Far from the
madding crowd
“Long drive pe chal…Long drive pe chal….soniye…” I woke up
to the frantic screams of a popular Bolly number at 1 in the morning, with the
singer pleading for a long drive, of course to his soniye. Talk of coincidence,
but soniye or not, I was actually on a long drive – far away from Delhi’s
maddening crowds. Having left NH1 behind, we were cruising along NH 22 to reach
Kasauli – a hill station nestled in the Shivaliks of Himachal Pradesh.
We had started at about 8 in the evening, and being a long
drive, well, literally, we were scheduled to reach Kasauli by 3 in the morning.
Being a full moon night, I was actually enjoying the nocturnal views outside,
not bothering to fall back to sleep, despite having spent sleepless nights for
the last few days owing to a client presentation. The trip was actually a
perfect example of mixing business with pleasure, as the foray into the hills
was under the wonderful pretext of visiting branches of the Indian Post for an
ongoing assignment. (How I wish I had chosen Ladakh-Zanskar as well!)
The nightscape outside was turning more beautiful every
moment with the gently rising hills glowing under the moonlight, with a few
twinkling lights scattered parsimoniously on their slopes. Kasauli is a
cantonment town with a heritage spanning since the 1840s – another of the
multitude of hill stations that the Brits had left behind as their legacy.
However, being April and that too on a Friday, this legacy would be drawing the
crowds by the dozen from nearby Delhi and Chandigarh, implying that 3 am on
Saturday was already too late to get decent accommodation, as we were soon to
realize.
There seemed quite a few hotels but the high number of BMWs
and Audis parked nearby amused and amazed me simultaneously. Being over
ambitious, we checked the best hotel in town to realise that they could only
offer their deluxe suite for the night at INR 20k! Next, we checked the Guns
and Roses Hotel – how I loved the name! But the same story followed. They had
no roses left, only a gun - the “Berretta” room. I stole a glimpse of
neighboring Shimla from the room’s casement, looking so lovingly bedecked with
its still-aglow city lights. Nonetheless, the Beretta was not good enough for
us as we were looking for the hospitality of a Kalashnikov! We had still underestimated
the accommodation issue thinking that the other hotels would be spreading their
red carpets for us. Well, some didn’t even bother opening their doors at 3 in
the morning! That the manager of one hotel would find his delicate Victorian
doorknob broken in the morning owing to a desperate wayfarer’s incessant
knocking is another issue, but let’s ignore such trivialities and jump to the
conclusion – we had to ride back to neighboring Dharampur for accommodation –
the writer in me was about to complain that the moniker of this nondescript
town was not even half as romantic (and Dil-chahta-hain-popular) as Kasauli,
but with drooping eyelids and a now 4 o’clock on the watch, who could complain.
We just dropped our baggage and plonked on the bed in whatever room we got –
when I rolled around, it was already 11 in the morning.
The place beyond the pines
We had to visit a number of Post offices in Kasauli and
Chail – the next day was a Sunday – a holiday – which meant that we had to wrap
up all work by Saturday itself. Kasauli is your typical hill station, albeit
much smaller than its more popular relatives, but complete with its
quintessential mall road, churches, old gabled houses et al. Not to mention the
throng of tourists as well. We conducted our field visits but remembered to
take in the share of breathtaking layered mountains, clean fresh mountain air
and the barbling of the Himalayan bulbuls.
Running behind schedule, thanks to a late start, we then
rushed in to Chail, some 60 kms away, leaving our bags behind at Kasauli,
thinking of ticking all places in Chail by that day itself and lazing in
Kasauli the next day. We passed via Solan, replete with its industries and
breweries to reach Chail by late evening. But the approach to Chail was a
natural spectacle.
Just 10 kms before Chail, the needled pines gave way to a
sea of evergreen cedar, sweeping the mountain slopes completely. The first
thing that my colleague Kamal could mention was: “Canada! – It looks like we
are in Quebec or Vancouver!”
