver screen.
Driving one of the best SUV in its class has its own advantage. The moment I gave the gear a blow to five the road then became a ballroom, where holding on to the wheel made me feel like I was passionately swinging in rhythm with my soul.
On a popular dhaba en route, I enjoyed my delectable lunch, freshened myself and after a thirty minute break, headed on to the highway again.
Mandi was the next town on the route map, lying on the banks of the river Beas. At an elevation of 750 meters, the air felt cool and fresh. This was Shiva’s territory, with innumerable temples dedicated to the dread locked destroyer of the universe in the Hindu mythology.
On the journey ahead to Manali, the road winds along the river Beas, a beautiful sight that I could not enjoy as I had to keep my eyes peeled for speeding tourist buses and cargo trucks. I could see Manali was approaching with apple orchards appear on both sides of the road, along with hotels galore.
I reached my hotel and checked in for my overnight stay. A much needed hot shower and Tibetan noodle soup and roast lamb with mint sauce for dinner and dropped on to the bed like a log.
Day 2 – I woke up at thirty past seven in the morning to a dove flapping its wings to one of the windows of my room, I got up from the bed and opened the curtains to all my windows and what I witnessed was an exotic and magnificent view of pine trees and snow covered mountains around. I called the room service on the intercom and ordered a hot mug of coffee and a few walnut cookies.
The room service was excellent and just like the dinner last night, my hot steaming coffee and walnut cookies were at my door step on time. The room service guy wished me good morning with a warm smile and served me the coffee. I enjoyed sipping every bit of it facing the view outside the window. The view was so magical that I could not take my eyes off till I finished my coffee and reminded myself of the quest ahead.
It was ten by now and I was all set for my journey ahead. Driving past Vashist about thirty kilometers outside Manali, I had a glimpse of gleaming white peaks at a distance.
As the road ascended the landscape changes from tiny hamlets and wildflower spattered mountain slopes giving way to grasslands and snow streaked brown mountains.
I was on my way to negotiating the world’s highest motor able passes.
After a 52 kilometers drive from Manali, I halted at Rohtang Pass. At thirteen thousand feet, this icy plateau in summer was a fuss. I found a pit stop with vendors dishing out hot tea and noodles. It took almost two hours for me to negotiate this pass as this is mainly meant for military vehicles carrying their supplies, so I had to wait till the roads cleared for me to forge ahead.
Driving past Rohtang Pass followed by a thirty minute tea break, I could see the streams of water glittering down the mountains and merging with the river Bhaga. The sight of crystal clear blue water of the river helped somewhat in enduring the bumpy stretches of the road. I halted for gas at the last fuel stop in Himachal Pradesh which was called Tandi and refueled
my travel mate. I pushed myself for another 50 kilometers to reach Keylong town.
Most of the tourists preferred staying at hotels in the town of Keylong but I had opted for a stay in a village called Khardang near to Keylong.
I always wanted to stay in rural villages in India but never got a chance in all these years. All credits to my travel agent who made it possible for me. He knew the son of the village chief of Khardang village for years and a week ago, he had sent a letter to him stating my arrival.
Driving down to Keylong town, I got mixed feelings about my decision of not opting for a hotel stay in the town. After an hour of drive on the rugged terrain, I reached Keylong and asked a local resident for Khardang village.
Khardang was located across the river Bhaga that flows below the valley and was only accessible from the town. It took another 30 minutes of driving through the rugged Trans - Himalayan roads of Lahaul to reach this village.
I reached Khardang Village and drove slowly at a snail’s pace as the children of the village started running around my SUV in excitement. I saw eager and curious faces of the villagers staring at me and my vehicle.
I parked my SUV on the inner yard of the village which was probably the children playground and got out to enquire for Mr. Tenzin, the name referred by the travel agent.
The villager smiled and patted my shoulder as if he was trying to assure me that I was at the right place asking for the right person. He asked a kid standing nearby to go and fetch for Tenzin. The child happily obeyed and ran barefoot on the muddy road. I noticed that most of the villagers did not wear any slippers.
Thankfully, the villagers understood the national language and it was easy to converse barring a few instances when I had to explain it to them with my gestures.
I opened my water bottle and gulped half of it and found a few of them were still smiling at me and the rest of them staring and whispering to each other. The kids were fond of my travel mate with its heavy duty radial tyres soaked in mud and dust.
After waiting for a few minutes patiently, I saw a man coming on a bicycle with the messenger kid seated on front. He stopped, parked his bicycle and greeted me, shaking my hands with vigor and enthusiasm. I smiled back and greeted him and introduced myself.
He turned back to the village crowd and said a few lines in his native language and then the whole crowd cheered and greeted me, making me blush like a kid and then they left for their daily chores.
Tenzin suggested me to leave the car parked and locked, as the road through the village was narrow and rugged. The best way to commute in the village was on foot or on a bicycle. He assured me that my car will be safe and I do not have to worry about it all. He carried my luggage on his bicycle and requested me to follow him on the narrow muddy lanes through the village to his house where he had arranged for my stay.
