AFTER THE UNSAVORY INCIDENT CONCERNING THE POOR BENGALI GIRL WHO WAS SUPPORTING HER LIVE IN COMPANION WHO WAS A PAINTER AND WAS RAPED AND KILLED I DUG OUT A DRIVE IN 2003 THAT I DID WITH MY FAMILY. THIS WRITE UP I DID IN BLOGGER.COM AS Journeyman on Indiaso highways OF WHICH I ADD AN EXCERPT ILLUSTRATES THE DANGERS THAT ALWAYS EXISTED FROM WEIRDOS THOUGH FAR AND FEW IN BETWEEN. Sujay Ghosh Biash Ghosh Snigdha Ganguly Ashwani Beotra Madhumita Chakraborty Prithvi Wanderer Manisha Bhattacharya The road kept climbing steadily and I could feel the change in altitude. I started feeling the pressure, as I had been driving all day from Panipat-Kurukshetra-Yamuna Nagar-Jagadhri-Paonta Saheb-Herbertpur-Vikas Nagar-Kalsi-Barkot and climbing in these Himalayan heights with only the rays from ones headlights is altogether another ball-game. I could feel the giants crowded along this road, and in their benign glow I hoped would keep me safe from some drunken driver, and sure enough I stopped the car and took refuge at a bend seeing the wavering lights of a vehicle being driven at a great speed approaching me as only a drunk can come from the other side. I turned out to be a scooter with three men-folk clinging to one another and singing at the top of their voice some hill-song which can be only sung fuelled by a potent brew. As I had stopped my car, I strode out with a powerful torch, and sure enough there were snowy peaks benignly smiling as I drove further up towards Sayana Chatti. I soon reached a place which had some hotel-like structure, and checking the map I found it was Sayana Chatti which I had read was the staging point of treks towards Dodi-Taal, Ruinsaara Taal and of course Harkidoon. As I got out of the car, I was hailed by the inn-keeper who looked like a middle-aged city slicker, and he had a bunch of unsavoury characters hanging around who I cannot associate with Garhwal, the Dev Bhumi or abode of gods. These characters looked straight out of Bollywood potboiler which has a scene where the hero and heroine land up in a drinking den in order to get a place to sleep in. All these guys had glasses of some copper coloured drink, and had their heads lolling with a silly grin plastered over their faces. The inn-keeper tried to force a glass into my hand while one sneaky skinny runt peered outside to inform the lot that there was a woman in the car in his dialect, and I sensed all of them trying too look presentable, so we would come and live there. Without even my asking, the inn-keeper told me that he ran one of the most reputable five-star hotels in all of Garhwal, and it would cost me a packet, but because I looked like a good soul, he was ready to halve the price. I slowly backed out of the joint declining on grounds of lack of money, but heck, there was one persistent chap who was built like a wrestler and he kept on running a sales pitch and tried to peer into the car when he got the shock of his life with two snarling fanged nasties roaring at the top of their voices for having dared to come so close. That was that, and we off in the darkness to the next town as I did not feel like hanging around this town. I reached another dark bunch of shacks which I again knew was Hanuman Chatti, and I entered a tented tea-shack, where some young men were having tea. I enquired about finding some decent accomodation, and one amongst the group came with me, and led me to the side of the river along which lay a Garhwal Vikas Nigam guest-house, for which he demanded seven hundred rupees, which I felt was okay during the full-season that was pilgrimage time. But at this time there were no tourists, and I asked if there were cheaper digs, and he led me to his home which looked quite habitable. We dug out our sleeping bags and got into them in express time, and every one was in deep slumber except for me. As I tried to close my eyes, the rigours of the journey should have lit me out, but my body was in perpetual motion having driven from eight oclock in the morning till nine at night.My mind lwas in turmoil thinking about the dangers that could have overtaken us in the course of the day, but very soon, I dozed off only to awake at six a.m. to the sound of a rooster who live in the same tenement as us. The young man who was running this joint was a care-taker on behalf of his uncle, and this place was a two storied wooden structure which was quite an ugly place in the sunlight, because of this young mans disregard for cleanliness. For a bath one had to go to the river, and for ones toilet too and heck, what about the folks living down-stream. I with shepherd dogs on the pilgrims path minding the herds, and most of these dogs are mean customers in the form of Tibetan Mastiffs also known in the mountains as Gaddi dogs. To the tune of their whelps of protest, we drove of to our next Parav or Stop during the undertaking of a pilgrimage. It was another nine kms along a dirt track which was quite level and I am sure by today there is a metalled road to Janaki-Chatti which is at 2650 metres and is the road head for the six kms walk to Yamunotri. Janaki Chatti looked like a better place to live compared to the shanty town of Hanuman Chatti and safer th
Posted on: Wed, 12 Nov 2014 13:23:34 +0000