I had always wanted to go on a trekking trip to the mountains; it had been a long cherished dream for me; so when Johnny informed me that he and his friends were planning to go on a trip to the Jayanti Hills at the Bhutan border, I was overjoyed and agreed readily to be the fourth member of their team.
I was a little apprehensive because of stories doing the rounds that the trip to the hills is a grueling walk through rocky mountain terrain, steep climbs, and umpteen other discouraging facts. However, I was determined to make the trip for two reasons: Firstly, to prove a point to myself that I am still in fairly good physical condition to undertake such a trip, and secondly to break free of routine monotony.
It was Mahashivratree, an auspicious day for Hindus all over the world, that they had decided to go on the trip. Although I have never been one to wear my religion on my sleeves, it was a good excuse for going on the trip to the Shiv mandir at the top of the hill.
D-day was February 23, 2009. Awakened from sleep an hour too early at 5 a.m. from the excitement . I could already hear voices outside our gate of Johnny and the others waiting for me to join them. Our journey began on a bad note when we had to give up our comfortable seats which we had taken a lot of pains to capture for another bus with no seats available, had to stand for the entire one hour journey. Reached Jayanti sooner than I had expected and after a brief halt at the nearest tea stall, we were on our way to the hills. I decided to remain fasting until I had performed the pujas, so had nothing to eat except for a cup of Complan.
The moment we reached the dry river bed, I knew this journey was going to be worth it. The sight was awesome with the rock strewn wide expanse of the waterless river all around us and a clear blue sky.
It was indeed a grueling walk on the rocky surface of the river bed. I began to feel myself tiring faster than the other guys, and kept falling behind them. However, I didn’t allow myself the luxury of asking them to stop for a breather. I kept pace with them trying hard to conceal my obvious discomfort hoping that my strength will last until we reach the spot. It was then, on the last leg of our journey to the makeshift camp and Shiv mandir put up by the trader association, that we saw the fire in the grasslands. It was an angry, growling, all-consuming fire devouring the tall, dry grasses. The sound of the crackling and exploding dryness of the grasses combined with the size of the flames was enough to make people stop in their tracks and be a spectator. It was a scary sight, and the thought that we had to walk through that narrow aisle between the two grasslands where one of them was on fire, wasn’t was a very pleasant proposition. I managed to cross the narrow trail through the grasslands without getting burnt though.
We reached the makeshift camp soon after crossing the burning grasslands, performed the pujas, and had a sumptuous meal of khichri and sabzi. Took some time off for letting our feet rest a while and did some shopping at the fair. Bought a brown-white conch for mom as a souvenir and resumed our journey towards the more difficult terrain leading to the top of the hill. The journey began to get more and more arduous what with huge boulders and rocks cropping up every now and then on our trekking route. The most amusing sight was to see enthusiastic young girls with high heels, ankles swaying wayward, threatening to break with every step, for company along the way. There was a crowd today where normally it is deserted, robbing the hills of some of its solitude.
Finally we reached the spot where we were supposed to cross a shabbily built bamboo bridge over a mountain stream. The stream wasn’t a deep one but the water current was strong enough to carry a person with it and crash him against the rocks, so nobody dared cross the stream without the help of the bamboo bridge. To our misfortune, however, the bridge had broken down under pressure from the increased human traffic today and the only path leading to the higher reaches of the hill was blocked. With no other alternatives other than waiting for the bridge to be repaired, we decided to make the most of our wait and frolicked around in the nearby oversized boulders. The clear, pristine water running through the stream was a delight and I decided to take my clothes off for a quick dip. I kept my shorts on of course. The touch of the water was cold and refreshing, lingering on my skin for the entire day afterwards. Enjoyed thoroughly, clicking away like a professional shutterbug at whatever caught my fancy. A saffron-clad sadhu perched on the rocks, immersed in reading aloud from a book did catch my fancy among other things. A beautiful black and pink dotted butterfly was another.
Even though I could have spent the rest of the day lying around in the water, decided not to for fear of catching a cold. It was cold and there was a gusty wind blowing around. Put my clothes back on after drying myself and resumed our downward journey. It would not have been in our best interests to wait for the bridge to be repaired as daylight fades fast in the hills and I had my duties to attend to back home. Thus, the four of us were on our way back, disappointed at not having been able to complete the journey, but I was more than satisfied with whatever little I had experienced of our trekking trip. It had been worth it. The cool mountain air, the walk through the rocky terrain, the angry fire, and most of all the few minutes spent in the stream. It had been well worth it.
Decided to end the trip with a bottle of beer each to relax our overstretched muscles. Found a nice deserted spot along the embankment of the river and gulped down the contents of our bottles within minutes. The cool wind blowing on my face and the beer began to make their effect felt and before I knew it, I had dozed off in the bus. Johnny and the others were travelling on the roof of the bus!! Thank God I had a seat to myself inside; dozing off on the roof isn’t a very pleasant thought!!
When I opened my eyes again, I realized we had already reached Alipurduar and there was a commotion outside involving Johnny, the other guys, and the bus conductor. Matters were settled and they decided to not pay the bus fare to teach a lesson to the bus conductor for being rude!! I had already paid mine unfortunately.
Reached home finally to relate the events of the day to mom and uncle; the pain in my flanks a constant reminder of today’s trip…..the pleasant ache of muscles put to good use!!