But Chail was not Canada – it was quaint in its own way. The
moment I stepped into the bus stand and the surrounding market, I felt
transported to a typical town from a Ruskin Bond story in India. An empty bus
stand that was perhaps waiting since eternity for a bus to arrive, small shops
selling everything under the sun from chocolates to sweaters, haphazardly piled
onto the shop floor, a few tea stalls, a small playground and that’s it! And
yet a sense of peace and contentment pervaded in the freshness of the air.
We visited the post office and then decided to meet a
village Postmaster in a neighboring village. The Postmaster ran a small shop
and doubled up as the village postman. He offered us tea, but when I was a bit
hesitant, excusing that we had already had tea at the Chail Post Office, he
gave a warm smile and added philosophically, “Naseeb main jo likha hain wo
milega, aap chaho ya nahin, aisa hain zindagi - You‘ll get whatever is written
in your Fate, whether you like it or not, such is Life.” I had to accept the
tea thereafter. Later, in our discussions, when we asked him if he could manage
additional work, he replied very sincerely,” It’s good that we have work to
keep ourselves busy, isn’t it? Otherwise, how would we pass our days - We would
just ruminate restlessly on our problems, day after day, and only feel helpless
at them. Let there be more work – It will help keep us busier still” A few
moments ago, I was marveling at the simplicity of this place, but within that
garb, there was so much profundity. The thoughts were deep indeed!
With our field visits over, Kamal and me visited the famous
cricket field at Chail. Situated at 7500 ft, it is touted as the world’s
highest cricket field. Last year, I had visited another sleepy town in
Uttarakhand called Abbott Mount, that apparently had the world’s second highest
cricket field. Standing there at Chail, the ticker in me felt glad that both
No.1 and 2 were now checked! With our dose of philosophy, Himalayan flora and
checklist now satiated, we returned back to the bustle of Kasauli. But Chail
seemed to be calling us more ardently. We decided to return to Chail the next
day, to the sprawling deodar forests and as Kamal gleefully mentioned, “to the
place beyond the pines!”
There and back
again
The next day, we took our own sweet time to wake up late and
go for long walks in the hillsides. The rushing and incessant
hurry-up-we-are-late travelling that we were indulging in for the last few days
were finally dissolved in the relishingly slow breakfast and crispy morning
air. We were finally feeling on vacation in the mountains (albeit for just
another day!).
We travelled lazily toward Chail, taking the same route as
yesterday but purposefully slow and stopping frequently to take in the panorama
of the valleys and the hills. While the photographer in me was delighted at
these stops, Kamal used the same to light another cigarette (or Nicotine stick,
as he prefers to call) or if luck permitted, another can of Chilled beer.
The cedars appeared again a few kilometers ahead of Chail,
and this time, we just stopped the car and enjoyed the forests. At Chail, we
decided to go for a long walk in the pine trees. We trespassed into a protected
forest region and decided to stroll in the cedar forests that ran downhill
sluggishly. It was the perfect antonym of the tiring city life – no sign of
inhabitation, just acre after acre of pristine forest – the Tolkiens inside us
drew up images of Rivendell and Lothlorien – it felt like true elfin land.
Until we realized that we had gone so far downhill that we
were lost – the deodars were all alike that we didn’t know which direction to
go to! Luckily we heard the sound of cars and realized that the road could not
be far away. So we kept walking downhill, until we could see the road, but to
our dismay, found our trail ending at a steep cliff, from which there was no
place to go down. Kamal spotted a trail rising up from the road, but as we
tried to reach the same we found a landslide had sunk the land connecting us
with the trail, with us grounded on a cliff once again.
There was no point in going up, so we started for a
different direction and kept walking downhill until ta-da, we found a route to
the asphalt road that seemed to say, “Enough adventure, boys, time to come back
to civilization.” Kamal felt at complete peace and his face radiated joy as if
Columbus had discovered the new world at last.
However, the real surprise came when we realized that our 40
minute saunter through the fairy forests had actually take us 4 km from Chail
by road. But then, who was complaining – wasn’t this what we had envisaged –
long treks in the hills? So we began the long walk back to Chail, taking in the
sunset and the alpine trees. After 90 mins of a really long walk, we got back to
the market and relished sweet thick chai, living the typical sleepy town hilly
dream that I always have. After all, you‘ll get whatever is written in your
luck, isn’t that the case?