Chapter 7
Walking through the village, following my host Tenzin, I noticed that it was a small agricultural village. There were a few more villages scattered around the mountain valley. A village in these regions was made up of only a dozen houses, surrounded by fields, mountains and rivers.
The houses were small and made up of stones and wood logs from the mountains.
The houses had a flat roof and many windows, being simple in structure and color. I soon discovered that this tiny village in the middle of now where, had No electricity, No tap water, No sewerage and No cell phone signal.
Tenzin led me to the two houses which were slightly bigger in structure among the other dozen houses in the village. One house belonged to his father who was the chief of the village and the other house was for the guests who used to visit their village on marriages and other festivals.
I was surprised when Tenzin revealed that the villagers, who greeted me back there, were none other than his own relatives. A joint family, who is simple, humble and live uncomplicated lives.
I was taken to the house which apart from the home of his father was considered one of the fanciest homes in the community.
It was a rectangular block of stones and had two small rooms with beds. Off course with no electricity and no attached toilet or washroom.
Tenzin explained that in their tradition and community, they consider it inauspicious to have a toilet built inside the house so the washroom and the toilet is the smaller block, a few meters away from the house.
I was taken aback for a while and reminded myself of the saying that warns you to be careful about what you wish for but my soul was happy for reasons known to God.
I smiled at my host and he smiled back while placing my luggage in the room and then he requested me to come to his father’s house where he would like to introduce me to his elderly parents and to his wife Dolma. I happily obliged my host and met his parents and wife with a respectful Namaste. It was four in the evening by now, they offered me homemade cookies and tea. They asked me to take rest for an hour in my house and then after an hour, I could join them to witness the dinner preparations.
Villagers tend to cook and eat dinner early as they prefer to sleep early and wake up early.
I went back to my room and rested for an hour and then Tenzin called me to join him to the backyard of his father’s house. All the dozen village women and children were already present there and the men were expected in an hour from now.
Tenzin and his wife Dolma had brought big wild chickens and the women in the house immediately set to work cooking.
The kitchens in the village - There were no kitchens; there were only the Great Outdoors.
The women had already collected the firewood that would be needed to cook and had also collected big buckets of water from the river to use for cooking, dishwashing and for drinking.
I offered to help them but Tenzin and his father relented that cooking food is the domain of the women and they saw me as a guest and wanted me to relax instead, when I insisted, the most I was permitted to do was to stir the pot occasionally.
While the food cooked and simmered, the men, the children and the elderly women sat on the grass around a big fire. One of the things that I absolutely loved was their sense of community. They were like one big family. They don’t just talk about it - they live it.
I was in a sense rather jealous of this close knitted community, sitting on the grass around their big fire, chatting and laughing heartily. Looking at the beautiful sunset amidst the mountains, I recalled that in my city, everyone lives in big houses behind big walls. We are all very suspicious of one another. We don’t know each other. We don’t greet one another. I hated that I live like this and my soul yearned for the simplicity of community living and of sharing.
Later, after the food had been prepared it was time to dish up. I was given generous helpings of the very delicious chicken stew. Everyone ate with their hands, but my host had specifically gathered a fork and a spoon for me. A bowl of sticky rice and chicken curry was heavenly.
I was invited again to sit around the fire with the rest of the village after having dinner. There was lots of story sharing, laughter and songs by the children.
This was truly a lifetime moment for me under the blue moon with billions of glittering stars, sitting with these amazing people. I could not understand a word they were saying in their native language but they touched me emotionally in every way possible. I learnt they have got something here in this place with ‘nothing’, they have something that I don’t have back at home.
The dinner and the whole bonfire experience were over by thirty past seven and now it was time for everyone to sleep.
Tenzin and his father accompanied me to the house where I had to stay. The humbling part was that the father had instructed the son to sleep in my house so that I could ask for any help even in the middle of the night. A few children walked in with blankets for us so that we could sleep comfortable.
Ironically, the night was not comfortable even with those extra blankets as my body was habituated to the comfort of a premium spring mattress back at my home.
I crept out of the door and made my way to the back of the house where the smaller block of stones awaited.
I had never visited a village before so I really struggled with the toilet situation.
I had no idea about the village protocol on the subject so I made a wrong guess and I used the washing area to pee.
When I exited the tiny washroom and as I began walking back to the house, I saw my host Tenzin coming towards me running around the side of the house, carrying something. The expression on his face expressed both urgency and embarrassment that he had not managed to provide me with the things I needed in time because I had got up earlier than he had expected.
He brought me a plastic bucket filled with warm water, a half a bar of flattened soap and a neatly folded strip of napkin.
The elderly father of my host had risen at some ungodly early hour and had taken a bucket and walked to the river to fill it.
His wife, the elderly mother had then prepared a fire with wood she had collected during the day and she had heated the water so that I could bath and refresh myself and yet, Tenzin was embarrassed that he hadn’t done enough, that he hadn’t been on time. I felt embarrassed and emotional at the same time. I patted his shoulders and made him feel at ease.